They could not linger long in Longxing Prefecture. They had already delayed enough time, and if they dawdled further, the short-tempered Emperor Tian Shou might very well arrive with a forty-foot-long blade and chop them on the spot.
No need to send anyone to prepare things. Upon hearing that Meng Xizhao and the others were ready to leave, Jin Zhu immediately instructed everyone to pack their belongings and be ready to depart alongside them.
The three beautiful maids—Jin Zhu, Yinliu, and Zitang—needed no further discussion. Teng Kangning and Shi Dazhuang, the two technical staff, having completed their work, could also return. And there was the official Meng Xizhao had promised early on, Jia Renliang, Registrar Jia, who had been eagerly awaiting them. Meng Xizhao waved his hand: take everyone, take them all.
The only one who opposed was Xie Yuan.
Regarding Meng Xizhao’s request, he politely declined: “Longxing Prefecture has finally seen some improvement. As your deputy, I cannot leave my post. Moreover, I did not achieve any significant merit in being captured. I know, my lord, that you wish to have me return with you to make a contribution. I am not worthy. Perhaps I should wait until I achieve more accomplishments, so I may have more leverage in officialdom.”
Meng Xizhao thought him stubborn. Waiting to achieve true merit before returning—how long would that take? Yet, no matter what he said, Xie Yuan, being good-natured, politely refused. Finally, Meng Xizhao gave him a long look and turned to leave.
Xie Yuan thought the matter was settled, but a minute later, the Crown Prince arrived.
Xie Yuan: “………… So it wasn’t abandoned, he just went to fetch reinforcements.”
There were no outsiders present, and the situation was not urgent. The Crown Prince and Xie Yuan sat across from each other, both feeling somewhat awkward.
Though blood is thicker than water, years of distance and only communication via letters could never match the closeness of seeing each other regularly.
Strangely, Xie Yuan, who would risk his life for Cui Ye, found himself unable to find a word to speak in this face-to-face encounter.
The silence stretched, and finally, the Crown Prince spoke: “You no longer need to concern yourself with the affairs of Longxing Prefecture. Return to Yingtian. I need loyal people in the court—people entirely under my control, with no hint of betrayal.”
Xie Yuan blinked. “Doesn’t that include the head of the guards, Yu Fulan?”
The Crown Prince: “Yu Fulan is a personal guard; he cannot attend court.”
He paused, seemingly realizing his tone had been too harsh. After a moment, he continued: “Cousin, many years of patience have reached their limit. From now on, one must advance or fall into dust. I need your assistance, and I need the Xie family to rise again.”
Xie Yuan’s eyes widened.
Aside from when they were both very young, this was the first time the Crown Prince had called him “cousin.”
For a brief moment, his emotions surged like a towering wave, crashing upward with fierce force—only to be shattered into fragments across the sea’s surface by a sudden splash of cold reality.
The Crown Prince’s fate was the Xie family’s fate.
Advance, and they lived. Retreat, and they died.
But truth be told, even if they neither advanced nor retreated, the Xie family had, over the years, become little different from the dead. If not for the fact that suicide would hand the Emperor a pretext to strike at the family once more, his grandfather—the old Commandery Duke of Fangling—would have long since gone below to find his daughter and kowtow in apology.
As long as one lived, one still had pride. Xie Yuan’s heart, stagnant as a pool of dead water, had stirred again and again after leaving Yingtian Prefecture. Now, at last, that lifeless water had begun to flow.
The instant he reached his decision, a faint smile touched his lips. He already bore a resemblance to the Crown Prince, and now, the two of them seemed even more alike.
Having made up his mind, the tension between him and the Crown Prince eased. He even found the mood to joke a little. “It was Lord Meng who asked Your Highness to persuade me, wasn’t it? I suppose I’ve benefited from Lord Meng’s favor.”
The Crown Prince glanced at him. From his words, it was clear Xie Yuan had already figured something out. But since this was his cousin, the Crown Prince did not mind. Instead, he replied with complete composure, “Good that you know. Remember to thank Erlang.”
Xie Yuan: “…………”
＊
All members of the entourage were ready, and the procession set off once more. Passing through the North Gate meant they had left Longxing Prefecture. There were even more commoners gathered here than at the South Gate, because just days ago, a monument had been erected.
What Meng Xizhao had originally said was that whoever donated would have their name inscribed. What he had not known was that the craftsmen had carved his name into the very first line.
The people clamored for him to go take a look at the monument, then awkwardly, fervently thanked him, urging him to come back and visit again if he ever had the chance.
Some of these faces were familiar to Meng Xizhao, others not. Just before exiting the city gate, he could not resist poking his head out of the carriage and waving vigorously to them.
Someone with sharp eyes suddenly shouted that they had spotted the Prefect, and instantly the crowd grew excited. If not for the soldiers holding them back, they would have rushed forward to continue seeing him off.
Only after quite some time did Meng Xizhao pull his head back inside. With a sigh, he said, “The common people know how to repay kindness; their nature is fundamentally good. It is just a pity—not everyone can see that.”
“Troublemakers, rabble, drifters”—those in power had no shortage of labels for those below them.
The Crown Prince noticed the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead from the heat. He took out a pristine white handkerchief and gently wiped it away for him. Though the weather was hot, there was an ice basin in the carriage, the ice conveniently taken from the Southern Zhao palace—no one felt the least bit guilty using it. As the coolness spread once more, their bodies relaxed, and Meng Xizhao let out a contented sigh, leaning sideways against the Crown Prince’s shoulder.
The Crown Prince lowered his gaze to look at him. Seeing that bored expression, certain unmentionable thoughts began to stir again.
He leaned down, about to indulge himself and press him once more, to taste those lips again—
when Meng Xizhao suddenly spoke. “Tell me, once we return, what kind of promotion do you think His Majesty will give me?”
The Crown Prince: “…………”
The mood had been perfect—why bring up that old bastard now?
His interest vanished just like that. He paused, swallowing down his frustration before considering the question. “There are three possibilities.”
Meng Xizhao straightened, curiosity piqued. “Which three?”
The Crown Prince replied, “First: no one interferes, Father is greatly pleased, and with officials like Vice Administrator Meng commending your merits, you could be promoted to a full third-rank position. However, becoming a Minister would be difficult—your age would make it hard to command respect. A Court Attendant of the Chancellery is also third rank. Though it carries real authority, it still answers to the two chancellors. That would suit you better—and give you a few more years to gain experience.”
Meng Xizhao: “…………”
It had to be said—Cui Ye really dared to imagine things.
A third-rank court official—what did that even mean? Across the entire Qi dynasty, even counting retirees and members of the imperial clan, there were not even fifty people of third rank or above.
Top fifty in the whole country—and most of them gray-haired. For an eighteen-year-old like him to slip in among them? Even he found that hard to believe.
After a pause, Meng Xizhao asked, “And the second?”
The Crown Prince said, “Second: a subordinate third-rank position. Among such officials, many are academicians, but…” He gave a soft laugh, seemingly trying to soften the blow, though not very successfully. “To become an academician, one must pass the imperial examinations. Erlang, your scholarship is… somewhat lacking. If Father wishes to proceed by the book, he would likely appoint you as a Vice Minister instead. At present, there are no vacancies among the Six Ministries, so you may have to wait—perhaps until the end of the year, when others are promoted and positions open up.”
That matched Meng Xizhao’s own expectations. A Minister was the head of a ministry; unless the Emperor had completely lost his senses, he would not place him there. A Vice Minister, however, was different—equivalent to a deputy, less conspicuous but with similar authority. More importantly, it offered greater room for advancement. Many reached Minister and went no further, but a Vice Minister could still be transferred and rise again.
Clearly, this was what Meng Xizhao wanted. He smiled slightly. “If I can become a Vice Minister, I would like to serve in the Ministry of Personnel.”
Overseeing official appointments—it would suit him, and give him room to act.
The Crown Prince looked at him but did not immediately agree or assure him it would happen. After a moment of silence, he said only, “I hope Erlang gets what he wishes.”
Catching the implication in his words, Meng Xizhao tilted his head. “What, you think I cannot get it?”
The Crown Prince let out a smile of unclear meaning. “If you ask me, even the position of Grand Chancellor would not be beyond Erlang—but the court is not mine alone. Your father and your elder brother are both in office now, and you have rendered such great merit. They will not be willing to see you rise too quickly.”
Two fists cannot contend against four hands. Even the Emperor himself, in his early years, had been suppressed to that extent—forced to resort to underhanded means to bring about the Empress’s death. As for them, mere rising talents, how could they withstand unified opposition?
Meng Xizhao spoke up himself, “Then that would be your third possibility. They deliberately suppress me, using my age and family to bind my hands and feet. But considering my achievements, they cannot demote me no matter what. At most, they will simply refuse to promote me. In that case, I will have to settle for a fourth-rank Secretariat Drafter.”
Half a year ago, if the Emperor had offered him the post of Secretariat Drafter, Meng Xizhao would have accepted in wild delight. But now, half a year later, he found the position somewhat beneath him.
That was exactly what Cui Ye meant. Yet seeing the faint upward curve of Meng Xizhao’s lips, Cui Ye suddenly had a flash of insight. “Erlang has something in mind?”
Meng Xizhao glanced at him but did not answer directly. Instead, he brought up something else. “I am planning to establish my own residence.”
Cui Ye was momentarily stunned, then broke into a smile. “That is a good thing. Though Erlang is not yet married, with your rank, you are already qualified to set up your own household.”
Meng Xizhao cast him a quiet look. “I want to establish my own residence because if I continue living at the Vice Administrator’s estate, it will be inconvenient for others to come see me. My parents are there—if it is someone of no consequence, that is one thing, but if it is someone of higher status, they will inevitably be questioned at length. That would be troublesome.”
As Cui Ye listened, a blush spread across his cheeks. Pressing his lips together, he could not help but laugh softly. “Erlang has considered everything thoroughly. If that person learns you are establishing a residence for his sake, he will surely thank you properly.”
Meng Xizhao: “……”
Spare me. Are you thanking me, or thanking yourself?
Shaking his head, he decided to leave that matter for later. Meng Xizhao continued, “But merely establishing a residence is not enough. Your Highness, why do we not take it a step further?”
Cui Ye stared at him blankly. When he realized what Meng Xizhao was implying, the pink on his face deepened into a vivid red.
Th-this fast?!
They had not even… prepared anything yet. They had not informed their elders, had not performed the rites, had not even cleared away the obstacles…
Cui Ye felt both excited and uneasy. He could not help but ask, “Erlang, do you know what you are saying?”
Meng Xizhao grinned. “Of course I do.”
With a mischievous smile, he crooked a finger at Cui Ye, then leaned in close and whispered into his ear.
As he listened, Cui Ye’s expression went from stirred and agitated, to stiff, to completely blank. When Meng Xizhao finally straightened up, he even looked at him expectantly. “Well? Not bad, right?”
Cui Ye maintained the last trace of a polite smile. “Good. Truly excellent.”
…
＊
At the height of the summer heat, the group finally returned to Yingtian Prefecture.
The last time Cui Ye returned, their escort numbered only a few hundred as part of a marriage procession. Now, however, this was a triumphant return—no, it was more accurate to call it an army. Four thousand elite soldiers escorted the spoils of war and the party. As soon as the city gates opened, the citizens, having heard the news, surged forward in great numbers, throwing flowers and silk scarves at them. Some even tossed dried rations and pastries. Meng Xizhao clearly heard a guard cry out in pain; when he opened the carriage window to look, he saw the man clutching his forehead.
…This must be what people meant by “painful yet joyful.”
Southern Zhao had been conquered. The one happiest about it was the Emperor; next were the common people. With the war over, life would only grow better.
Zhan Buxiu rode at the very front, mounted on a tall steed. Handsome and cool, he stirred the hearts of those lining the streets—more handkerchiefs were thrown at him than at anyone else.
Fortunately, this was not Flower Street, or undergarments might have come flying as well.
Xie Yuan was not far behind. Though a civil official, he had joined later and refused special treatment, so he had ridden all the way back as well. Seeing such a refined and gentle young man among the triumphant ranks, the unmarried young ladies were nearly beside themselves with excitement. If not for the soldiers mixed among them, they might have rushed forward to ask whether he was already betrothed.
The two of them drew most of the attention, leaving Meng Xizhao full of envy.
He stared for a while, then turned his head and asked Cui Ye, “If I were down there riding a horse too, do you think there would be many girls wanting to marry me?”
At this, Cui Ye set down his teacup and smiled at him with striking sweetness. “Oh? Then how many would Erlang wish to marry?”
Meng Xizhao: “…………”
Zero. Wildflowers could never compare to the one at home.
…
By custom, when the army returned in triumph, the people were meant to witness it. Thus, those welcoming them did not wait outside the city, but instead gathered before the Donghua Gate. The market outside had been cleared entirely to make space for the procession.
From afar, as they watched the group approach, seeing the bright decorations hanging from both men and carriages, Chancellor Yan could not help but sigh.
Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west—the younger generation had finally risen.
He merely felt sentimental, but General Shang and Grand Marshal Geng behind him were already beginning to sweat.
Zhan Buxiu…
Both of them fixed their eyes on the young man riding at the front, each calculating in silence.
At the side, Qiu Suoming, Commissioner of the Three Departments, had also come to welcome the returning army. Watching the two of them, he let out a silent sneer.
See? One should not do things that weigh on the conscience. Once you do, it is easy for ghosts to come knocking.
Since you had already done it, why not finish the job completely? Now look—he has found his chance and returned.
Qiu Suoming had always looked down on military men, and by extension on Geng Wenjin, who associated with them. At the same time, he believed that this Zhan Buxiu was incapable of stirring up any real trouble.
For a military officer to make a name at court, he had to band together with others and curry favor with civil officials. Otherwise, no matter how well he fought, the Emperor would never think highly of him. If Zhan Buxiu were clever, he would set aside his grudges and start building connections. And if he were not clever—then there was even less to worry about. The Emperor alone would be enough to make his life miserable.
Qiu Suoming was so busy mocking others in his mind that he failed to notice that among those disembarking the carriages was a woman wearing a white veil. She stood within the crowd, protected by Madam Guan, with a group of burly soldiers forming a barrier in front of her. As a result, almost no one noticed her presence.
But she had spotted Qiu Suoming at a single glance—he looked almost unchanged.
Back then, Prefect Su had invited Qiu Suoming to his residence for a banquet. The young lady had been small at the time and had run off to the front courtyard, and she had followed along. She had only taken a single look then, without paying it much mind. But as she grew older, she suddenly remembered him—and from that moment on, she never forgot.
Two million taels. One million nine hundred fifty thousand taels.
If Meng Xizhao had not told her, she would never have known. The charges had been decided too quickly back then; before she could even react, she had already been sent into exile. No one had ever explained the details to them.
The white veil was Meng Xizhao’s idea. Throughout the journey, he had insisted she wear it. At the same time, she had been consuming tonics daily—ginseng, bird’s nest soup—as if they were ordinary meals. His intention had been to conceal the changes in her appearance, and now, it conveniently allowed her to hide her expression.
Madam Guan, visiting Yingtian Prefecture for the first time, was feeling somewhat nervous when, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Su Ruocun’s hands clenched tightly. She was already frail, and with that tension, the backs of her hands had turned pale.
Without drawing attention, Madam Guan immediately took her hand and slowly pried her fingers open.
Su Ruocun stood still, adjusting her breathing slightly, and only then did her body gradually relax.
Up ahead, the formal exchanges between the powerful figures on both sides had already begun.
Meng Xizhao stepped down from the carriage first, then helped the Crown Prince down after him. The mere sight of Meng Xizhao riding in the same carriage as the Crown Prince had already shocked the onlookers. But when they saw that the Crown Prince had clearly grown thinner and still carried a hint of illness, their attention shifted entirely to him.
So he really had been sick—not pretending?
Chancellor Yan took the lead in offering greetings to the Crown Prince, and the others hurried to follow. Meng Xizhao glanced several times into the crowd but found neither his father nor his elder brother. Finally, during a brief pause, he asked, “Chancellor Yan, where is my father?”
Yan Shunying chuckled. “Vice Administrator Meng is busy with official duties. Together with Minister Situ and others, he is attending to matters on His Majesty’s behalf. There is no need for you to worry. Once you return home, you will see him.”
Meng Xizhao immediately smiled and thanked him, but as he bowed, he could not help but curl his lips slightly.
Busy with official duties? No matter how busy, could he not spare time to see his own son? Clearly, he had been held back by the Emperor. They had delayed and taken their time, and the Emperor had grown displeased—expressing his dissatisfaction through such petty measures.
And this was likely not his only move. There were probably more to come.
Sure enough, Chancellor Yan went on to say that His Majesty had not been feeling well these past two days and was resting, so he would not be meeting anyone today. Everyone was to return and rest for now; when the Emperor recovered, rewards would be discussed.
With that said, what else could anyone do but accept with gratitude?
Yet even as he spoke of illness, when Yan Shunying was about to leave, he mentioned nothing else—only that he would take Zhen Anluo back to the palace for strict custody.
The Emperor might be petty, but Meng Xizhao could not afford to be. He obediently handed Zhen Anluo over, along with all those particularly voracious sons and grandsons, then parted ways with the Crown Prince and the others at the Donghua Gate.
Zhan Buxiu remained behind to reorganize the troops before leading them toward White Tiger Gate, while Meng Xizhao departed with his own people.
As Yan Shunying turned back, he happened to see Meng Xizhao’s group heading away. At a glance, it seemed as though they made up nearly half of the triumphant officials.
Yan Shunying: “…………”
This boy really grew with every favorable wind.
…
As they walked, Meng Xizhao gave instructions along the way. Jia Renliang and Judicial Officer Wang were to be escorted by Yinliu and Ziting to rent a residence in the inner city. Su Ruocun and Madam Guan were to be personally accompanied by Jinzhu to one of the Meng family’s properties to settle in. That house was also in the inner city, near one of the most prosperous districts. Meng Xizhao emphasized that they must be well taken care of; Jinzhu understood immediately and went to carry it out.
Shi Dazhuang needed no arrangements—he would return home on his own. Teng Kangning was eager to pursue his pharmaceutical endeavors, so Meng Xizhao gave him funds and had him hire a carriage to head to the estate.
In the end, only Xie Yuan and Meng Xizhao remained.
Both lived in the eastern part of the inner city—one in the innermost circle, the other at the outer edge.
Since they were headed in the same direction, they walked together. Along the way, Xie Yuan said, “His Majesty is deliberately avoiding us.”
Meng Xizhao replied, “Well, we did return late. You know His Majesty’s temperament.”
Xie Yuan fell silent. Yes—he knew. Petty as the tip of a needle.
After a moment, he said, “I am worried that the longer this drags on, the more likely complications will arise. We cannot see His Majesty, but there are others who can.”
Meng Xizhao smiled. “Do not worry. He has his stratagems, and I have my ways to counter them.”
Xie Yuan looked at him suspiciously, not understanding what he meant. By then, they had reached the entrance to the lane where the Vice Administrator’s residence stood. From afar, Meng Xizhao heard a familiar voice cry out excitedly, “Second Brother!”
He instinctively looked over and took a step forward. Then he remembered that Xie Yuan was still beside him. Turning back, just as he was about to speak, Xie Yuan had already taken his leave with proper courtesy. “Lord Meng, I will take my leave first.”
Meng Xizhao let out a small “ah,” intending to invite him over for a visit, but perhaps Xie Yuan was eager to return home and see his family. So Meng Xizhao did not insist.
Meng Xizhao quickened his pace, and Meng Jiaojiao had already rushed over from the other side.
After half a year apart, she seemed to have grown taller—she used to reach only his chin, but now she was up to his lips.
She did not bother with propriety between men and women, throwing herself straight into his arms and hugging him tightly before letting go. “Second Brother, you’re finally back!”
Meng Xizhao rubbed her soft hair. “Why did you come out? Where’s Mother and the others?”
Meng Jiaojiao pouted. “Mother and Sister-in-law are waiting inside. I couldn’t sit still, so I came out to look for you. Early this morning, His Majesty summoned Father and Elder Brother away. They were supposed to come pick you up—you tell me, His Majesty, he—”
Meng Xizhao quickly cut her off. “My dear little ancestor, let’s talk about it when we get back.”
He was genuinely afraid that with her loose tongue, she might blurt out something shocking like, “What kind of person is His Majesty, being so underhanded?”
Of course, he was overthinking it. Meng Jiaojiao was not foolish. Since he told her not to speak, she obediently kept quiet. But before leaving, she glanced again in the direction that man had just gone.
Curious, she asked, “Second Brother, who was that person walking with you just now?”
Meng Xizhao replied, “Xie Yuan—the Assistant Prefect who took office with me.”
Meng Jiaojiao gave an “oh,” then asked again, “Has General Zhan come back?”
Meng Xizhao: “He has. Why are you asking about him?”
Meng Jiaojiao smiled shyly. “I’m asking for Ahui. My brother is back, but her brother is still out fighting—that hardly seems fair.”
Meng Xizhao laughed. “I see your eyes are full of your dear Sister Ahui. There’s no room left for your own Second Brother. Come on, let’s go back. A thousand days at home are always better than a single day outside. Right now, all I want is to get back and sleep properly.”
Meng Jiaojiao: “Alright! No problem. Your courtyard has been cleaned twice a day, every day, just as Mother ordered. Once you wake up, you have to tell me how you escaped from Southern Zhao—I need to tell Ahui afterward!”
Meng Xizhao: “…………”
So you forget your brother once you have your sister, huh?