Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios
The sound of the golden bell and jade drums resonated through the air as the emperor of a new dynasty sat before a golden throne glittering with a thousand jewels.
With regards to the creation of a new dynasty, the first in line in terms of contribution was none other than the already famous Meng Fuyao.
This person had silently infiltrated the enemy territory and toppled the throne, instigated the troops to switch sides, and miraculously preserved the military power of a hundred thousand soldiers. Considering the extent of her merit, she was indisputably number one, much more than even Jing Yan and Ming Lun who had been fighting from the very beginning. It was known that going undercover in court was much more exhausting than fighting on the battlefield.
It was a pity that this number one contributor had put on such proud and arrogant airs while mentioning that it was not easy to accomplish her feat, that she should present herself in front of the new emperor, yet she had fallen sick and hence was unable to attend court, simply scribbling the words, “The new era has arrived!”, on a piece of paper.
Zhan Beiye stared at the words for a long time. He remembered that this was meant to be an insult, yet based on his understanding of Fuyao, she would definitely not curse herself, so this line was most probably meant for him.
The poor new emperor squeezed the garlic bulb in his fist as he approved her absence; the award ceremony had to go on—the previous general of the imperial army Meng Fuyao would be the King of Fan, and for her contributions, she would be gifted the six towns around Mt. Changhan as well as Mt. Changhan itself. She would also have full autonomy over the troops stationed at the border pass.
A wave of disbelief sounded among the officials—they knew that Meng Fuyao had to be rewarded generously, but they never thought it would be this generous!
The Dahan empire no longer had any direct relatives, and originally in Tiansha only those who carried the Zhan surname were able to receive the title of King, and those of other surnames would only be able to receive the title of Lord as the highest honor. Even though Meng Fuyao’s contribution was indispensable, was the 18-year-old Meng Fuyao able to carry this heavy responsibility? In the future, there was much time to contribute, even more, this award should be kept first and given later as a promotion. If she were to be given the title of king now, what was there to reward her with if she made further contributions?
The officials all thought that the Dahan empire would no longer have kings, but they did not think that His Majesty would be so generous!
Even more generous was that this was the ironclad King of Fan, offering land was the same as offering the country; a king was the true ruler of the land with his own army and governance. It would not be easily influenced by the imperial court, and although there were many rural villages in the Changfan region, it was also a plot of Dafan’s land; His Majesty had just given someone of a different surname one-sixth of his country, wasn’t he afraid that it would come back and bite him in the future?
As for the officials who loved manipulating words, they somehow saw “King of Fan” as “King of Han”; the nation was called Dahan, and Meng Fuyao was now given the title of “King of Han”, what was this supposed to mean? This was simply not appropriate at all! His Majesty’s affection was like a burning cage, burning too strongly and harming himself. Could it be that there was a deeper meaning? It couldn’t be that… His Majesty was planning something behind the scenes?
All the officials were in disarray, but Zhan Beiye remained sullen and stone-faced at his throne, squeezing ‘Zhangsun Wuji’ the garlic bulb in his hand continuously…
‘Damn you, Zhangsun Wuji, borrowing flowers to offer Buddha, how shameless!’
He had originally planned to give the three rich provinces closest to Pandu to Fuyao. She was worthy of such a gift, and he had already planned to give Fuyao this surprise during the official award ceremony. He did not think that Zhangsun Wuji’s single letter would throw all of his plans out the window.
That person had said in the letter, in view of Fuyao’s great contribution, he beseeched His Majesty to give Fuyao the title of King of Fan to serve as a support for the rest of her life. If he was scared of the court officials opposing to such an idea, he, Zhangsun Wuji, was willing to compensate His Majesty in private by humbly announcing that he actually did not help much. And if His Majesty could remember his help, he did not have to repay him, but just add it to Fuyao’s contribution and reward her with something even better. As for the gifting of land, he had talked to Fuyao that the title of King of Fan was but an honorific, and it was not respectful to ask for good land and make things difficult for His Majesty. Thus, they would settle for Mt. Changfan, since Fuyao had also mentioned that she had some interest in the land as well.
After reading the letter, Zhan Beiye was so angry he nearly executed the soldiers present in front of him.
Obviously, he wouldn’t be petty and give Fuyao only the best reward, yet Zhangsun Wuji made it seem as if he was unwilling and only after Zhangsun Wuji’s persuasion did he gift the title of King of Fan to Fuyao.
He was the one who had planned to give Meng Fuyao a surprise, but now it had become a surprise that Zhangsun Wuji used to please her instead.
Clearly, the land of Dahan belonged to him and was up to him to give away, yet now it had become the ingredients in Zhangsun Wuji’s dish, and he had gone first and served it to Meng Fuyao, even self-righteously helping Fuyao select this and that, choosing the damned Mt. Changhan region. And even worse, he couldn’t refuse, not just because the region was the least likely to be objected by the court officials, but also because—Fuyao liked it.
He was clearly willing to give, yet it had become as if he was unwilling; he wanted to give her something good, yet now it became as if he couldn’t not give something lousy. He was the one who had thought of giving much earlier, yet now it seemed as if Zhangsun Wuji who had fought for it.
What an unfortunate and mournful turn of events, the prince of deceit had cheated the king of thieves!
And the one thing that made Zhan Beiye unable to soothe his anguish was that he had taken Mt Changfan!
What meaning did Mt. Changfan have? It was situated between the borders of Dahan and Wuji, and it was the only passageway that allowed his troops to pass through to Wuji. Now that it belonged to Fuyao, she was like a protective barrier between him and Zhangsun Wuji. In the future, if he wanted to seek revenge for this arrow of betrayal and wanted to pass through, how could he?
Meng Fuyao would definitely not let him pass through Changfan to take Wuji. If he really did such a thing, there was a high chance he would have to first face Meng Fuyao’s retaliation and anger, and given Fuyao’s strength, she would definitely cause a great deal of trouble for him. By then he would already have his hands full, so how could he touch Wuji?
Even if Meng Fuyao didn’t take action, once she was angry with him, he wouldn’t have to think of ever getting her in this lifetime!
What a vicious and sinister plan it was…
Everything had been taken by him first, everything had been precalculated by him, even the good intentions were replaced with him, and in the end, he still had to offer Changfan with both hands, clearly knowing that giving Meng Fuyao was equivalent to giving Wuji, yet he couldn’t not give.
His Royal Highness’ help was truly never freely given…
That night, Zhangsun Wuji stared at the letter broodingly till morning. Actually, he could ignore the request to give Changfan and directly give Meng Fuyao the three provinces he had intended, but he couldn’t help but feel that Zhangsun Wuji must already have hinted to Meng Fuyao his intentions, and being well versed in politics, she must have also known about the significance of Changfan. Her not refusing already meant that she had willingly acquiesced to being the barrier between the two of them and under such circumstances, if he were to reject, the consequences would be hard to predict.
Zhangsun Wuji’s one letter had given him a question of choice—Either throw away the chance to attack Wuji or throw away Fuyao!
Poor Zhan Beiye, his hair had turned white overnight.
That kind of melancholy, that kind of hesitation, that kind of foresight totally did not match Zhan Beiye’s straightforward and rash way of dealing with things; it was all but for the sake of love.
He loved her, and he didn’t want to go against her.
In the battle for affection, he had already lagged behind Zhangsun Wuji, and now that he had infuriated Meng Fuyao over the matters of Changfan, his chances were nearing zero.
The beauty of the mountains and the rivers were indeed not easy to attain.
When the sky started to brighten, Zhan Beiye finally reached out and tore the letter into pieces.
‘Forget it.’
Half of the empire of Dahan could be said to due to Meng Fuyao’s contribution, and without her, he wouldn’t be sitting so easily on the emperor’s throne. It was only fitting that he made some sacrifices for her now.
He was never an ambitious person who dreamed of taking over the world. The reason for taking over the throne was simply to better protect his mother, as well as his previous oath that “Tiansha must die”. As for Zhangsun Wuji who took such measures and actions, it was just his paranoia acting up.
Moreover, giving Meng Fuyao a land in Dahan meant that Dahan was now her home, and the two of them had become neighbors. Since they were so close, not only could he visit her often, with her presence, wouldn’t it mean that Zhangsun Wuji wouldn’t be able to spy on Dahan as well?
Zhan Beiye smiled slightly.
‘Zhangsun Wuji, don’t think that you’re invincible. As long as she’s in my home, I’m in a much more convenient position than you, and regardless of whatever it is, there’s bound to be chances in the future sooner or later!’
Since he had just taken over the throne, there were many things to settle, and Zhan Beiye wasn’t able to visit the general’s manor. Naturally, he wouldn’t forget to distribute money, and he had already settled the matters regarding building the new King of Fan’s manor in Pandu.
Meng Fuyao did not pay much attention to it, and after receiving the rewards, she had sloppily written a letter of gratitude, her column of words ugly, the quality of paper lousy, even the ink had started to smell, and the paper was dotted with Lord Yuan Bao’s paw marks. Yet, Zhan Beiye had snatched it greedily and stared at it for a long time.
On the eighteenth day of the ninth month, Meng Fuyao sent Yun Hen off. The autumn day was breezy and refreshing as the youth in green robes smiled lightly against Meng Fuyao’s tears of farewell.
She downed another glass of wine, the clear liquid reflecting the blue sky, reflecting her feelings and reluctance in parting. Yun Hen received the white porcelain wine jar engraved with plum blossoms, his fingertip lightly brushing past Meng Fuyao’s finger. Upon feeling the silky smooth touch, he hastily pulled back and flushed slightly.
Opposite him, the girl in men’s robes laughed brightly, her laughter tinkling innocently like the rays of the sun. The fingers wrapped around the wine cup seemed to also carry the scent of plum blossoms, wafting faintly with an air of elegance.
On the river ahead, someone was gently playing the pipa on a boat as osmanthus flowers fell from the row of trees along the river. The person playing the pipa sang as he strummed, and it seemed as though he had somehow managed to match the mood, his melody smooth like flowing water.
He remembered the first time they met.
Adorned with a face full of ugly makeup, her gaze was clear and resolute as she unsheathed her sword and advanced. As her sword flashed around in a flying dance, from then on, she had wildly danced into his cold and abandoned heart.
He had come carrying such hatred, wanting to kill that half-enemy Lin Xuanyuan, yet he returned with such bewilderment—her one smile was enough to make him dizzy and his eyes weak as stalks of plum blossoms appeared in his vision, intoxicating him with its brilliance.
Hence, he also fell for her. It seemed far too easy, yet against certain people, not falling for them was the true difficulty.
Up till today, he had few encounters with her—sometimes he secretly felt glad that the encounters were few; her presence was like a drug and every moment with her was brilliant and full of anticipation, and even if it was for a moment, she was always able to leave her mark. Even if they met only three times, each time was as if he had entered a field of plum blossoms, making him happy beyond comprehension. Yet, in the end, he clearly understood that perhaps he was just a passerby.
