The side hall of Shenlong Hall was oppressively still, the air thick with the lingering scent of medicinal herbs. Xie Jing sat by the heart, quietly warming himself. Winter had deepened, the sky overcast from dawn to dusk; in the short distance from the carriage to the palace gate, the wind had already whipped his hands raw and aching.
It was evident that the emperor’s illness was worsening; in truth, no one had expected it to happen so quickly. Although he had been declared ill for over a year, the condition had fluctuated, and since it was not a fatal or incurable disease, those across the court still harbored a sliver of hope.
Xie Jing had entered the palace to attend to the sick as per protocol, but the emperor was not very willing to see him, nor did he have the energy to do so. In essence, it was nothing more than going through the motions; just enough to leave no room for anyone to fault Prince Zhao’s Mansion.
Only today was different; the emperor had specifically summoned him and requested that he bring Lu Shuqing into the palace as well.
Having become an older brother over the past few years, Lu Shuqing considered himself a young adult and no longer clung to others or acted spoiled as he did in his early childhood. However, this was not entirely up to him; every now and then, Xie Jing would still pull him over for a brief show of affection. He was sensible enough to stay in his mother’s arms like a contented kitten while sitting there lazily without moving a muscle.
After they had warmed themselves by the fire for a while, Zhong Zhao came out from the inner hall to greet them: “The Princess Consort and Shizi have waited long. His Majesty has just woken from his nap; you may go in to pay your respects.”
The two rose, but just as they were about to step forward, they noticed a subtle shift in Zhong Zhao’s expression: “…His Majesty has summoned only Shizi to enter alone.”
Lu Shuqing looked back, and Xie Jing could only give his shoulder a gentle nudge: “Mother will wait right here.”
He watched his son disappear behind the hall doors and let his mind wander aimlessly for a few moments. A scallion-green glazed porcelain plate on the table was piled high with yam sweets, likely prepared on the emperor’s orders for Lu Shuqing. The golden-fried crispy skin was glazed in syrup and sprinkled with crushed walnut kernels, while the filling remained soft and smooth with only a moderate touch of sweetness. No one in the palace was particularly fond of sweets. With nothing else to do and the enticing aroma of fried oil lingering in the air, Xie Jing took one and began to chew.
After eating, he fished for an engraving knife and a pocket-sized piece of white jade from his pouch and began to carve with focused concentration.
At the turn of the year, Wuyi Lane had accepted a shipment of Lantian jade from He Gao, the Prefect of Yongzhou. Xie Yan had sent some to Prince Zhao’s Mansion, where it had sat locked in the storehouse for several months. Having nothing else to do, Xie Jing had selected a few high-quality pieces to practice on while he learned the craft, thinking he would carve a pair of white jade discs as a birthday gift for Lu Lingcong next year.
Lu Shuqing stepped into the rear hall. The curtains hung low with sandalwood incense drifting through the air; in the dim light of dusk, the whole scene seemed lifted straight from an ancient painting.
The emperor was reclining in his robes with a chessboard on the table before him. He looked up, saw the boy, and said, “Qing’er has come.”
Observing that the emperor’s spirit seemed quite good, not at all like someone who had just woken up; and seeing the medicinal soup sitting aside with steam still rising from it, Lu Shuqing said, “Let Grandson serve Grandfather his medicine first.”
The emperor waved his hand. “Finish this match with Grandfather first. Black or white? The choice is yours.”
Lu Shuqing did not dare to disobey and sat down opposite the emperor. He did not choose based on the state of the board; instead, he instinctively reached for the white pieces. This was because at home, his father always let him win, the rules were relaxed, and everything from retracting moves to swapping pieces or pausing mid-game for a lesson was a common occurrence.
“Did you know, Qing’er,” the emperor said unhurriedly, “that your father’s skill at chess was taught to him by Zhen when he was young?”
“Naturally, Father often mentions it to me,” Lu Shuqing replied, though he thought to himself that he had no idea. He only knew that Lu Lingcong deeply respected his former teacher, a man surnames He who had been banished years ago, and he had always assumed it must have been Lord He who taught his father how to play.
The emperor seemed to see right through his little thoughts, saying noncommittally, “Does he mention it often?”
“It is a pity that his style of play relies too heavily on nature and intuition; it is broad and sweeping, yet he is unwilling to refine it,” he continued. “Your uncle, on the other hand, requires no refinement at all; not because he is smooth and exquisite, but because he possesses no sharpness whatsoever.”
He raised his eyes and gave Lu Shuqing a smile that could be described as kindly. “Neither is the character a Son of Heaven ought to possess.”
Lu Shuqing could not fully grasp the profound meaning behind the emperor’s words, but he knew that “Son of Heaven” was a term that absolutely should not appear in a conversation between them. Yet, the words that left him even more speechless followed:
“Will it be you, Qing’er?”
What would be him? What would he be? He was merely the heir of Prince Zhao’s Mansion, a child who never worried about food or clothing and lived a carefree life. To him, his grandfather was loving, even doting, and was also generous toward his younger sister. In Lu Shuqing’s memory, he had rarely seen his grandfather lose his temper, and great displays of joy or sorrow were nonexistent; the man viewed all things with a certain detachment. But his parents did not receive such “treatment.” His father loathed conflict with his grandfather and Empress Wang, so he avoided them whenever possible. His mother, on the other hand, did not fear a direct confrontation, but for the sake of the kind treatment he and his sister received, he would often yield.
Lu Shuqing said honestly, “Grandson is dull-witted.”
“No, you are a clever child; it is Grandfather who is the mediocre man,” the emperor said calmly. “A mediocre monarch and an even more mediocre father, possessing no great civil or military achievements, who spent the better part of his life on the art of balance by extracting himself from one shift of power only to walk into the next.”
“But Qing’er, for someone like Zhen, who was mediocre, and pushed against my will onto the highest throne, it is only fair to expect Zhen to be a benevolent ruler. But demand that Zhen be a wise one; that is unfair and even cruel. The only way for Zhen to protect himself is to sit back and watch the tigers fight; when ministers contend, the Son of Heaven reaps the gain. Only by letting them struggle against one another will they be kept from turning their schemes toward Zhen.”
“Then again, a gentleman achieves everything through non-action. Does the conduct of a brilliant and sagely ruler not boil down to those two words: ‘Checks and Balances’? To know men, to employ them well, and then to understand and be able to control the flow and fluctuation of power; this is what a successful emperor does. It does not require him to possess any peerless talent of his own.”
Lu Shuqing rested his cheek on the back of his palm. His eyes were filled with the black and white stones across the board, but his heartbeat one stroke after another as thunderous as a drum. He did not dare speak.
“Qing’er, you are being raised by your parents, and for that, Grandfather is at peace. Zhen cannot even clearly remember Zhen’s own father’s face, and as for Zhen’s mother—” He let out a sigh. “Where even is Zhen’s mother?”
“Your father has always looked down upon various political tactics and maneuvers. But one day he will understand that while Zhen did many other things for himself, Zhen also taught him these things only for him. Zhen indeed does not care for him that much, but Zhen does not hate him either, nor does Zhen wish to harm him.”
Lu Shuqing remained silent for a long time. He lightly placed a piece and then raised his clear, round eyes to look at the emperor, “Grandfather, I have won.”
The emperor was taken aback, then smiled and said, “Yes, you have won.”
When Lu Shuqing walked out, Zhang Yan and Xie Jing were standing outside the door talking in low voices. He leaned forward and said, “I pay my respects to the Grand Tutor.”
Zhang Yan hurriedly returned the salute, “Your Highness is too polite; it is more than this old official deserves.”
Zhong Zhao motioned from the side: “Grand Tutor, please enter; His Majesty has words to entrust to you.”
Xie Jing took Lu Shuqing’s hand and left Shenlong Hall. Once they were in the carriage, he asked, “Are you hungry? I had Zhong Zhao pack a box of snacks, or would you rather wait a bit for dinner? It’s cold enough today that I fear it might rain; we should have hot pot tonight.”
Lu Shuqing gave a few offhand replies. Xie Jing noticed his preoccupation but didn’t ask directly, instead waited quietly. Sure enough, after a while, the boy looked up and asked with feigned casualness, “Where is my great-grandmother?”
Xie Jing replied just as casually, “The Empress Dowager has always lived at Jiming Temple. Have you forgotten? We were supposed to pay our respects this past New Year’s Day, but she has ultimately severed her ties with the mortal world and did not wish to see us.”
Lu Shuqing gave an “oh” and nodded, then asked, “Well then, will Father inherit the throne?”
Xie Jing choked slightly, unable to follow the logic of that “well then” as quickly as the boy had. But he remembered that he, too, had once asked Lu Lingcong the same thing with near naivety. Today, many years later, the answer he gave was no different from the one Lu Lingcong had given then, “Qing’er, I don’t know.”
“Grandfather told me what kind of character a Son of Heaven should have. He said that Father doesn’t have it, and I also think so.” Lu Shuqing muttered in a low voice.
Curious, Xie Jing asked, “And why is that?”
“Grandfather said that a Son of Heaven’s likes and dislikes are never known to others, or perhaps he has no likes or dislikes at all. He doesn’t need to possess extraordinary governing talent, but he must have the keen insight to recognize people, choosing the right officials to carry out his achievements for him, while simultaneously maneuvering and balancing among them so they fear and fight one another instead of coveting the throne.”
Xie Jing fell silent. This was indeed a shrewd and effective philosophy of governance, and the rmperor had shared it with Lu Shuqing. One had to realize that to Lu Lingcong, the rmperor had never; not once, spoken with such blatant suggestiveness.
This certainly couldn’t be just because Lu Shuqing was only nine years old and possessed a simple heart that would not harbor inappropriate delusions.
“But when Father dislikes someone, he ignores them to their face; if he can’t stand something, he shouts it for everyone to know. When he learns a new dish, he cooks it for half a month straight until I’m sick of it and only stops when I get angry at him. And when he’s with Mother, he can’t see or hear anything else… If he became the Son of Heaven, anyone could see through his likes and dislikes at a single glance.”
Before the boy could finish, Xie Jing burst into laughter. He ruffled Lu Shuqing’s hair, leaving his temples a messy mop, and finally pressed his own cheek against the boy’s forehead, saying, “Regardless of whether Father becomes the emperor, and no matter who sits on the throne, the fact that you are our son will never change.”
Everyone said it was going to rain, yet not a drop fell until it was time to blow out the lamps. The air was dry and biting, and the wind made the window howl.
Xie Jing fell asleep to this sound. It felt as though he had only just drifted into a light slumber when he heard the frantic sound of footsteps and rising shouts from outside. He sat up in a daze only to see the back of Lu Lingcong, clad only in his sleeping robes, racing toward the door.
He jolted awake. Listening more intently, he realized there were servants in the courtyard shouting at the top of their lungs, “There’s a fire in the east wing!”
The east wing of the main house had originally been an extra room for resting, but it had been specifically renovated and expanded after Lu Shuning was born for her and her wet nurse to reside in. After she was weaned and the wet nurse had resigned to return to her hometown, Yin Chou had stayed there to sleep with her.
Xie Jing threw back the covers, disregarding the freezing cold outside, and stumbled out right behind Lu Lingcong. Only when he saw Yin Chou sitting in the veranda while clutching Lu Shuning and wrapped in quilts, did he finally breathe a sigh of relief.
“Is anyone hurt?” He sat down by the charcoal brazier, personally wrung out a cloth to hand to Yin Chou, and then took Lu Shuning into his arms while gently patting her back to soothe her.
“No injuries, but we were truly frightened,” Yin Chou said. “Most of the candles had been extinguished by then. Since I was reading, I had moved the lamp to the low couch, which is leagues away from the window. Even the windows were shut tight without a gap; I truly don’t know how it started.”
Lu Lingcong had gone to inspect the east wing and returned now, saying, “The fire started under suspicious circumstances. I’ve already ordered people to clear out the front rooms; everyone will sleep there for tonight. Tomorrow, this must be thoroughly investigated.”
Because of the wind, the flames could have easily spread, but fortunately, the fire was discovered in time and brought under control. However, because it started in the inner courtyard where the prince, his princess consort, and the little princess resided, the commotion was particularly large. For a moment, the entire mansion was in an uproar, and everyone was still visibly shaken.
Just as Xie Jing was dismissing the servants to return to their rest, Uncle Zhou hurried in from the outer courtyard with a solemn expression: “Your Highness, a eunuch from the palace just brought a letter on behalf of Zhong Zhao. He said the matter is sudden and urgent and implores Your Highness and the Princess Consort to read it immediately.”
Lu Lingcong and Xie Jing exchanged a look. Lu Lingcong took the letter and tore it open only to see Zhong Zhao’s handwriting, “His Majesty suddenly summoned the Middle Commander of the Yulin Guard to Shenlong Hall in secret and issued an imperial decree to ‘blockade Wuyi Lane and seize the Xie’s Mansion.’ The Yulin Guards have already mustered their troops and are about to exit the Gongche Gate!”
After scanning it quickly, Xie Jing was profoundly shaken but dared not make a scene, only murmuring in a daze, “…Seize the residence?”
But what Lu Lingcong thought of was, “Emperor Father issued such a decree suddenly at this hour? Is the messenger eunuch still here?”
Uncle Zhou shook his head, “He dropped the letter and left in a frantic hurry, as if he dared not stay for a moment.”
Xie Jing’s mind raced. What could possibly be found in Wuyi Lane to justify a seizure? Xie Yi and Xie Yan were not the type to amass ill-gotten wealth; their family assets consisted of nothing more than official salaries, tenant rents, business income, and some social gifts. Although the amount was substantial, if the imperial court could have found any leverage against them, they would have settled scores long ago; why wait until today?
Furthermore, what Lu Lingcong mentioned was precisely the strangest part: the emperor had been neglecting state affairs during his illness, so why would he suddenly remember to find trouble for the Xie family? The timing, the speed, and the unexpected nature of the move suggested that the emperor had planned this long ago and was extremely confident that something extraordinary could be seized from the Xie’s Mansion…
At this thought, Xie Jing suddenly stiffened, a chill running through him. He spun and rushed out of the inner courtyard, racing along the covered corridor all the way to the front hall. There, he saw that the hehuan table by the western wall stood empty; the sword case that had concealed the Lantian jade imperial seal had vanished without a trace!
“It’s Zhong Zhao!” Xie Jing turned his face toward Lu Lingcong, who had caught up, and cried out, “Or is it His Majesty? Aside from you and me, only those two know what was inside that sword casket!”
Lu Lingcong stood frozen on the spot, murmuring, “It was Emperor Father who instructed Zhong Zhao…”
Both felt a chill running down their spines: if the Yulin Guard found that sword casket in Wuyi Lane and then saw the mountain of Lantian jade raw material piled in the Xie family’s storehouse, the consequences… would be unthinkable.
Xie Jing said hatefully, “Tonight’s fire was clearly set by them just so they could steal the sword casket amidst the chaos and frame the Xie family!”
If they had simply hidden the Heirloom Seal in the Xie’s Mansion and then ‘discovered’ it to frame them, most people would find it hard to believe. With hundreds of eunuchs, maids, and guards in Shenlong Hall, it was difficult for any official to even get close to the emperor’s desk; stealing the national seal under everyone’s watchful eyes was even more of a fantasy.
But if it were stolen from a locked sword casket within Prince Zhao’s own mansion, the situation would change entirely. The Son of Heaven favored Prince Zhao and intended the throne for him, yet the Heirloom Seal, the very symbol of that trust, was found hidden in the home of the prince’s in-laws. This could be framed as Prince Zhao harboring rebellious intent by concealing the seal elsewhere, or it could be framed as the Xie family coveting the foundation of the state and privately directing the Princess Consort to steal the seal and bring it back to Wuyi Lane.
“Did he bestow this seal upon Prince Zhao’s Mansion solely so that today’s framing would be justified and follow a logical trail?”
As Lu Lingcong finished speaking, his mind roared. Xie Jing clearly understood this move at the same time—the emperor was forcing them to choose!
If the second option were chosen, the Xie family would be left to perish alone. Should Prince Zhao act with sufficient tact and sever ties cleanly, he might yet offset this “oversight” with his past merits.
Choose the first option, and Prince Zhao’s Mansion would go down in ruin alongside the Xie family.
Or perhaps this wasn’t a choice at all; the emperor had hinted at his answer from the start. The struggle for the succession had not yet concluded, and he did not wish for one of his two sons to die just yet.
For a moment, Xie Jing could not understand why the emperor suddenly wanted to put his family to death. Was it that the emperor, aware his days were numbered and having already chosen an heir, had begun clearing away potential threats to the succession? Yet the Xie family consisted of censors and scholars; compared to the Prime Minister’s Mansion, they could hardly be said to hold actual power. If there were any “hidden danger,” it could only be that the Xie family were imperial in-laws; Lu Shuqing’s maternal kin. Should Lu Shuqing ascend one day, they would likely rise with him, becoming the next Xiao clan of Lanling or the next Wang clan of Langya…
If this was the emperor’s concern, it meant that Lu Shuqing would indeed, one day, become the sovereign.
It meant that the chosen heir was indeed, truly, Lu Lingcong.
A sudden realization struck Xie Jing, and the words the emperor had spoken to Lu Shuqing in the forbidden city today flashed through his mind. It was a moment of absolute clarity—the Xie family was being subjected to the practice of “removing the mother to preserve the son.”
Lu Lingcong instructed Uncle Zhou to immediately destroy or hide the Lantian jade raw materials that Xie Yan had gifted to the Prince’s Mansion. He turned back, only to find Xie Jing speaking with unnatural composure:
“Zifeng, change your clothes and enter the palace immediately. Go and profess your loyalty to His Majesty. Distance yourself from me; make it as loud as possibleand ensure as many people hear it as possible. Let the entire palace know that I was the one who secretly hid the Heirlom Seal at the Xie’s Mansion by intending to use the children as leverage to fight for the succession. Let them believe the Lantian jade was also brought in by my design to cover my tracks. You only need to protect the Prince’s Mansion; if necessary, cut ties with me and the Xie family completely!”
“These are trumped-up charges! How can you just shoulder the blame without putting up any fight?”
“If it were someone else framing us, a defense might offer a sliver of hope… but now the one framing us is the Son of Heaven. To whom would we appeal? To the Son of Heaven himself? What use is any amount of arguing?”
Lu Lingcong’s brow furrowed deeply as he said resolutely, “I will not let you walk into danger alone!”
Xie Jing let out a soothing sigh. “It won’t come to that. Don’t worry; the Xie family still holds the Iron Certificate of Immunity…”
The law dictating that the crimes of imperial relatives do not implicate the entire clan was an ancient tradition. He could not change the fact that the emperor was using the Heirloom Seal to frame them, but he could still struggle to determine ‘who’ would bear the weight of that frame. If he took guilt upon himself alone, the Xie kin could rely on the Iron Certificate for protection, and the Prince’s Mansion would be severed from the scandal—leaving Lu Lingcong and the children unharmed.
Xie Jing suddenly lunged forward to draw the blade Flying Light that he had instinctively hidden in his sleeve upon waking. He swung his hand and pressed the edge against Lu Lingcong’s neck; the blade’s sharpness sent a piercing chill through the night air.
Everyone in the room was too stunned for words. He stared fixedly into Lu Lingcong’s eyes, his voice trembling as he spoke low, emphasizing every word:
“Lu Zifeng, I leave our children to you. If any harm comes to them, I will become a vengeful ghost and drag you down to the eighteenth level of hell with me.”
Lu Lingcong’s gaze darkened as he looked deep into Xie Jing’s eyes. He slowly raised his hand and actually grasped the tip of Flying Light’s blade. Blood immediately spilled from his palm, dripping straight onto his cuff and onto the front of Xie Jing’s robe.
“Very well.”
Hearing this, Xie Jing let out a long breath. The tension in his muscles seemed to relax in that single instant. Flying Light slipped from his hand before hitting the floor with a sharp, metallic clang like the striking of gold and jade.
Both poeple appeared haggard and utterly exhausted; a faint, dark stubble had even begun to show on Lu Lingcong’s jaw.
Immediately, Xie Jing loosened the unfinished white jade disc from his waist. With trembling fingers, he pressed it swiftly against Lu Lingcong’s chest, hiding it within the folds of his robes.
He said in a low, hurried voice, “I intended to give this to you on your birthday, but it seems I won’t have the time now.”
Xie Jing abruptly threw his arms around Lu Lingcong’s neck before tilting his head up to kiss him directly. He kissed with great force; unlike their usual exchanges, this held no trace of lust or soft romance. Instead, it was a desperate attempt to pour a lifetime of devotion into a single touch.
Almost simultaneously, Lu Lingcong hooked his arms around Xie Jing and pulled him into a tight embrace. The blood from his right palm smeared onto Xie Jing’s plain white sleeping robes, leaving a dripping trail of crimson.
The servants remained silent with their heads bowed, leaving the two to embrace and kiss amidst the gathering storm and the howling wind.
When their lips finally parted, Xie Jing continued to cup Lu Lingcong’s face while gazing at him from inches away. He whispered:
“When you see this jade, it is as if you are seeing me.”
Without waiting for Lu Lingcong to respond, Xie Jing turned away and commanded in a chilling voice, “Prepare the carriage! Send His Highness to the palace!”
