Chapter 459: Premature Birth

“Chu.

“Finished packing up?”

“All done, Dad.”

“Good.

“Let’s eat.”

Old He and He Chu entered a soup-pancake shop across the street.

Normally, father and son opened their pork stall early every morning.

If business was ordinary, one of them would head home ahead of time to cook. The other would close the stall after noon, then return so they could eat together.

If business was good and kept them busy longer, they simply skipped cooking at home.

Once the work was finished sometime in the afternoon, they found a shop along the street and ate there.

Eating outside was naturally less economical than cooking for themselves.

But if business had been good enough to keep them working that long, neither father nor son minded “splurging” on a meal in someone else’s shop.

Fortunately, everyone along the street knew one another.

They saw each other every day.

And whether a place was a grand restaurant or a tiny food stall, few shops never bought pork.

Even those specializing in beef soup, mutton soup, or flatbread would eventually tire of eating their own wares and buy a little pork to satisfy a craving.

Besides, the He father and son conducted business sincerely and treated people honestly.

So when they ate outside and ordered two small bowls of soup-pancakes, the owner would usually increase the portions and bring out two large bowls instead.

The Hes did not stand on ceremony.

Next time they delivered meat they could simply add another couple of liang.

If a person wanted to live comfortably among the people of a street, they could not greedily seize every tiny advantage.

He Chu passed his father a pair of chopsticks.

Father and son began eating heartily.

Pancakes eaten.

Soup drunk.

Warmth spread through their bodies, and strength returned with it.

After leaving the shop, father and son did not go home.

There was no need to set up the stall again in the afternoon.

Normally, they only reopened around dusk.

So most afternoons were leisurely for the two of them.

And once people became idle they always needed something to occupy themselves with.

Some amusements were refined, such as writing and painting.

Some were elegant activities, such as walking birds or handling curios.

And if someone wanted something addictive there were cricket fights or dog fights.

Naturally, there were also more ordinary forms of entertainment.

For example, drinking tea in a teahouse and listening to stories.

Over the past half year, Old He and He Chu had developed the habit of visiting a teahouse in the afternoon to listen to storytellers.

They had never possessed such an interest before.

But now they were “imperial relatives,” weren’t they?

After becoming relatives of the imperial house, father and son did not dare put on airs.

But surely they needed at least a little “self-awareness.”

At the very least, they could no longer remain completely ignorant commoners who knew nothing beyond their own street.

They ought to hear what was happening outside.

Of course, imperial relatives were still imperial relatives.

But they were hardly going to the capital’s most prestigious Number One Teahouse.

Instead, they visited **Yong’an Teahouse** on the same street.

Nor did they sit in a small private room upstairs.

They sat at the little table on the first floor closest to the entrance.

Why beside the door?

First, people constantly came and went there.

Those with status and reputation generally sat upstairs or farther inside.

The people crowding near the entrance to listen for free were mostly laborers performing bitter work.

They themselves reeked of sweat and sour body odor.

So naturally, they did not care that the He father and son still carried the lingering smell of raw pork because they had come without bathing.

Second whenever the storyteller reached a cliffhanger, his apprentice would take a large bamboo winnowing basket around the room to collect tips.

The apprentice generally avoided the entrance because people constantly moved through it and might bump the basket from his hands.

So sitting there often saved the Hes the cost of a tip.

The usual seats.

The usual doorway.

One pot of old eagle tea.

One small plate of peanuts.

Everything complete.

The storyteller was warming up the crowd.

“Honored guests!

“Today, what we will tell is the story of Count Pingye entering Chu alone— and the Great Chu Princess giving herself to him!”

“Good!!!!!!!!”

“Good!!!!!!!!”

Truthfully the same story had already been told yesterday.

Actually, the storyteller at Yipin House, the capital’s finest teahouse, had begun telling it seven or eight days earlier.

But after they began, another two days had to pass before smaller teahouses heard the news.

Once they heard their own storytellers still needed to change clothes and go drink tea at the prestigious place for two days, listening carefully.

After two days of listening they needed another two days to digest the story.

You could tell the same event but you could not tell it exactly the same way.

You had to change the narrative style.

And thinking through those changes took another two days.

This was called following the wind.

Once a wind passed from mouth to mouth, naturally it became more distorted with every retelling.

In the earliest version at Yipin House, Count Pingye had broken out together with the Princess immediately after the wedding incident.

After several rounds of retelling, by the time the story reached the storyteller at Yong’an Teahouse it had already become Count Pingye fighting the Swordsmith of Chu alone for three days and three nights.

After that surrounded by one hundred thousand Chu troops he embraced the Princess and floated away into the distance.

That was the difference between audiences.

Many of the customers drinking tea at Yipin House were officials, nobles, and wealthy figures.

They possessed their own sources of information.

If a storyteller there exaggerated matters until they became absurd and supernatural, he would ruin his own reputation.

A street teahouse like Yong’an served ordinary people.

So the story needed mysterious embellishment.

Only then would the customers listen with relish.

If one truly insisted on accuracy had Count Pingye brought back a Princess?

He had!

Then what more did anyone need?

“Dad.

“This Count Pingye seems to be one of our brother-in-law’s people?”

“Shh.”

Old He lowered his voice and signaled He Chu not to announce it.

He Chu nodded.

Then nervously looked around.

He behaved like a Silver-Armored Guard conducting a secret contact inside Yanjing.

For Old He and He Chu, most information about their own son-in-law—or brother-in-law—came from this teahouse.

And because the teahouse loved telling stories about Count Pingye every few days, the He father and son also learned that years ago, Count Pingye had risen with the support of their own son-in-law.

So he was family!

By now, the tale of Count Pingye entering Chu and stealing back a Princess had spread through every street and alley of Yanjing.

Even children roughhousing at alley mouths copied it.

Some boys drew wooden swords and sabers and shouted:

“I am Count Pingye!”

Then, they seized the neighboring little girl they had long secretly liked and called:

“Your Highness the Princess!

“Come home with me and marry me!”

What followed was the little girl’s father charging out with a shoe sole raised high and chasing the boy down the street.

Meanwhile, Old He and He Chu were listening with fascination as the storyteller described Count Pingye and the Swordsmith of Chu fighting supernatural techniques in the heavens.

Suddenly a group of armored soldiers rushed over.

At their head was none other than Eunuch Zhang.

The moment Eunuch Zhang spotted Old He and He Chu at the table beside the entrance he shrieked:

“Those two!

“Take them away!”

Before father and son even understood what was happening the armored soldiers lifted them bodily and carried them off.

...

“This Zheng Fan truly knows how to create trouble.

“I thought he might rest quietly at Snow Sea Pass for a while.

“Who could have known he would suddenly run off to Chu— and even bring back one of their Princesses?

“Take a look.

“This is Wujing’s memorial.

“With this, the matter is finally settled beyond dispute.”

Zhao Jiulang accepted the memorial from Wei Zhonghe.

He read it carefully.

Truthfully all kinds of rumors had already entered the capital.

Even some local government channels had transmitted reports.

So Count Pingye entering Chu was probably true.

Bringing back a Princess was probably true as well.

But the Marquis of Jingnan behaved exactly as he always had.

No matter what happened, he remained unhurried.

It almost seemed as though he deliberately waited for the popular winds to blow through the streets first before finally sending his memorial at his own leisurely pace.

And in this memorial, the true focus was still the temporary cessation of hostilities with Chu.

The matter of the Princess appeared only as an incidental note at the end.

As a result the court had genuinely felt uncertain while wave after wave of rumors arrived.

Was the Princess truly the Princess?

Was there some hidden flaw in the whole story?

Every decision of the court had to be based on confirmed facts.

Otherwise the government would become a joke.

So the court had remained silent throughout.

Now at last definite information had arrived.

“Haa...”

“The Marquis of Jingnan’s memorial says it was the Princess of Chu herself who chose Count Pingye.

“Your Majesty— permit this old subject a moment of impropriety.

“This old subject truly wishes to laugh.

“To laugh from the bottom of my heart.”

That was what Zhao Jiulang said.

And that was exactly what he did.

He set down the memorial.

Placed one hand over his chest.

Stroked his beard with the other.

Then, with complete solemnity—

“Hahahaha.

“Hahahaha.

“Haha.

“Haha.

“Hahahaha!”

The Emperor of Yan, seated above, felt his chest tighten.

Even Wei Zhonghe, a Qi Refiner, felt as though the flow of energy inside his body had gone astray beneath the Chancellor’s peculiar laughter.

At last, the Chancellor finished.

He drew one deep breath.

Then said:

“Your Majesty, forgive this subject.

“If I did not laugh at such a delightful matter—

I would truly suffocate.”

“No matter.

“No matter.”

The Emperor of Yan sighed as well.

“The Ministry of Rites previously drafted several possible princely titles for the Princess, did they not?

“I dislike all of them now.”

“Yes.

“They are indeed no longer appropriate,” Zhao Jiulang agreed.

Earlier, everyone had assumed Count Zheng had abducted the Princess by force.

In that case titles such as “Submission to Righteousness” or “Restored Purity,” carrying obvious implications of abandoning darkness for light, would have been acceptable.

But now the Marquis of Jingnan said the young woman had voluntarily chosen to follow him into Yan.

Since the girl herself had gone that far the Yan court could hardly remain petty enough to score points against her through the title they granted.

“Order the Ministry of Rites to prepare a full set of Princess ceremonial rites.

“Order the Ministry of Revenue to allocate funds for the construction of a Princess residence.

“Send all of it to Snow Sea Pass.”

Naturally, the Princess would live inside Count Pingye Residence.

The “Princess residence construction funds” were simply an official pretext for the Emperor to award Count Pingye a sum of money.

“And Count Pingye?” Zhao Jiulang asked cautiously.

By ordinary logic, Count Pingye should also be rewarded.

But he was already a Count.

The next step would be Marquis.

He was too young.

His rise had already been far too fast.

Promoting him again would genuinely be inappropriate.

Even the original grant of Count Pingye had already exceeded normal convention.

The Marquis of Jingnan and Marquis of Zhenbei had both once been granted princely titles.

But in practical terms the highest stable noble rank in Great Yan remained Marquis.

Fortunately, the Emperor of Yan had clearly already considered the question.

“Grant Zheng Fan the office of **Grand General of Cheng State**.”

If his noble rank could not rise then raise his official title instead.

Previously, he had been Chief Commander of Snow Sea Pass.

Now he would be Grand General of Cheng State.

In practice he would still govern only the territory around Snow Sea Pass.

Because Cheng State had long since ceased to exist.

True, there was still a Prince Cheng Residence inside Ying Capital.

But those people had already settled down and were living obedient lives.

All military forces of the Three Jin were under the Marquis of Jingnan’s control.

So this so-called Grand General of Cheng State was essentially an honorary title.

Granting it changed nothing.

It simply meant that the next time Count Zheng attended a formal occasion and announced his offices the introduction would sound more impressive.

The Emperor of Yan seemed to feel that brushing the man off this casually was still somewhat inappropriate.

So he added:

“Bestow one set of imperial golden armor.

“And... wasn’t there a barbarian saber among the gifts brought by the last barbarian embassy?

“They claimed it was forged from refined iron deep within the barbarian lands.

“Bestow that as well.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Zhao Jiulang nodded.

That should be enough.

After all, bringing back a Princess genuinely delighted everyone.

From the court to the countryside, Great Yan felt incomparably pleased and refreshed.

But in the end this was not the conquest of a city or territory.

There were no concrete battlefield gains.

“Also— issue a decree to Wujing.

“Give him full authority over the marriage rites with Chu.

“Do not let the Chu people think Great Yan is some barbaric state.

“Great Yan— also understands propriety.

“Their Princess insisted upon following a young man of Great Yan home.

“But we elders cannot behave without manners.

“The proper procedures— must still be followed.

“Tell Wujing— send betrothal gifts to Chu!”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

At that moment, the Emperor of Yan seemed to remember something.

He looked toward Wei Zhonghe beside him.

“Summon the Sixth Prince.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Wei Zhonghe left the imperial study.

A short while later he returned.

He reported:

“Your Majesty.

“After the Marquis of Jingnan’s memorial arrived earlier, Sixth Highness already took a duplicate copy and returned to his residence.”

The Marquis of Jingnan had not sent a memorial specifically explaining the matter of “abducting the Princess.”

It was a military memorial concerning the war with Chu.

So it first passed through the Grand Secretariat.

Normally, after a memorial like this entered the Grand Secretariat, one copy went to the imperial study.

One went to the Eastern Palace.

Copies were also distributed to the Six Ministries.

Clearly, the copy sent to the Ministry of Revenue had inevitably landed in Ji Chengjue’s hands.

“That bastard.”

The Emperor of Yan cursed.

Who could have known at that exact moment, a eunuch came running over in frantic haste.

Wei Zhonghe happened to be standing near the imperial-study entrance.

He immediately slipped outside to ask what had happened.

Then, just as the Emperor of Yan prepared to open the next memorial—

Wei Zhonghe staggered back inside.

“Your Majesty!

“Something terrible has happened...”

...

The matter had unfolded like this.

As Count Pingye’s former “benefactor,” later “investor,” afterward “business partner,” then political ally, and now good brother the instant Ji Chengjue received the duplicate copy of the Marquis of Jingnan’s memorial forwarded through the Grand Secretariat he could not contain himself.

He immediately left the palace and rushed home!

True, for some time already, teahouses throughout the capital had been circulating tales of Count Pingye stealing back a Princess of Chu.

But nobody knew what was true.

Nobody knew how much was fact and how much embellishment.

Ji Chengjue was no exception.

He had not received any letter from Zheng Fan either.

Presumably Zheng Fan had only just returned and was too busy to write.

No.

More likely the letter had run into trouble somewhere along the route and had not reached him.

He had stolen a Princess of Chu!

How could Zheng Fan possibly fail to share the joy immediately with his best brother?

Obviously, that had to be the explanation!

Then, after Ji Chengjue obtained the Marquis of Jingnan’s memorial and saw the confirmed result he rushed home without delay.

When he arrived—

He Sisi was sitting in the courtyard eating fruit.

“Hahahahaha!

“It’s true!

“It’s true!

“That bastard Zheng Fan really did bring back a Princess!

“The Regent of Great Chu’s own younger sister!

“In other words— the Emperor of Great Chu’s own younger sister!

“No, no.

“More importantly, she herself insisted on following Zheng Fan!

“Hahahahaha!”

Ji Chengjue laughed like a child.

Then, he reached out and lightly patted He Sisi’s enormous belly.

“This works out perfectly.

“Now that bastard Zheng Fan’s children will also carry Chu imperial blood.

“Good.

“Very good.

“Just right for us to arrange a childhood betrothal.”

Perhaps the baby had become impatient the instant it heard about this childhood engagement.

Or perhaps Ji Chengjue’s few light pats triggered something.

In any case what happened next nearly frightened Ji Chengjue’s soul straight out of his body.

He Sisi’s face suddenly twisted in pain.

Then, blood began dripping beneath the hem of her skirt.

This this this was premature labor!

————

[End of Chapter 459]