Chapter 649: - In-Law, Let Me Beg a Bowl of Noodles

The Imperial Study.

The seat where the Emperor of Yan had habitually sat remained empty.

Another desk and chair had been placed below it, and the Crown Prince sat there. His father was still alive. There was no possibility the Crown Prince would sit in that first seat.

Whether presiding over a full court session or a smaller meeting such as today’s, the Crown Prince conducted affairs from this newly established second position of honor.

As both son and subject, if he did not understand even such basic restraint and observance, he would be underestimating the terrifying prestige the Emperor of Yan had accumulated over all these years.

Below the Crown Prince sat the ministers who truly had the standing to speak and settle matters.

Ji Chengjue occupied the first seat on the left, idly playing with a snuff bottle.

Another round of confrontation had just ended.

The result remained the same: neither side could truly overwhelm the other.

The appointment of Nanwang City’s new Commandery Governor had become a deadlock between the two brothers.

The Crown Prince was accustomed to influencing things quietly, like spring rain moistening the earth without sound. During his period as regent, officials from top to bottom had generally given him face, and he had returned that courtesy. Even his Sixth Brother had moved in step with him on most matters before this.

So when Old Sixth suddenly adopted an exceptionally hard line over this appointment, the Crown Prince found himself somewhat at a loss.

After all, acting as regent looked glorious on the surface, but in reality it meant walking on thin ice and trembling at every step.

Most importantly, under Great Yan’s increasingly severe fiscal situation, the importance of the younger brother sitting opposite him was only growing.

Of course the Crown Prince could use the authority of the regency to act like thunder, clipping wings, suppressing men, striking down opposition. Unless the Emperor of Yan in the Rear Garden suddenly spoke or Sixth Brother was driven to the point of “a cornered dog leaping over the wall,” there was almost no possibility of failure.

Within the rules of the game, the Crown Prince was nearly unbeatable.

This was no longer a contest between two ordinary imperial princes.

It was a prince struggling against someone already draped in the robes of sovereign authority. Unless the former adopted some extreme method, the latter would almost certainly win.

Yet for the latter, that very mantle of sovereign authority also forced restraint.

He could no longer act as he had when he was merely a prince, aiming to destroy his opponent completely.

Now he had to consider the greater situation.

If he forced Sixth Brother into a dead end and compelled his surrender, then who would take over the actual work afterward?

Especially the Ministry of Revenue.

Everyone knew the realm’s finances were currently a rotting pit.

Aside from letting Sixth Brother continue holding everything together, no one else had either the ability or the courage to take responsibility for it.

Every minister present had his own opinion.

But those opinions had little to do with factional alignment.

These men might all carry enormous weight in court, but precisely because of that, they were especially sensitive at a time like this.

If something changed, the Emperor in the Rear Garden might move against his two sons.

The consequences of that would be enormous.

So if His Majesty merely wanted to display an attitude, punishing a few ministers instead would be the simplest and most efficient solution.

Because of that, everyone could only set aside factional loyalties and personal support and try to speak from the standpoint of public duty.

Some supported the Crown Prince.

Some supported the Sixth Prince.

And so the two sides remained locked in stalemate.

Fortunately, Chief Minister Zhao Jiulang finally arrived.

The Crown Prince rose to show respect.

All the other ministers stood as well.

He was the Chief Minister, head of the officials.

This courtesy had to be given.

Ji Chengjue was the last to rise.

Once on his feet, he left his seat, saluted the Crown Prince, then saluted Zhao Jiulang.

“Gentlemen, whatever the Chief Minister decides will be my position as well. The post of Commandery Governor of Nanwang cannot remain undecided for long. The sooner it is settled, the sooner hearts there can be stabilized.”

Whether it was a mule or a horse, hitch it to the mill first and let it pull.

Still, the remark sounded rather strange.

If that was truly his position, why had he not simply yielded earlier?

“Your Highness the Crown Prince, Chief Minister, forgive me. The Ministry of Revenue still has a mountain of headaches waiting for me. Please continue discussing the matter.”

“Sixth Brother,” the Crown Prince called. “It will not take much longer.”

Ji Chengjue ignored him completely, as though he had not heard.

He walked straight out of the Imperial Study.

The Crown Prince, still seated at the head, saw his expression darken slightly.

Zhao Jiulang took the seat deliberately left open for him at the head of the right side.

He accepted the tea Li Yinglian offered.

Took one sip.

Then slowly said:

“This Chief Minister supports Sixth Highness’s proposal.”

...

The currents of court politics were strange and treacherous.

Even men standing inside the game were often lost in fog, much less outsiders trying to glimpse shapes through the mist.

Fortunately, the storytellers and idle talkers in Yanjing’s teahouses had their own methods for explaining these things.

No matter how many bargains, compromises, and struggles preceded a decision, in the end most matters still came down to one outcome or another.

Which meant a small portion of those loose-tongued idlers would inevitably guess correctly.

Then they would be crowned “masters with inside information” and showered with attention.

As for those who guessed wrong?

No hurry.

Wait for the next opportunity.

People of Qian had always called the Yan barbarians.

They portrayed the Emperor of Yan as the very model of a tyrant who harmed the people, especially after he rode down the great aristocratic clans, describing him like some Jie or Zhou who held life and death in his hands.

Yet in reality, far fewer people in Great Yan were punished merely for speech than in the State of Qian.

The common people of Yanjing lived beneath the Son of Heaven’s feet.

Their habit of gossiping about court affairs could never be suppressed completely, and most of the time the court simply let them talk.

He Chu loved visiting teahouses after closing his stall for the day.

Sometimes he listened to storytellers.

Sometimes he listened to men discussing whatever issue was currently causing conflict in court.

He always listened with great interest.

Then he went home and repeated what he had heard to his father.

That way, Old He would not smack him with the sole of a shoe for wasting tea money on idle entertainment.

The He family might have a grandson named Ji Chuanye, but father and son still lived almost exactly as before.

Nothing fundamental had changed.

Oh.

A few months earlier, a marriage had been arranged for He Chu.

The matchmaker brought the two sides together.

Both sets of parents approved.

They were preparing to go through the formalities when the young woman suddenly fell ill and died.

On the day of her funeral, Old He sent two pigs to her family and ordered He Chu to help with the funeral arrangements.

Afterward, Old He took his son outside Yanjing to a mountain to have his fortune told.

Fortune-telling by monks in temples or priests in Daoist monasteries was too expensive.

In name, they charged only a few copper coins to interpret a fortune slip, purely symbolic.

Immediately afterward, however, they would produce a red-paper ledger and tell you that donations for lamp oil were entirely voluntary.

One glance would reveal that even the smallest donation beside any name on the page was enough to make your flesh ache for days.

Fortunately, fortune-telling stalls crowded the paths leading up the mountain.

During temple fairs, there were even more.

Old He led his son to the quietest stall in the farthest corner.

That one would be easiest to bargain with.

Only after haggling the price down to something acceptable, and forcing the fortune-teller to guarantee there would be no hidden charges, no suspenseful hints, no riddles, no nonsense about Heaven’s secrets being too dangerous to reveal unless additional silver was paid to replenish his vitality, all the usual tricks everyone understood, did they finally have He Chu’s fortune read.

The fortune-teller was so thin with hunger that little more than skin covered his bones.

He stared at He Chu for a very long time with eyes that seemed to shine from starvation.

Then he smiled.

“These next two years, you will have no good fortune.”

He Chu sat ramrod straight.

Old He immediately asked:

“Why?”

The fortune-teller replied:

“Because someone else in the family needs to use it.”

He Chu’s mouth fell open.

Divine!

Old He slapped the fortune-teller’s table.

“Bullshit!”

Then he cut another thirty percent from the price they had already bargained down to nearly nothing.

Take it or leave it.

Afterward, Old He brought his son home.

Once home, the old man did not cook.

He Chu cooked instead and brought the food over, but Old He did not eat.

He merely sat in the courtyard.

And kept sitting there until nightfall.

He Chu called to him over and over.

“Father, come eat.”

“Father, go inside and rest.”

Old He did not respond.

In the end, with no better idea, He Chu could only drape a blanket over his father and wrap himself in a quilt beside him.

They muddled through the night like that.

The next morning, Old He suddenly burst into tears.

Then he kicked He Chu, who was still snoring happily under the assumption that there would be no stall to open today.

“Grandson!”

“Here!”

Even after being demoted a generation, He Chu still answered obediently.

“You suffer for two more years, all right? Your sister is pregnant again. Your brother-in-law needs...”

He Chu hurriedly interrupted.

“Sure thing, Father!”

Old He nodded and rubbed his head.

Despite not sleeping all night, the old man still took his son out to open the stall.

He Chu remained cheerful the entire time.

He did not think suffering another two years mattered much.

At worst, he simply would not find a wife for two years.

What did that count for?

In fact, this elder brother-in-law was rather happy.

It felt as though he had genuinely helped his brother-in-law in some small way.

Today, when He Chu returned home, his father was sharpening the butcher knife.

He Chu began repeating the stories and arguments he had heard that day, all while keeping one eye on the knife in his father’s hand.

“Oh?”

After listening, Old He did not point the blade toward his son.

Instead he sounded surprised.

“Didn’t they say our son-in-law and the Crown Prince get along very well?”

That was the latest popular version of events.

After the Emperor of Yan entered the Rear Garden to recuperate, people said the Crown Prince and Sixth Highness had begun cooperating sincerely for the sake of Great Yan.

“They’re blood brothers. Arguing sometimes is normal, isn’t it?” He Chu guessed.

Old He thought that sounded reasonable and nodded.

The knife was sharpened.

Old He began chopping meat.

Later he planned to fry meatballs and send them into the princely residence.

His daughter loved them.

And the concubine from the Lu family had developed a taste for them too.

The Lu concubine was pregnant now as well.

Old He had asked around.

According to the customs of great households, a concubine’s child was supposed to call the principal wife “Mother” and his birth mother “Auntie.”

So... would a child born to the concubine also count as Old He’s grandchild?

Because of that, every time Old He sent food into the residence, he prepared a separate portion for her too.

Most importantly, his precious grandson Ji Chuanye also loved his cooking.

Fried meatballs, sausages, crispy pork belly, the little fellow devoured all of it, almost as though his maternal grandfather alone truly understood his tastes.

Last time he ate too much and failed to digest properly, leaving him uncomfortable for several days.

When Old He heard, he thought nothing of it.

Children sometimes ate themselves sick.

That was normal.

But surely a child only stuffed himself like that because he genuinely loved the food.

He Chu went to wash rice and prepare dinner.

People said commoners in many parts of Great Yan were living very difficult lives right now.

But the He family were butchers in the capital.

No one charged them protection money.

No yamen runner came by to squeeze or extort them.

As long as business kept moving, their lives would never become too difficult.

They might not eat dry rice at every meal, but there would certainly never be a shortage of oil or meat in their household.

Put differently, if even the butchers of Great Yan were having trouble surviving, then Great Yan itself was probably in serious trouble.

Chop! Chop! Chop! Chop! Chop! Chop!

Old He’s knife rose and fell.

The minced meat on the chopping block was hacked into a battlefield of corpses.

At that moment, the courtyard gate was pushed open from outside.

The gate was never shut.

They lived beneath the Son of Heaven’s feet, right beside the street.

Closing the gate would seem stingy and unfriendly.

The visitor wore a black robe beneath a cloak.

A hat rested on his head.

His face was pale.

He was noticeably thinner too.

The visitor was the owner of this courtyard.

They had met before.

They had even eaten together.

A smile appeared on Old He’s face.

He was about to tell his son to prepare tea.

Then he lowered his head and realized his hands were still chopping the meat.

Somehow, the knife he had wielded comfortably for an entire lifetime suddenly slipped from his grasp.

“Ah!”

Old He shouted in fright.

The butcher knife spun several times through the air before stabbing into the ground.

Fortunately, it had not flown toward the visitor.

Old He dropped to his knees with a thud.

Anyone could pretend not to understand what he understood perfectly well.

But not everyone could do it convincingly.

Old He plainly lacked that ability.

So he knelt.

He Chu came out.

Seeing his father kneeling, he obediently dropped down beside him too.

He had no idea what they were kneeling for, but clearly this was the thing to do.

The visitor slowly approached.

Only then did they notice a young attendant in red following behind him.

The red-robed attendant walked over, picked up the chair Old He had been using while chopping meat, and placed it behind the man.

The man sat.

“You guessed who I am?”

Old He nodded furiously without daring to raise his head.

His son-in-law was the Sixth Prince of the present dynasty.

And Old He was no longer the timid butcher who had only just entered Yanjing years earlier.

He had seen more of the world now.

Most importantly, the tea money his son spent in those teahouses had not been entirely wasted.

There was no chain of deduction here.

No careful analysis of clues.

It was simply a feeling.

A feeling that said:

Kneel.

The Emperor of Yan did not seem to care.

“Get up.”

“I wouldn’t dare!”

The young attendant in red stepped forward and reached down to help Old He up.

Old He did not want to rise.

He found kneeling much more comfortable.

But the young fellow was absurdly strong and dragged him upright by force.

Once standing, Old He somehow forgot how people were supposed to speak.

His knees began trembling again.

The red-robed attendant brought over another stool for him.

A light push.

Old He sat.

He could not decide whether his feet should stretch out or bend inward.

He did not know whether his hands should rest on his chest or somewhere else.

In the end, he simply sagged there like a paralytic, eyes blank.

The Emperor’s gaze had already shifted away from Old He.

It settled instead on He Chu, still kneeling nearby.

The red-robed attendant, originally a young eunuch in the palace, stepped forward.

He examined He Chu’s features carefully.

Then he felt his bones.

After seeing his father reduced to such a state, He Chu did not dare move and simply endured the “molestation.”

The young eunuch retreated.

He kept retreating until he stood behind the Emperor of Yan.

Then he said:

“His fortune runs deep. He bears the physiognomy of princes, generals, and ministers. Great wealth and great honor await him.”

The Emperor of Yan nodded.

Then he looked at Old He again.

Old He shuddered and opened his mouth.

“Ah... this... that... you... no...”

He gurgled for half a day without managing to produce anything coherent.

The Emperor of Yan smiled.

“What are you having for supper?”

“Fish, meat, vegetables, and rice! Dry rice!” Old He blurted immediately. “I’ll go buy it! Buy it now!”

The Emperor shook his head.

“I cannot eat those things anymore. I cannot digest them.”

Once, the Emperor of Yan and the Marquis of Zhenbei had fought over a chicken leg.

Years ago, when the Marquis of Zhenbei roasted an entire lamb leg in the Imperial Garden, the Emperor would send Wei Zhonghe ahead of time to claim a large piece of roasted meat for him.

But now, such greasy foods were beyond him.

Hearing them discussing food, He Chu raised his head.

“If your stomach’s no good, you can eat sour-fermented noodle soup. Whenever I eat too much and can’t digest, my father makes that for me to whet my appetite.”

He Chu had placed the Emperor of Yan’s condition on the same level as his own gluttonous indigestion.

The Emperor hesitated.

Then nodded.

The red-robed attendant standing beside him immediately stepped forward.

“Your Majesty, coming out today was already improper. You truly cannot eat these things as well.”

He knew the Emperor’s body.

It could no longer endure any accident or mistreatment.

Even leaving the Rear Garden today had required taking a pill to forcibly prop up his vitality and spirit.

The Emperor continued looking at Old He.

“In-law, let me beg a bowl of noodles.”

[End of Chapter 649]