Chapter 710: Little Sixth Enters the Imperial City; Marquis Zheng Sits on the Dragon Throne

"Come up and sit."

Ji Chengjue invited Zheng Fan into the carriage.

"You want me to drive for you?" Zheng Fan asked.

The last time they had been outside Yanjing, the Emperor of Yan and the Prince of Jingnan had sat inside the carriage.

And Zheng Fan had driven.

"Don't be ridiculous." Ji Chengjue laughed. "If you're willing, I won't be polite."

"Dream on."

Marquis Zheng dismounted from his Pixiu.

Inside the carriage, Ji Chengjue looked toward Ji Chenglang.

"Second Brother, get out first."

It was not a discussion.

It was an order.

Yet strangely...

Ji Chenglang found that tone of command more comfortable.

He had hated Imperial Father.

But just like the Fourth Prince, after Imperial Father died, he had become lost.

He hated that man.

But the way he had lived while that man was still there... had become habit.

"All right."

So when Zheng Fan prepared to enter the carriage...

Ji Chenglang stepped out first.

Zheng Fan moved aside to let him down.

The two men nodded to one another.

Then Zheng Fan climbed into the carriage.

Wei Zhonghe reached out to help him.

Zheng Fan refused.

There was no brazier burning inside the carriage.

It was a little cold.

Ji Chengjue sat there, watching Zheng Fan enter.

Then watching Zheng Fan sit down.

"Old Zheng. I'm a little panicked inside."

"Seriously?"

"Same feeling as the first time I became a father. After all, this is the first time in my life I've become Emperor."

"First time's strange, second time's familiar. Do it a few more times and you'll go numb."

Ji Chengjue nodded.

He sprawled back into the corner of the carriage, looking incomparably weak and helpless.

"Imperial Father is dead."

"I heard the bell."

Ji Chengjue raised one hand.

"I killed him. With a dagger. Stabbed him in the chest."

"His Majesty should've been very gratified."

"Mm. He forced me to do it. He wanted release. I gave it to him."

"That's pretty good."

"Zheng, I'm already tired. I'm sitting here in this carriage and I haven't even ascended the throne yet, but I can already imagine myself sixty years from now, exhausted until I barely look human."

"You sure you're going to live another sixty years?"

"Why can't you have one serious conversation with me? Whenever you got sentimental in the past, I was disgusted enough to vomit inside, but on the surface I always cooperated with you."

"Mm. Fine. Being Emperor... if you want to be a good Emperor, of course it'll be exhausting."

"Exactly. My head is a complete mess right now."

"Then sleep. Once we reach the palace, I'll wake you."

Ji Chengjue found that deeply reasonable.

The frail man raised his frail arm, drove his frail hand forward, and extended one frail finger toward Zheng Fan.

"Zheng. Lend me your shoulder."

"Go die. Fuck off."

"Heh-heh."

Ji Chengjue laughed.

He did not get the shoulder.

But he still closed his eyes in satisfaction and began to doze.

Outside...

Wei Zhonghe drove the carriage toward the palace gates.

Ji Chengfeng and Lu Bing had already walked over.

Wei Zhonghe, Chief Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial, was driving the carriage.

The Crown Prince accompanied it on foot outside.

In the past... whoever sat inside could only have been the Emperor of Yan.

Mm.

And now... whoever sat inside could only be the Emperor of Yan.

The stone inside Ji Chengfeng's heart finally dropped too.

His situation was different from Zheng Fan's.

Whatever happened to Zheng Fan, once he left Yanjing and returned to his Marquis residence, he could stand tall again.

Unless Great Yan truly wanted civil war, the court and the new sovereign could not push him too far.

Ji Chengfeng, however... was an imperial prince.

Whenever the throne changed hands, the fate of an imperial prince was inevitably shuffled all over again.

Old Fourth was also the kind of man who knew when to let go.

He had already done it once at the roast-duck restaurant.

So this time... he simply dropped to his knees.

"Ji Chengfeng kowtows before Your Majesty! Long live Our Emperor, long live, long live ten thousand ten thousand years!"

Technically... the enthronement had not happened yet.

Calling him "Your Majesty" and crying ten thousand years was improper.

But only one formal process remained.

The former Crown Prince was already standing beside the carriage waiting upon him.

Ji Chengfeng could not imagine any further twist capable of changing the result.

Whether Sixth Brother had inherited the throne with Imperial Father's explicit approval... or seized it through his own methods... heh.

The Dragon Throne had always been a winner-takes-all game.

But Ji Chengfeng knelt.

Shouted.

And still... no sound came from inside the carriage.

Cold sweat instantly began seeping from Ji Chengfeng's forehead.

All along, he had indeed counted as half a member of the Sixth Master's faction.

But the other half... could just as easily be counted as part of the Crown Prince's faction.

Imperial Father had ordered him to lead troops and control the palace gates.

He had occupied such a critical position.

Yet he had never sent the current victor any warning.

Had not even passed so much as a meaningful glance.

You could explain that he had been terrified too.

But expecting reward when you had contributed nothing... was obviously impossible.

An ordinary minister could protect himself and wait.

After all, no matter which member of the Ji family became Emperor, the ministers were still hired hands working for the Ji family.

An imperial prince was different.

An imperial prince was the new sovereign's brother.

Family.

When something happened among relatives and you showed not the slightest concern... that truly damaged affection.

The longer Ji Chengfeng knelt there thinking... the more frightened he became.

The more frightened he became... the more panicked he felt.

At last... the carriage curtain lifted.

Marquis Zheng leaned half his body outside.

He looked toward the Fourth Prince kneeling in front of the carriage and said:

"Get up. He's tired. Fell asleep."

Ji Chengfeng felt as though he had received an amnesty.

Instinctively, he almost answered:

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

Fortunately... he stopped himself.

Zheng Fan reached out and patted Wei Zhonghe on the shoulder.

"Drive slowly. Let him sleep a little longer."

Wei Zhonghe immediately answered:

"Yes. This slave understands."

At Ji Chengfeng's signal, the Capital Camp soldiers guarding the palace gates moved aside.

Once the order came down... those soldiers very obviously released a collective breath.

Earlier, facing the Jingnan cavalry, they had been terrified too.

Everyone ate military grain.

Everyone understood the difference.

If it truly came to fighting... their side really was not enough for the other side to cut down.

The carriage entered the palace gates.

At the same time... the Jingnan Army Marquis Zheng had brought with him also entered the imperial palace.

Especially striking were Marquis Zheng's personal guards in brocade uniforms.

They moved directly beside the carriage.

Their steps were perfectly synchronized.

Every saber hilt angled the same way.

Their boots struck the blue bricks of the imperial palace in an exact rhythm.

It was genuinely satisfying to watch.

Wei Zhonghe drove the carriage to the Hall of Mental Cultivation.

Marquis Zheng reached out.

Gently shook Ji Chengjue, who had actually fallen asleep.

"We're here."

Ji Chengjue opened his eyes.

Then shook his head helplessly.

"That expression makes you look extremely punchable."

You're about to become Emperor.

And you're acting helpless?

"I'm sleepy," Ji Chengjue explained. "Same as when you stay awake for days before a battle and then, once the greater situation is settled, sleep like the dead. Once the tension leaves you, it's very difficult to pull your spirit back up immediately. You should understand."

"Plenty of old men and old ladies act exactly like this once the great wish of their life finally comes true."

"Heh-heh. I can't. My son is still little."

"No need to be polite. You've got me."

"Tch. True enough."

Ji Chengjue rose and stepped out of the carriage.

Marquis Zheng came down behind him.

"Your Majesty, please rest briefly in the Hall of Mental Cultivation," Wei Zhonghe reported. "Next, the Chancellor and the hundred officials will enter the palace."

"Mm."

Ji Chengjue nodded and walked toward the Hall of Mental Cultivation.

After several steps, he noticed Zheng Fan had not followed.

He turned around.

Waved.

Urged him:

"Come on."

Marquis Zheng followed him inside.

As for the others...

Wei Zhonghe said to Ji Chenglang and Ji Chengfeng:

"Your Highnesses, please follow this slave. You should change clothes first."

The two imperial princes were led away.

The Hall of Mental Cultivation was, in truth, a place for smaller court meetings.

There was a Dragon Throne inside too.

It lacked the enormous grandeur of the throne in the great hall... but it was unquestionably still a Dragon Throne.

After Zheng Fan entered, he planted both hands on his hips.

"Pretty smooth."

Ji Chengjue nodded.

"Once I drove the dagger into Imperial Father's chest, everything that followed became simple."

After all... the late Emperor had arranged everything beforehand.

Ji Chengjue simply sat down on the floor.

Zheng Fan sat beside him.

"So you're going to meet the hundred officials in a little while?"

Marquis Zheng was already a Marquis.

But when it came to court ritual... he really did not understand very much.

"Mm. Second Brother will first read the edict deposing himself. Then Zhao Jiulang will read the edict establishing me as Emperor. After that, I accept the hundred officials' prostrations, and the matter is settled. The procedure is simple."

The difficult part had been everything before this.

Now that it was finished... what remained was only ceremony.

At that moment, Wei Zhonghe entered again.

Lu Bing still had matters outside to manage.

Within the inner palace...

Wei Zhonghe was the one handling arrangements.

The late Emperor's preparations had already been extraordinarily thorough.

And now Marquis Zheng's army had entered the palace too.

One could say that unless Marquis Zheng suddenly lost his mind and decided to rebel... there was no possibility of any real disturbance erupting inside the palace.

"Your Majesty."

"What is it? That fast?"

"No, no. Matters outside will still take time. The hundred officials need to prepare. The palace also needs preparation. This is not the formal enthronement ceremony, but it still cannot be too rushed. That too was the late Emperor's intention."

The formal enthronement ceremony required sacrifice to Heaven.

Then a formal announcement at the Imperial Ancestral Temple.

A whole series of major rites had to be completed.

There were also all the different promotions and investitures.

Set aside the rewards for meritorious men from the succession struggle.

Merely handling the Empress and all the other women required considerable preparation.

At minimum, the phoenix crown and ceremonial robes had to be ready.

Fortunately... there were only two women in the prince's residence.

He Sisi would unquestionably become Empress.

As for Lingxiang... that depended on the Son of Heaven.

Would she be granted the title Noble Consort or not?

The late Emperor could at most have prepared a dragon robe that fit his son.

He obviously could not have prepared a phoenix robe for his daughter-in-law.

It was not that he lacked the ability.

It was simply too beneath the dignity of a father-in-law to do such a thing.

And then there were the rewards and titles for the Empress's natal family.

There was a great deal to arrange.

Today was only the formal appearance.

The announcement to the realm:

This is Great Yan's new sovereign.

Stabilize the court.

Stabilize the people's hearts.

And afterward... there was still a state funeral to conduct.

The late Emperor's coffin could not simply be left waiting for too long.

"Your Majesty, Seventh Highness has arrived," Wei Zhonghe reported.

The Seventh Prince had always lived inside the palace.

Now he was asking to come pay respects to the brother who was about to ascend the throne.

"Let him in."

"This slave obeys."

Before long...

Little Seventh entered.

A smile covered his face.

The instant he crossed the threshold of the Hall of Mental Cultivation, he ran forward with both arms open, delighted.

"Sixth Brother! Sixth Brother..."

Little Seventh came running.

Ji Chengjue remained seated on the floor.

He watched the boy with an utterly calm expression.

For an instant...

Little Seventh almost felt the Departure Bell had been fake.

Mother Consort had said Imperial Father was dead.

The servants had all said Imperial Father was dead.

But... wasn't Imperial Father still sitting right in front of him?

The boy slowed.

Then stopped.

Under Ji Chengjue's calm gaze... he slowly knelt.

The smile disappeared from his face.

He saluted properly.

Kowtowed.

"Ji Chengsu... greets Your Majesty. Long live Our Emperor, long live, long live ten thousand ten thousand years."

Ji Chengjue still said nothing.

Ji Chengsu raised his head in confusion.

Now he saw clearly.

The Emperor... was still here.

It almost looked no different from before.

But the Emperor was no longer his own father.

He was... his half-brother.

At last, Ji Chengjue spoke:

"Pack your things. After a while, take your mother consort and move to an imperial prince's residence outside the palace."

"This son... no. This younger brother receives the decree and thanks Your Majesty."

Little Seventh was neither stupid nor slow.

Among the Ji family's brothers, from eldest to youngest, not one was simple.

So after Ji Chengsu accepted the decree and gave thanks... he rose.

And withdrew.

He understood.

The things he had said at the roast-duck restaurant had helped create the present situation.

The best thing he could do now was obediently take his mother consort and live outside the palace.

No arguments.

No trouble.

This was an elder brother now.

Not Father.

Ji Chengjue turned toward Wei Zhonghe.

"Did the late Emperor leave any decree concerning the arrangements for the people inside the palace?"

"To reply to Your Majesty, he did not."

Ji Chengjue nodded.

There were still plenty of imperial consorts living inside the palace.

But this truly matched his father's temperament.

That man had prepared practically everything for the heir who would succeed him.

As for the women who had once served him... he simply had not cared.

Ji Chengjue looked toward Zheng Fan and smiled.

"They say a man's words turn kind when death approaches. My father, at least, kept his cold-blooded nature all the way to the end."

Marquis Zheng glanced toward Wei Zhonghe.

And declined to answer.

"All right. Eunuch Wei, go manage your work."

"Your Majesty, this slave will wait directly outside. Please summon this slave whenever you require anything."

"Mm. For now, don't let outsiders in."

"Yes. This slave understands his mistake. This slave understands his mistake."

Wei Zhonghe bowed and withdrew.

He had only just begun serving the new sovereign.

Naturally, he still did not know all of this Emperor's habits.

He should not have come in personally to report Seventh Highness's arrival.

He had interrupted His Majesty and Marquis Pingxi.

Ji Chengjue wiped his face with his sleeve.

Then asked Zheng Fan:

"Do you think my face is greasy?"

"You'll bathe and change clothes later anyway. Your hair needs to be redone too, doesn't it?"

A smile tugged at Zheng Fan's mouth.

"How about we bathe together? Your armor could use a wash too. Otherwise I'll be standing there in a dragon robe looking vigorous and magnificent, while you stand beside me looking shabby as hell."

"Armor isn't supposed to look too polished. Later I'll ask Wei Zhonghe. They're probably clearing a few people out of the palace today. Drown one less in a pond, drain a little blood, and smear it over my armor. That would give me some real presence."

"You're deliberately trying to disgust me."

"You disgusted me first."

What Ji Chengjue wanted was to sit upon the Dragon Throne openly, properly, cleanly, and with unquestionable legitimacy.

What exactly would it look like if a blood-covered Marquis Pingxi stood beside him?

"I noticed your personal guards just now. Their uniforms look impressive."

"Oh?"

Marquis Zheng raised his brows.

"Now that you're well-fed and warm, lust comes next."

A few days earlier... how could Ji Chengjue possibly have cared whether Marquis Pingxi's guards looked good or not?

Now he did.

Because now... he possessed both the qualification and the means to start arranging such things for himself.

"I just think the palace guards' clothing is too plain. Your personal guards look much more imposing."

"Fine. Tomorrow I'll send you the clothing designs."

"What are those clothes called?"

"Brocade uniforms."

"That simple?"

"That simple."

"Fine. Then from now on, the palace guards can simply be called the Brocade-Clad Guard."

"..." Zheng Fan.

"What?"

"If you like it, go ahead."

"Zheng."

"Mm."

"Next, I want to do some things."

"Cut down the regional military powers?"

Ji Chengjue shook his head.

"When I was an imperial prince, that was what I kept thinking about. But now... suddenly, I don't think it's necessary. Earlier, when I rode into the palace in the carriage, half dreaming and half awake, I felt as though I had flown into the sky."

"Heh. You got carried away."

"I looked down at the imperial palace. Slowly, I looked down at Yanjing. Then more slowly still... I looked down at the whole realm. Actually, I am not trying to fulfill the last wishes of that dead old bastard. What he wanted... has nothing to do with me."

"You don't have to explain."

"But since I've sat in this position, I have to do something. In earlier years, there was a rumor throughout court and country that the reason Imperial Father kept wavering between Second Brother and me was because he could never stop weighing two roads against one another: Rest and recuperation. Or continued aggressive advance. Even I believed it. I believed Imperial Father had emptied Great Yan's reserves. I believed he was afraid that if the next generations kept fighting... if his descendants also wanted to become Emperors whose names filled the histories... then the family property already stretched this thin would finally collapse completely."

"And then?"

"And then I discovered... that saying was completely fucking right. I haven't even summoned the hundred officials yet. I haven't even ascended the throne. And already... my heart has grown wild. Zheng Fan. Do you know? Being Emperor... and being an imperial prince or a minister... feel completely different."

Marquis Zheng rolled his eyes.

He reminded him:

"Brother, asking me that question is extremely dangerous."

"Hahahahahaha!"

Ji Chengjue burst into laughter.

He reached out and slapped Zheng Fan on the shoulder.

"Come. Come, come. Follow me."

Ji Chengjue pulled Zheng Fan up.

Together, the two men walked up the steps.

They stopped before the Dragon Throne.

Ji Chengjue sat first.

The throne was very wide.

He reached out and patted the empty space beside him.

"Come. Sit down too. Feel it."

In anyone else's eyes... this would be the sovereign showing you extraordinary favor.

But if you truly dared sit... heh.

By rights, countless historical examples should have flashed through Marquis Zheng's mind at this moment.

Lü Buwei.

Huo Guang.

Zhang Juzheng.

Oboi.

Nian Gengyao.

Those men had all been domineering in their own ways.

But none of them seemed to have actually sat on the Dragon Throne.

And their endings?

Most had been miserable.

Yet Marquis Zheng hesitated for barely two breaths.

Which was to say... he almost did not hesitate at all.

He sat directly on the Dragon Throne.

Then... he reached out.

Shoved Ji Old Sixth.

"Move over first. Let me sit in the middle alone and feel it properly."

"Hahahaha. Fine."

Ji Chengjue genuinely stood up.

He moved to the side.

Zheng Fan planted his backside squarely in the center of the Dragon Throne.

First... he sat perfectly upright and solemn.

Then... he crossed one leg over the other.

Then leaned backward and reclined.

After that... he shifted again.

This time he placed both hands on his knees and adopted a melancholy expression.

Ji Chengjue stood beside him laughing.

"Come on. Tell me. How does it feel?"

Zheng Fan raised one hand.

"Stop talking."

Then...

Marquis Zheng reached into the inner layer of his armor.

He took out his large Zhonghua-brand iron cigarette case.

Pulled out one cigarette.

"Let me have a smoke. I need to feel this properly."

Afterward... he took out a tinder tube.

And handed it to Ji Chengjue standing beside him.

"You bitch."

Ji Chengjue cursed.

But he still took the tinder tube.

Opened the cap.

Blew on it.

Then brought the flame forward.

"Come, Marquis. We... will light it for you."

Marquis Zheng held the cigarette between his lips.

He leaned his neck forward slightly.

Once it caught... he drew in a deep breath.

Then... slowly exhaled smoke through his nose.

Ji Chengjue stood beside him smiling.

"How does it feel?"

Marquis Zheng held the cigarette between two fingers.

Tapped the ash away.

Nodded.

And said:

"Now I'm comfortable."

[End of Chapter 710]