Chapter 851: Not a Single One of Them Is a Man!

The military council ended quickly.

In truth, its purpose had simply been to further unify the army’s thinking from top to bottom.

The army was hanging alone inside enemy territory, without a rear area, without logistics, and barring some miracle, with little chance of reinforcements ever appearing.

Under circumstances like these, military morale could become exceptionally fragile.

That meant it had to be gathered, reinforced, and bound together again at regular intervals.

And what came next would involve an even longer forced march.

Perhaps several brutal battles in succession as well.

Qian might not currently be able to assemble enough troops in this region to surround Zheng Fan, but the approaches to Shangjing would certainly have been prepared to stop him long ago.

Some things no longer needed to be said aloud.

So if they did not throw more wood and oil onto the fire now, by the time real trouble arrived, even hugging the Buddha’s feet at the last moment would be too late.

Zheng Fan had inherited Prince Jingnan’s attention to minute detail in warfare.

He too liked everything checked and arranged down to the finest point.

But Zheng Fan was not Prince Jingnan.

And Zheng Fan had no wish to become Prince Jingnan.

Thus, when a commander inevitably became the totem of his army, the light each man radiated was entirely different.

There was no need to decide which was superior.

If it worked, it was good.

Everything existed for victory.

As the military council ended, the slogan quickly began spreading downward through the ranks.

“Break Shangjing! Capture the Qian Empress!”

“Break Shangjing! Capture the Qian Empress!”

Under any other commander, even if the army wanted to shout something like this, it ought to have been:

“Break Shangjing! Capture the Qian Emperor!”

But with Zheng Fan... the flavor had changed completely.

And somehow, when the soldiers shouted this version, it felt exceptionally invigorating.

Back when Zheng Fan was still a military Marquis, there had at least been the First Prince standing beside him as another military Marquis, even if the latter’s accomplishments were somewhat inflated.

But after one of the two old Princes departed, the other died, and Zheng Fan himself was enfeoffed as a Prince... then as Great Yan’s one and only military Prince of a different surname, Prince Pingxi was effectively the legal and political equivalent of Great Yan’s “Grand General,” the foremost man in the military establishment.

Direct-line troops or not.

Zhenbei Army, Jingnan Army, local commandery troops, whatever.

So long as they were rough soldiers carrying the Black Dragon Banner, they could all point at Prince Pingxi and say:

That’s our boss.

And so, across the army, a certain atmosphere began steadily catching fire.

The boss likes married women.

That was already a publicly acknowledged “secret.”

Fine.

Then they would go to Shangjing and steal the highest-ranking married woman in all Great Qian for their boss!

Mountain strongholds led by bandit chiefs were often dismissed as mobs.

But in truth, setting aside flaws in fighting strength and everything else, one thing such camps usually did possess was cohesion.

And this army’s main strength came from Chen Yang’s Sushan Camp.

The reinforcements mixed into it had also been elites personally selected by Chen Yang from other formations.

Their combat strength and organization were not in doubt.

So now, all that remained was to clench that cohesion even tighter.

Plenty of men were already imagining the day after the war, sitting around drinking with comrades or family and slapping a thigh as they bragged:

Prince Pingxi, you know him?

His woman?

I helped steal her for him!

...

Meanwhile, the Prince Pingxi who had lit that fire was currently sitting inside a bath barrel.

The Princess Consort of Prince Fu was carefully washing his body.

This time, she did not deliberately tease him or do anything suggestive.

Instead, she was very quiet.

The soul-stealing allure from earlier had disappeared from every smile and movement, replaced by a gentle, knowing softness.

Even the way she washed him was attentive and careful, giving the impression of a virtuous wife and loving mother.

Clearly, she understood perfectly well when to advance and when to retreat.

The Princess Consort of Prince Fu’s given name was Wan.

Once the bath was finished, Zheng Fan stood and spread his arms.

The Princess Consort took a dry towel and wiped him down.

The two worked together with remarkable ease.

There was not the slightest awkwardness between them.

By all logic, the two of them ought to have carried a blood feud deep as the sea.

The former Prince Fu’s head had been carried away by Zheng Fan as proof of military merit.

But just as Zheng Fan had told Hero Chen back in Lanyang City:

When so many great officials had not chosen martyrdom or fidelity unto death, what right did anyone else have to demand that a woman remember vengeance forever and guard her chastity?

Everyone wanted to live.

Everyone wanted to save his own life.

Why were those men allowed to do so calmly, while everyone looked askance when a woman did the same?

Once his body had been dried, the Princess Consort brought another set of clothes and helped Zheng Fan dress.

She had clearly prepared the clothes long ago, as if she had always expected the day when they would be needed.

A woman’s sixth sense really could be frighteningly accurate.

“You prepared everything very thoroughly,” Zheng Fan said.

The Princess Consort smiled.

“When our child said you might come, this concubine began preparing. When our child said he wanted to try dealing with you, this concubine knew you would soon be sleeping in my bed.”

“He’s still a child. Don’t say things like that in front of him. Young men care about face.”

Zheng Fan was older than Zhao Yuannian, but not by enough to belong to an older generation.

Yet when those words came out of his mouth, the woman beside him somehow did not feel they were inappropriate.

In the end, what truly mattered in a man’s life was never its length, but its depth and breadth.

Usually, people who clung obsessively to seniority and age did so because they had nothing else in their hands worth showing.

Zheng Fan lay down on the bed.

He would spend the night here.

As for doing anything... he genuinely had no such plan.

During a campaign, a comfortable bath was already rare enough.

Being able to sleep properly on a soft bed in a fragrant room was already an extravagance.

Staying here for one night was for the greater plan.

It was for the morale of the army.

It was a sacrifice of his own reputation for the sake of Great Yan.

The Princess Consort had intended to pour tea nearby.

But she had noticed already that Zheng Fan would not touch any water or food from her room, so she did not bother.

Instead, she walked to the bedside, held her hair with one hand, and gently pinched Zheng Fan’s arm with the other.

Zheng Fan opened his eyes and looked at her.

“Your Highness, you should sleep farther inside. How can this concubine climb over you?”

Zheng Fan folded both hands behind his head.

“I like it here.”

Sleeping along the edge of a bed was military instinct.

At the slightest disturbance, he could seize Wuya hanging beside the bed and roll to the floor in an instant.

Of course... the proverbial man sneaking into another household’s bed also tended to sleep near the edge.

A trace of shyness appeared on the Princess Consort’s face.

Zheng Fan thought she might climb directly over him.

Perhaps even over his head.

After all, she was wearing a skirt.

But in the end, she carefully climbed up from the foot of the bed, moved lightly around him, and lay down on the inside.

Then she turned onto her side and looked at Zheng Fan.

Zheng Fan looked back.

“Open your mouth.”

The Princess Consort opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue.

On the surface of her tongue rested a small green object resembling a lozenge.

Zheng Fan had noticed something odd while she was speaking earlier.

He reached out, took it from her tongue, and even held it beneath his nose.

A fresh peppermint scent drifted up.

“Your Highness, that is a scented lozenge.”

Any normal person, man or woman, would have bad breath upon waking.

Sleeping with one of these in her mouth meant that if her lord wanted to do something after waking, she would not breathe unpleasantly on him.

Zheng Fan tossed the thing off the bed.

Then laughed.

“This damned evil feudal society.”

“What did Your Highness say?”

“Nothing. I’m tired. Let’s sleep.”

The Princess Consort did not know martial arts.

Zheng Fan was, in any case, a Fifth Grade expert now.

And there was also a red stone sitting on the tea table.

There would be no problem with security inside the room.

As for outside... there was even less possibility of trouble.

With the occasional distant beat of hooves and shouted orders drifting through the night...

Zheng Fan fell asleep.

...

When he woke, he felt refreshed.

It was exactly morning.

That sleep had actually corrected his somewhat ruined schedule.

Of course, correcting it meant little.

So long as the army kept marching and fighting, his schedule would soon collapse again.

The Princess Consort had awakened long ago.

She was propped on one hand, simply watching Zheng Fan.

Perhaps because her skin truly was excellent, she looked unexpectedly playful in that moment.

Zheng Fan rolled his neck and sat up.

The Princess Consort rose as well and began helping him dress.

“Open the door.”

“Yes.”

The Princess Consort walked over and opened it.

Not long afterward, Liu Dahu entered carrying a basin for washing, along with a toothbrush and face towel.

Toothbrushes already existed in this era, but for the most part only officials and nobility used them.

Ordinary people were already considered particular if they brushed with willow twigs.

The Prince’s toothbrush was specially made.

So was his tooth powder.

Today, however, the wash cups and toothbrushes had been prepared in pairs.

After setting everything neatly in place, Liu Dahu bowed before leaving.

He even deliberately saluted the Princess Consort.

Zheng Fan began washing.

Just as he finished, Zheng Man entered carrying breakfast.

When away from home, Zheng Fan ate only food delivered by these three boys.

Naturally, they had already tasted it beforehand.

That did not mean their lives did not matter.

It was simply part of their duty.

If food prepared by his own people could still be poisoned, then being poisoned to death would almost be deserved.

Zheng Fan sat and began eating breakfast.

The Princess Consort sat beside him, serving him.

Outside in the courtyard...

Prince Fu Zhao Yuannian approached.

Chen Xianba’s gaze fell on him.

Zhao Yuannian smiled.

Chen Xianba hesitated briefly, then rested a hand on his saber hilt and returned the courtesy.

Nobody stopped Zhao Yuannian.

He walked inside just as his mother was serving Prince Pingxi breakfast.

“This son greets Father. This son greets Mother.”

Zhao Yuannian knelt properly and performed the morning salute practiced among Qian official households.

The Princess Consort looked toward Zheng Fan but said nothing.

Zheng Fan was tearing apart a breakfast cake and dipping it in sugar.

He asked:

“Should I invite you to eat with us?”

“It would be this child’s honor to dine with Father.”

“Heh.”

Prince Pingxi laughed.

“Outside my Fengxin City is a temple called Gourd Temple. There are two monks there, one old and one young. Both possess affinity with the Buddha.”

“In the future, this child will certainly go worship there and pray for blessings upon Father and Mother.”

“One day, the old monk suddenly went mad and kept shouting one sentence at me over and over:

‘Many sons do not mean many blessings.’”

“...” Zhao Yuannian.

Zheng Fan glanced at Zhao Yuannian, who was still kneeling there, then shook his head.

“My two Princess Consorts are both pregnant right now. I have several adopted sons beneath me as well. The two eldest are the Heir of Prince Jingnan and the current Crown Prince. Relax. No matter how the line falls, it won’t fall to you.”

“Yes, yes, yes. This son’s heart contains nothing but pure filial devotion.”

“You’re going to make me die laughing.”

Zheng Fan put the cake into his mouth and dusted off his hands.

“All right. Enough of the first act, second act, third act. What you did before, I can choose not to pursue. After all, in my eyes, you really are only a child.”

Sending Xue San to Prince Fu Residence with a message had only been an idle move.

The reaction that followed from Zhao Yuannian and Chuzhou City’s defenders had been downright ridiculous.

It was like an old teacher standing at the front of a classroom, looking down at students who thought their scheme meticulous and flawless while every thought they had remained completely visible to him.

“But the past is the past. From now on, whenever thoughts like those arise again, think carefully before you act. Either knock me down so thoroughly that I can never stand again... or keep those thoughts buried properly inside you. You only have one mother.”

Zhao Yuannian immediately said:

“Father, my late father still had several secondary consorts. They live in a nunnery now. If Father wishes, this son can bring them here for you.”

“That’s enough.”

Zheng Fan raised his voice slightly.

Zhao Yuannian immediately shuddered.

“I decided you were useless and set you down lightly. If you insist on continuing this little performance, showing me how deep your schemes are and how much cunning you possess, forcing me to conclude that you can’t be allowed to live because you may cause trouble later... then I can kill you now. That works too.”

“...” Zhao Yuannian.

The Princess Consort still said nothing.

She simply added more porridge to the Prince’s bowl.

“This chil... understands...”

“Enough. Stop calling yourself my child. Having a grown eldest son appear out of nowhere really does make me uncomfortable. I can take you with me and throw you into Yanjing. You’ll still live rich and comfortably. With nothing else to do, you can even keep His Majesty company, play chess, talk. If you don’t want to live like that, then think carefully about what you actually possess that might be worth my attention.”

Zhao Yuannian silently raised his head and looked toward his mother.

“Show some promise,” she said.

Zhao Yuannian drew a deep breath and nodded.

“Yuannian has only the identity of Prince Fu left.”

“Then use it well. In other people’s eyes, you can be my son. There’s no need to actually become my son. Pull on the tiger skin when you need it. If you truly become my son, then gather a whole crowd of grandsons beneath you, what damned use is that?”

“Yuannian understands.”

“Put your mind into doing real things. Spending every day thinking about schemes, political arts, and how deep your own city walls are may look clever. In truth, it’s stupid beyond belief.”

“Yuannian accepts the lesson.”

“Fine. Get lost.”

“Yuannian has one more matter.”

“Speak.”

“Today was originally Chuzhou City’s temple fair. A theatrical troupe from Shangjing had already been booked to perform Lin opera. Yuannian intends to let the troupe go on stage as planned. If we distribute some grain and money, we can draw plenty of common people to watch. Then we can send soldiers to knock on the doors of Chuzhou’s officials. They will certainly come and sit with us. Your... Your Highness can attend the opera with Mother. That way it will be lively. And afterward, every person there will be implicated. Nobody will be able to wash himself clean.”

Zheng Fan nodded when he heard this.

“At least you have some brains.”

“Many thanks for Your Highness’s praise.”

“When?”

“It begins at noon.”

“I’ll go.”

“Many thanks, Your Highness.”

Zheng Fan waved a hand.

Zhao Yuannian saluted and withdrew.

The Princess Consort took out a handkerchief and gently wiped the corner of Zheng Fan’s mouth.

“Your son isn’t completely useless,” Zheng Fan said.

“Yuannian’s father died early. And Qian has always treated the Zhao imperial clan with suspicion. Being a feudal prince is difficult too. In the future, as his father, you’ll need to guide him more.”

Strange.

When Zhao Yuannian called himself “this child,” the Prince found it unbearably cloying.

But when the same thing came out of the Princess Consort’s mouth, it somehow carried a completely different charm.

Zheng Fan set down his chopsticks.

“I’m going to inspect the camp outside the city first. I’ll come back and pick you up later. But what kind of custom is this among you Qian people? Starting an opera performance at high noon?”

The Princess Consort smiled.

“The opening of the opera coincides with the temple fair. The noon hour is chosen to ward off evil and pray for favorable winds and rains.”

“Fine.”

The Prince rose and went outside.

At the courtyard gate...

Chen Xianba, Liu Dahu, and Zheng Man were all standing there eating breakfast.

Their food was much simpler.

When the Prince first appeared, the three had prepared to follow.

Zheng Fan waved them off and chose A’Ming and the Sword Saint to accompany him instead.

“We’re staying behind to protect this Queen Mother?” Liu Dahu asked around a bite of steamed bun.

“Probably,” Zheng Man said. He thought the same.

Chen Xianba remained cold and aloof and did not join the discussion.

In truth... the three boys each had their own view regarding their Prince spending the night with the Princess Consort.

But those thoughts could only remain buried in their hearts.

They could never be dragged openly into conversation.

If personal guards failed to understand even that much, they would truly be idiots beyond salvation.

Zheng Man had not yet shed the instincts of the wolf cub raised in the desert.

In his view, killing a man and taking his woman was perfectly natural from the perspective of the Barbarians.

Women, livestock, pasture... all belonged to the strong.

His grades at the academy had been poor, but he had still read plenty of books there.

And he had discovered that Xia people were rather interesting.

On the surface they wrapped everything in a layer of propriety.

At the core, they were not especially different from the Barbarians.

If a local tyrant dragged a woman off the street and slept with her, that was called abducting a respectable woman and would be condemned by everyone.

But if a man stole a Princess from an enemy state and slept with her... that was called heroism.

For example...

Liu Dahu was far calmer about it.

His biological father had died early.

When his present father married his mother, Liu Dahu had already been part of the package.

So to him, the Prince taking in this Queen Mother and adding a Zhao Yuannian along with her seemed perfectly normal.

Chen Xianba, meanwhile, believed the Prince had considered the entire matter purely from military and political angles.

When he went to collect breakfast that morning, he had already sensed the excitement spreading through the military camp.

Their Prince was a great man.

How could he possibly take in a woman merely because of her beauty?

Ai.

The Prince truly had it hard.

...

After enduring such hardship, Prince Pingxi finished inspecting the camp outside the city and returned to Chuzhou.

A carriage that had been waiting for him slowly emerged from Prince Fu Residence.

Inside sat the Princess Consort, dressed magnificently.

Zhao Yuannian stood beside the carriage.

The Prince did not dismount and climb inside.

Instead, he urged his Pixiu alongside it and tapped the carriage wall.

“Stuffed in there.”

“All right.”

The Princess Consort emerged.

Prince Pingxi caught her by the waist, lifted her easily, and seated her sideways in front of himself.

“Let’s go watch the opera.”

Armored soldiers cleared the road.

The ceremonial procession advanced.

Plenty of common people lined both sides of the street.

When the Prince approached, all of them knelt.

If you refused to kneel, fine.

The Yan crossbows would immediately turn toward you.

Even so, the atmosphere did not feel especially oppressive.

Some of the commoners actually wore smiles.

The Princess Consort looked rather excited.

“I’ve truly never gone out like this before. Your Highness, when we reach Prince Pingxi Residence in Fengxin City, can I be this free there too?”

“I never said I was taking you back to the Residence.”

The Princess Consort pouted.

An offended expression on a “big girl” like her was actually quite beautiful.

She rested her head against Zheng Fan’s chest and said pitifully:

“Your Highness, you can’t eat me clean and then refuse responsibility.”

“If anyone did the eating, it was you.”

“Then this concubine has taken enormous advantage of Your Highness. How impressive of me.”

“Very impressive. Since I began leading troops into Qian, your armies haven’t inflicted as much damage on my men as you did with that one swallow.”

“Mm?”

“Heh.”

The Prince laughed to himself and offered no explanation.

The stage had been erected at Chuzhou City’s drill ground.

It was enormous.

Wooden tiers had been built around it for the audience to sit on.

The arrangement somewhat resembled the Roman amphitheaters Zheng Fan remembered, though there was hardly anything unique about the idea. The technical difficulty was not exactly high.

A great many people had already gathered inside.

The commoners sat farthest out.

Quite a few looked genuinely excited.

Everyone knew Yan people were brutal.

But what did Yan brutality have to do with Prince Pingxi?

Prince Pingxi had visited Chuzhou City twice now.

And both times, had he not handed out either money or grain?

If only Prince Pingxi would come visit more often.

Great Qian was a state of splendid literary culture.

But whether one called it literary culture or culture in general, the ordinary people did not actually enjoy very much of it.

The scholar-official class did.

In essence, that was not fundamentally different from the nobility of Chu.

The vested-interest class had simply changed its skin.

And Qian scholars loved shouting things like “we plead for the people,” which at least looked far more refined than Chu nobles constantly calling commoners “slaves” and “wretches.”

Qian’s wealth lay in the south of the Yangtze.

The climate and geography of northern Qian ought, in theory, to have been far superior to Yan’s.

Yinlang Commandery, the southernmost part of Yan and proudly called its “little Jiangnan,” was already as far north as the northernmost reaches of Qian.

Yet Qian’s taxes and corvée obligations had always been heavy.

And then there was the Three Frontiers system, which had given both the sovereign and ministers of Great Yan endless headaches.

Every year, the money, grain, manpower, and resources swallowed by that defensive system reached astronomical levels.

Most of that burden ultimately fell upon the people of Qian’s northern commanderies.

At the same time, absurdly enough, even Yan people knew how truly wealthy Qian’s Jiangnan region was.

Yet in taxation and requisition of labor, the Qian court imposed almost no meaningful difference between north and south.

Put differently, the incomparably wealthy Jiangnan had never provided Qian with the blood transfusion its prosperity ought to have supplied.

It was not that no Emperor had ever tried to change the arrangement.

But as Jiangnan families rose through the examination system and gradually became a hereditary class much like Chu’s nobility, rows upon rows of their representatives accumulated inside the court.

The moment anyone proposed tax reform—even when the Emperor himself merely hinted at such an idea—a great crowd of officials willing to “sacrifice themselves for righteousness” would rush forward with memorials to oppose and strangle the proposal.

Their justification was always lofty:

Your Majesty must not compete with the people for profit!

Fortunately for Qian, Yan troops had driven all the way to Shangjing several years earlier and ripped away the state’s face in one stroke.

That Qian Emperor had been able to use the crisis to topple several old Chancellors.

A great deal of empty pay and false manpower on the military registers had been squeezed out.

And Qian’s great Jiangnan families, frightened that Yan armies might someday continue marching south, loosened their grip a little.

Only then had the Qian court gained the resources to train new armies and reconstruct at least the skeleton of a defensive system across the north.

In a sense, Yan’s previous invasion had forced Qian to correct some of its own defects.

No wonder the late Emperor of Yan had worried that if Qian were given too much time, conquering it later would require far greater effort.

Zheng Fan had once shared that concern.

But after seeing Lanyang City... and now this scene before him... that worry had faded again.

Many officials had come.

Almost all wore formal robes and sat with extreme caution.

When Zheng Fan appeared, some stood and saluted him obsequiously.

Others became visibly flustered.

A small number seated farther out remained sitting and deliberately wore expressions of disdain and resentment.

Among these people, that already counted as abundant courage.

But as for actually opening their mouths to curse him... naturally, no one would.

Fan Li was responsible for suppressing Chuzhou City.

Unfortunately, this was a city with experience.

It behaved very obediently.

As a result, Fan Li’s axes had become extremely lonely.

“Greetings, Prince Pingxi.”

“We pay our respects to Prince Pingxi.”

Zheng Fan nodded faintly toward them, as though facing a group of Yan officials.

Then... he sat in the chair prepared especially for him.

Translucent screens had been placed to either side.

They were little more than symbolic, because the Princess Consort also needed to sit beside Prince Pingxi.

For a moment, many of the Chuzhou officials who had been trembling earlier looked toward the screen where she sat and revealed disdain and contempt.

One man even drew out a long sound, cleared his throat... then spat a thick gob of phlegm onto the ground.

Pah.

Shameless woman.

What a disgrace to us Qian people!

Prince Pingxi was, after all, a martial expert.

He rarely put himself in situations where he needed to risk his life personally, but his senses remained extremely sharp.

As for the Princess Consort... she was the focus of everyone’s attention.

The moment she sat down, she had already felt the hostility from all around.

Yet she remained dignified, as though none of it disturbed her.

Zheng Fan glanced at her.

She turned her head, looked at him, and smiled faintly.

The Prince lifted a hand and waved.

Chen Xianba and the others understood.

They removed the screens.

At once... all the Chuzhou officials sitting around them fell silent.

As the temple fair’s sacrificial rites began... the great performance on the stage opened as well.

It was absurd.

The temple fair rites were supposed to pray for peace throughout the country and favorable winds and rains.

Yet now a Prince of Yan was already sitting below the stage watching the opera.

Lin opera was a popular form in Qian.

Its performance style bore some resemblance to the Peking opera Zheng Fan knew.

The Sword Saint stood beside Zheng Fan with his sword in his arms.

A’Ming stood behind him.

Originally, a crowd of armored soldiers had wanted to surround the Prince.

Zheng Fan waved them farther away.

Zhao Yuannian stood beside his mother and bent forward to explain:

“Your Highness, this play is called Escorting Jingniang. It tells the story of Great Qian’s Emperor Taizu, before he ascended the throne, escorting a woman across a thousand li through the jianghu so she could find her husband.”

Zheng Fan nodded.

“Your ancestor really had too much free time.”

Zhao Yuannian smiled.

“Yes.”

By rights, Zheng Fan ought not to have appreciated things like this.

But in truth, if one was willing to sit quietly and savor them, there was indeed a certain flavor.

The singing was flowing.

The pace tight.

Combined with drums and music, it possessed a charm all its own.

Prince Pingxi clapped.

Immediately... the Chuzhou officials behind and beside him began clapping as well.

The applause started sparse.

Then gradually grew enthusiastic.

Some officials seated closer even shouted:

“Bravo!” whenever Prince Pingxi smiled.

Then...

Zheng Fan smiled again.

“Bravo!”

“Bravo!”

Whether the Prince was smiling at the quality of the performance or at the men cheering simply because he smiled, nobody could say.

“Does Your Highness like it?” the Princess Consort asked.

She picked up a piece of preserved fruit as though preparing to feed it to him, then remembered and placed it into her own mouth instead.

Zheng Fan nodded.

“It’s all right.”

But after listening longer, boredom inevitably began seeping into the brilliance.

After all, Zheng Fan had no real emotional connection to Great Qian’s Emperor Taizu.

Liu Ruqing’s little songs, carrying their Chu accent, were still more pleasant.

He could listen to those without growing tired.

By the middle and latter portions...

Prince Pingxi’s thoughts had already begun wandering.

The officials present, however, watched with great seriousness.

Once Prince Pingxi stopped making any obvious responses, occasional cheers still rose here and there.

Some officials even gradually began to tear up.

Liu Dahu quietly asked Chen Xianba beside him:

“Brother Ba, why are they crying?”

Chen Xianba answered immediately:

“The man on the stage is their Emperor Taizu. They’re crying for their Emperor Taizu too. Maybe they’re thinking that if Emperor Taizu were still alive today, how could he possibly let us stand here and listen to this opera?”

It had to be said.

Chen Xianba’s eye for such matters was remarkably accurate.

Because that was exactly what many of them were thinking.

Looking across more than a century of Great Qian’s history, the only Emperor who could truly be called an Emperor on horseback was its founder, Emperor Taizu.

Taizu had helped the Emperor of Liang carve out the Liang dynasty.

After the yellow imperial robe was placed upon his shoulders, he seized Liang and founded Qian.

Then he swept away the other states of ancient Xia territory and unified what now formed the lands of Great Qian.

He had truly been an Emperor who could fight.

An Emperor skilled at war.

And after him... came his younger brother, Emperor Taizong.

Taizong not only buried the founding elites of Qian in one stroke, he himself ended with an arrow in the backside, fleeing home miserably in an ox cart.

Every Qian Emperor after that remained undefeated.

Because not one of them ever personally led another army on campaign.

And now...

Yan soldiers stood at their side.

A Prince of Yan sat here with the Queen Mother of a Qian imperial branch beside him.

For these officials, the humiliation was genuine.

How could they not remember Emperor Taizu?

What other Emperor could they remember?

Prince Pingxi was already close to yawning.

His eyelids had even begun fighting one another.

He truly had nothing else to do.

The army was resting and reorganizing.

That was the only reason he had come to participate in this largely unnecessary political performance.

Had he known it would be like this, he might as well have stayed in Prince Fu Residence.

Turning his head, he glanced at the Princess Consort, who was now absorbed in the opera.

Perhaps this Queen Mother could sing a few passages too?

Wouldn’t it have been better simply to remain in the Residence and listen to her sing for him?

Ai.

Boring.

Truly boring.

At last... the performance reached its climax.

The martial actor playing Emperor Taizu held a Dragon-Subduing Staff and began brutally beating the villain who had tried to lay hands on the woman.

But at that exact moment... the Dragon-Subduing Staff in the performer’s hand suddenly split apart.

A spearhead appeared from inside!

In that instant, the martial actor seemed like Great Qian’s Emperor Taizu himself returned to life.

The performer twisted around and glared directly at Prince Pingxi seated below, near the stage.

Then shouted:

“Yan dog! Do you think Great Qian has no one left? Die!”

The cry and the body seemed to arrive almost together.

The performer shot forward like a startled swan in flight.

In an instant... panic appeared on the Princess Consort’s face.

Behind them, many of the Qian officials instinctively began standing.

Inside their hearts, they were screaming:

Thank Heaven and Earth!

Has Emperor Taizu manifested his spirit?

The sudden change seemed to plunge everything present into an incredibly brief stillness.

The spear lunged like a dragon.

Straight toward Zheng Fan’s face!

Chen Xianba roared and reached for his saber.

A’Ming moved even faster.

Like a gust of wind, he appeared in front of Zheng Fan first.

But someone else was faster still.

That man had quietly remembered the assassination on the Wang River and sworn to himself that if another assassination ever occurred, he would strike immediately with thunderous force and crush it before it could unfold.

“Hum!”

Longyuan left its sheath.

In an instant, the blade severed the spear shaft in the martial actor’s hands.

Then sword qi swept outward with the motion and slammed the performer, still airborne, straight into the ground.

“Assassin!”

“Protect His Highness!”

Only then did the surrounding armored soldiers have time to surge forward.

“Stand down!”

Zheng Fan rose and gave the order.

The soldiers immediately withdrew.

Behind him, seeing the assassination fail, the gathered officials of Chuzhou City began shouting with extraordinary righteous fury.

“Outrageous! How dare you attempt to assassinate His Highness!”

“Insolence!”

In truth... they were scared almost to death.

They feared that this Yan Prince would erupt in rage and implicate all of them.

The martial actor lay on the ground coughing blood.

The sword qi had already inflicted serious injuries.

The Prince looked at the Sword Saint and laughed.

“It’s rare that I get an assassination with no real pressure. You should have left this one for me to show off.”

The martial actor had only barely entered the Grades.

At best, the performer could be called someone who had just barely crossed the threshold.

On stage, the fighting had looked impressive, but most of it was flowery technique.

Zheng Fan himself was already a Fifth Grade expert.

He could have stayed seated in his chair and tried catching the spear barehanded.

Mm.

Like one of those grand eunuch chiefs of the Eastern Depot.

The Sword Saint said:

“Fine. I’ll leave the next opportunity to you.”

“Don’t. I was joking. Don’t take that seriously. Don’t you dare take that seriously.”

Prince Pingxi walked over to the fallen martial actor.

Then sighed with emotion.

“At least there’s still one real man in Chuzhou City.”

Compared with all these grand officials seated around them, this performer of extraordinarily low social status was the one who genuinely possessed blood, courage, and responsibility.

At that moment...

A’Ming reminded him:

“Master, that’s a kun-role performer.”

Meaning... a woman playing a male character.

Zheng Fan turned his head slightly.

Sure enough.

The “martial actor” had no Adam’s apple.

Even now... blood running from one corner of her mouth, she still glared fiercely at Zheng Fan standing before her.

She gritted her teeth.

“Yan dog... you’ll... die horribly...”

Her voice was no longer deliberately shaped for the opera role.

A woman’s natural tone emerged.

Zheng Fan sighed.

Then he turned back... and looked once more at the assembled officials behind him.

Chuzhou City was the seat of Chuzhou Commandery.

The officials here were not low-ranking men.

But the instant Prince Pingxi’s gaze swept toward them... many immediately dropped to their knees.

“Your Highness, this has nothing to do with us! Nothing to do with us!”

“Your Highness, we knew nothing! We knew nothing!”

“We didn’t send the assassin! We didn’t...”

The Princess Consort had come over as well and now held Zheng Fan’s arm, leaning against him.

Zhao Yuannian moved closer too, wanting to stand before Zheng Fan protectively, yet worrying that any sudden movement might be misunderstood.

Suddenly...

Prince Pingxi lifted his face toward the sky.

He laughed twice.

“Heh... heh...”

Then he sighed.

“What face does Great Qian have left to keep standing?”

[End of Chapter 851]