Shackles

“You want me to change my address and style myself as ‘Zhen’?” “Yes.” “With how bold you are, I thought you would be set on overthrowing the dynasty altogether.” “In the face of the sects, the Prime Minister's Manor needs the imperial clan. We need a sovereign surnamed Li—one who holds real power and is willing to continue the policies of the Jiajing era—as a partner.” “An intriguing suggestion. I take it you have already approached others before me?” “Yes.” He looked straight into her eyes, awaiting her answer. To discuss such treasonous affairs within Jinluan Hall itself—yet Li Qingyan's expression gradually grew amused. Shifting her gaze from Xu Yuan to settle upon the dragon throne atop the golden steps, the slender corners of her eyes curved slightly, and she let out an easy, low laugh. “This supreme seat that men scramble for like ducks—yet now, not a soul dares take it up. Changtian, why do you think that is?” “As the ruler of the realm, one must bear the weight of the realm.” Xu Yuan did not hesitate on this question. Though his father resembled Cao Cao of Wei, Great Yan's imperial house was not the puppet court of the late Han. To claim anyone feared ascending the throne merely out of dread of becoming a puppet emperor was sheer nonsense. With the imperial faction at their side and legitimacy in their grasp, from any angle, the Emperor of Great Yan remained the most powerful person in the realm. Hearing this, Li Qingyan furrowed her delicate brows slightly and murmured, “It seems those who refused you before me believed they lacked the right to bear the weight of this realm...” Recalling briefly, Xu Yuan said, “Li Yucheng is a royal born in the wrong era. As for Li Junqing... he should never have been born into the imperial family in the first place.” “So you believe I have the ability to bear the weight of the realm?” “Yes.” “Very well.” “...Huh?” “I accept. What is your plan?” “...” The stone pillars stood muted; the hall was dim and cavernous. Her red cloak trailing onto the floor, Li Qingyan sat behind the low table, her phoenix eyes smiling as she looked up at him—gazing steadily, the dark pupils of her eyes deep and inscrutable. Her blunt reply momentarily froze Xu Yuan's train of thought, but when he remembered her temperament, understanding dawned. The person before him now was neither Li Junqing, who prioritized self-preservation, nor Li Yucheng, who knew his own limits. This was Great Yan's God of Slaughter, a commander who dared stake everything on charging the enemy's main camp in a hopeless siege. Weighing his words for a moment, Xu Yuan parted his lips, but Li Qingyan raised a hand to cut him off. She had not asked the question expecting an answer, because he could not give one. Even if he forced an answer, it would amount to nothing more than empty promises and castles in the air. Under Xu Yuan's gaze, Li Qingyan's even voice rustled like turning pages: “After returning to the capital away from the front lines, I could not bear to idle, yet had nothing to do. So I sat in the palace, mulling over all manner of things. The realm, the Emperor and the Chancellor, bloodlines, and other tangled messes. Among them, I also considered the possibility of ascending the throne myself. But guess what conclusion I ultimately came to?” Hearing this, Xu Yuan's heart sank slightly. He asked, “Are you going to refuse as well?” Li Qingyan did not answer directly. Instead, she brought up seemingly unrelated matters: “Changtian, do you know why—from the imperial family down to humble merchants—deposing the eldest legitimate heir in favor of a younger or concubine-born son is considered such a taboo?” Pondering her motives, Xu Yuan replied, “A new sovereign brings a new court. Whether it is a merchant's retainers and clients or the nobility and court officials, all require certainty. Primogeniture gives them the confidence to stake everything they have on the table. Without primogeniture, every transfer of power across dynasties and generations would invite factional strife and upheaval.” “Then why have neither your Prime Minister's Manor nor my imperial family adhered to that principle in this generation?” “...” At this question, Xu Yuan's brows knit slightly. The answer could be simple: the current Emperor and Prime Minister possessed overwhelming prestige, and everything within the imperial and Chancellor's factions revolved around the two men themselves. Even if they bypassed the eldest to establish a younger heir, they would face little resistance. But this was clearly not what Li Qingyan was driving at. What she asked touched upon something far deeper. In times of peace, everyone seeks only to protect their own small turf, but the foreseeable future would be anything but peaceful. As the realm's two greatest flagships, both the Chancellor's faction and the imperial clan needed a better helmsman to safeguard themselves, to lead them through the surging, stormy seas into a dark future. In an era of life and death, survival was the primary rule; ancestral systems, stability, and all ethical norms had to take a back seat. The lords of the Chancellor's faction lacked faith in Xu Changge, whose rigid nature invited fracture; the imperial nobility doubted Li Yucheng's gentle benevolence. That was the deepest reason why the Prime Minister's Manor and the imperial family could bypass their eldest legitimate heirs without meeting any resistance. If the Emperor were to designate an infant, or the Prime Minister his fourth daughter, no matter how immense their prestige, the high officials and nobility below would still bristle and protest: “This is a ruinous decree; it need not be obeyed.” At this thought, Xu Yuan instantly understood the meaning behind Li Qingyan's words. He did not answer, nor could he. Li Qingyan could not gain the imperial faction's support. Or rather, she could not gain their trust. Even if Li Yaoxuan left a personal testament decreeing a female emperor, the imperial faction would denounce it as madness. Because of Xu Yuan. Because of the marriage contract between them. The Prime Minister's Manor and the imperial house coexisted at the heart of the realm, riddled with far too many contradictions and clashing interests. Xu Yuan was already openly positioned as the future master of the Prime Minister's Manor. How absurdly broad-minded would the imperial faction have to be to let Li Yaoxuan entrust the throne to the future bedmate of the master of the Prime Minister's Manor? Amid the surrounding silence, Li Qingyan slowly rose from the low table. Looking toward the dragon throne, she let out a faint sigh: “In ten thousand years of dynasties, there has never been a shortage of marriage alliances. Across Great Yan's millennium of rule, the Son of Heaven has multiple times taken Dachao princesses into the palace as consorts. Yet even when their armies collapsed like a landslide, even when driven deep into the Great Desert, the Dachao Royal Court never once consented to send their Divine Maiden into the court of Great Yan.” With that, Li Qingyan ascended the golden steps. Her footsteps echoed, her gaze clear and tranquil as water, her words rippling through the space: “In all the world, where has there ever been talk of an emperor being married off? You want me to style myself as ‘Zhen’—have you ever considered how you would position yourself?” Reaching the top of the golden steps, she looked back at the man below: “Do you intend to take your own life, or do you intend to set sail for the open seas like my imperial brother?” Xu Yuan kept his eyes on her shapely figure, replying solemnly, “This is the optimal solution. Otherwise, even if we join forces to pacify the sects, war will inevitably break out between the imperial throne and the Prime Minister once more.” Standing atop the golden steps, her back to the supreme dragon throne, Li Qingyan suddenly smiled—a dazzling, breathtaking smile. “In personal matters, I could yield to the future you describe. But affairs of state are no child's play. Even if I am willing to trust you, others will not trust me. “And besides... “Changtian, no matter how much you loathe Li Zhaoyuan, you should not have asked this. Giving in to personal feelings like this is far too inconsistent with how you bore the sins of the world before the imperial court.” With those words, the hole in the vaulted ceiling admitted gloomy light, along with scattered drops of rain that fell around the woman in red. Silence settled over the hall. After a long pause, watching him seemingly ponder a way out of the impasse, Li Qingyan shook her head slightly and spoke softly: “Let us speak no more of this for now. We haven't seen each other in so long—come take a walk with me?” Hearing the subtle shift in how she addressed herself, Xu Yuan let out a soft sigh. Saying nothing more, he stepped up the golden stairs. “You are just as you always were, not changed in the slightest.” At this, Li Qingyan lowered her phoenix eyes to stare at the cracked crater beside the low table: “You, on the other hand, have changed quite a bit.” Reaching her side, Xu Yuan glanced at the empty dragon throne atop the golden steps, asking as he accompanied Li Qingyan along the imperial passageway behind the Nine Dragons screen and out of Jinluan Hall, “Oh? Changed how?” Walking alongside him, Li Qingyan smiled, her eyes curving: “You've become better looking.” Xu Yuan gave her a slightly exasperated look. “Shallow.” Li Qingyan shook her head, curling her slender hand into a fist to rap gently against his heart with the back of her knuckles. She chuckled. “I mean inside. You've grown far more handsome on the inside than before.” As they spoke, the two exited Jinluan Hall through the imperial gate and followed the carved and painted corridors into the rear palace. Looking out at the overcast sky, Li Qingyan asked idly, “You used to strike people as flippant and untrustworthy. Seeing you today, I don't feel that at all anymore. Did this change come about because of that commandery princess who fell in battle?” “...” At the mention of Li Junwu, emotions welled up in Xu Yuan's chest, leaving him temporarily silent. “Why bring her up so suddenly?” Looking at his profile, Li Qingyan smiled faintly: “People who like to act entirely on their own judgment are all taciturn souls; they bottle everything up inside, and until now, you've had no one to confide in. The first disciple of the Sword Sect has a cold, aloof nature; seeing you grieve, she would at most stay quietly by your side. And that Saintess—heavens, when it comes to matters between men and women, she'd probably only mock you with a sharp tongue. As for the people in your Prime Minister's Manor, the Chancellor is another taciturn soul, and as for your eldest brother... forgive me, but I truly cannot imagine Xu Changge ever consoling anyone...” Accompanied by the trickling water along the corridor, the woman gently took his hand. Her long, dense eyelashes trembled slightly, her voice soft, measured, and layered with emotion: “Some things will only fester if you keep them bottled up inside. You will feel much better once you let them out.”