So many days had already passed. With He Chunhua's heart set entirely on his official career, how could he pass up such a golden opportunity to submit a memorial and claim credit?
"If Father's memorial arrived first, it might just be read and suppressed. Once rumors are flying everywhere, submitting the memorial will nail down the truth—it won't do the royal court any good to deny it."
"Why would it be suppressed?" He Lingchuan's thoughts shifted, and he suddenly understood. "Hiss—are you saying the royal court is wary of the overall situation and wants to keep it quiet? That's bad news. Wouldn't our achievements just be swallowed up?"
The royal court was currently dispatching troops to attack the Grand Marshal, and the fighting at Woling Pass had only recently ended. The vast empire was leaking from all sides, exhausting the court's efforts to plug the gaps. At a time like this, it likely had no wish to push the Governor of Xunzhou into open rebellion as well, creating yet another formidable enemy for itself.
In that case, it was very likely to suppress what had happened in the Panlong Desert and keep the matter secret. That way, both the royal capital and the Governor of Xunzhou could breathe a sigh of relief.
Yet if that happened, the military merit He Chunhua so dearly craved would probably slip right through his fingers.
After taking such huge risks and paying such a steep price, how could he accept that?
So He Chunhua's countermeasure was to send men into the capital to stir the pot first. Once the rumors spread, the Governor of Xunzhou would be forced to rebel even if he didn't want to!
The mutual suspicion between him and the royal court had always been thin as paper. Evidently, He Chunhua had decided to poke a hole straight through it himself.
Having thought it through, He Lingchuan could not help clapping his hands. "The old man's brilliant! There's plenty of life in him yet!"
He Yue lowered his head. "Once the rumors spread, our credit will be locked in stone. But the flames of war will reignite across northern Yuan, and who knows how many lives will be swallowed up. Or perhaps Nian Zanli will defect directly to the northern demon kingdom, and Great Yuan will instantly lose an entire province. For Great Yuan, neither outcome is good."
"And the royal court suppressing our achievements—is that supposed to be a good thing?"
"Perhaps the court intends to settle the Grand Marshal first before turning to deal with Xunzhou, defeating them one by one."
He Lingchuan found that amusing. "Nian Zanli isn't some scarecrow of straw and wood, standing there like an idiot waiting for people to attack him. With rebellion on his mind, he's like a powder keg. Better it goes off early than late; that might actually spare more lives." With that, he patted the back of his younger brother's head. "Sometimes, good intentions yield evil fruit."
He Yue let out a sigh. "There's something else I want to tell you, but don't go spreading it around."
He Lingchuan made a zipping motion over his lips. "Don't worry. There isn't any pillow talk escaping from my bed these days."
He also found it a little strange. Usually, this younger brother of his was aloof and independent, rarely seeing eye to eye with him. Why was it that since returning from the trip to the Panlong Desert, He Yue had become so much closer to him?
Could it be because he had helped He Yue deal with Nian Songyu?
He Yue instinctively glanced left and right. "A few days ago during dinner, Father asked me how I viewed the Grand Marshal's rebellion. I said it was outright treason."
He Lingchuan slurped down a huge mouthful of almond tofu. "What's wrong with that?"
"That was just to placate the old man," He Yue whispered. "In truth, putting myself in his shoes, I actually find the Grand Marshal's actions somewhat excusable. The King treats state affairs almost like child's play. Take our dealings with the northern demon kingdom, for instance—I agree more with the Grand Marshal."
"Oh?" He Lingchuan was somewhat surprised. "You don't support defending our territory?"
"Who wouldn't support it? But state policy must be based on reality, not reckless bravado. Look at Panlong City. It was truly magnificent, holding out for thirty-two years even after becoming an isolated enclave. But its motherland was feeble. No matter how hard Zhong Shengguang fought, all the Xiluo Kingdom managed to do was lose the Panlong Wasteland all over again—and a few years later, the kingdom itself was wiped out.
"The strong can speak with fiery passion, saying whoever crosses our borders shall be struck down no matter the distance, but the weak must know how to weigh trade-offs," He Yue said earnestly. "Right now, our motherland is no longer the rich and powerful Great Yuan of the past. Only if the Grand Marshal works hard to placate the northern realm can Great Yuan free up its hands to put down domestic turmoil."
He Lingchuan smiled. "You mean to say, settle internal affairs before resisting foreign aggression?"
He Yue nodded.
"Then what if the internal chaos can never be resolved? Warlord factions, floods, famine, rebel armies, border skirmishes... In the past ten years, disaster relief seems to be the only thing we've managed to handle, and even that hasn't always worked out. Red Cliff Road is peaceful only because Father governs Qiansong Commandery; seven or eight years ago, it wasn't like this at all."
He Lingchuan continued, "It isn't as if the Grand Marshal only gained power today. He's been assisting the sovereign in handling these troubles for a long time, and I haven't seen them properly resolved either."
He Yue opened his mouth to speak, then stopped and sighed.
He Lingchuan patted him on the shoulder. "Fretting needlessly is fine, but speaking recklessly isn't. Not a single word of what you said today can leave this room, or you'll drag both the old man and me down with you!"
He Yue replied crossly, "Of course. I'm not stupid."
"Liu Baobao is hosting drinks tonight at Xiangsi Tower. You coming?"
"I can't drink."
Right. Madam Ying kept a tight rein on her younger son. Fourteen years old—old enough to arrange a marriage, but alcohol was strictly off-limits. Tch!
He Lingchuan wanted to say more, but his eyes darted around, and he snatched another piece of red date cake instead. "I'm going to take a bath. We'll talk later."
Without waiting for He Yue's reply, he leaped out the window and vanished.
"Hey?" He slipped away so fast that He Yue felt something was amiss.
Just a few breaths later, several figures walked in through the doorway, led by none other than Madam Ying.
The moment she saw the tabletop, she froze. "Those are refreshments prepared for the guests at the tea party—they need to be served right now! Yue'er, if you were hungry, why didn't you say so? I could have had the kitchen prepare something and send it over."
There were barely a few pieces left of pastries meant for ten people. Since when had her son developed such an enormous appetite?!
He Yue: "..."
***
Having slipped back to his own courtyard, He Lingchuan patted his stomach. Sixty percent full—delightful!
He had fresh water drawn and took a wonderfully comfortable bath, followed by a cup of warm milk. Just as he was about to lie down for a short nap, his gaze caught the broken saber resting by the table.
Usually, the saber was kept in the study, but he had brought it over today without thinking.
Drawing the broken saber, he gently stroked the steel. Ever since leaving the illusory realm, the blade no longer seemed quite so chillingly sharp, as if the glare meant to cut into a person's eyes had no effect on him.
Of course, that applied only to him. When He Yue had lightly brushed the flat of the blade earlier—without even touching the edge—it had sliced right through his finger.
He Lingchuan raised his finger, touched the edge, and instantly pulled back.
He cherished his skin and flesh, after all.
His finger was fine, entirely unscathed.
Growing bolder, He Lingchuan pressed his finger down lightly against the blade.
Still no blood.
He pressed down hard, leaving a deep indentation on the pad of his finger, yet the skin remained unbroken.
It felt as though it had never been sharpened at all.
Overjoyed, He Lingchuan swung the saber several times through the air. With a crisp crack, a red sandalwood side table several feet away split cleanly in two.
This saber treated him, and him alone, differently!
He Lingchuan could not bear to put it down.
A lone soul arriving in an alien world, living in fine silks and dining on lavish feasts with servants swarming around him at all hours—yet everything had been inherited from the original host, always leaving him with a faint sense of unreal detachment.
Only this saber truly and genuinely belonged to him alone. No one else could touch it for even an instant.
What a pity that he did not know its name. A treasured saber deserved a name; why hadn't Zhong Shengguang carved its true name onto the scabbard?
Chapter 79