The warm spring breeze carried a faint rusty smell from Liang Ye into the carriage. He looked slightly confused, having moved too quickly and only catching the last sentence.
“Martial Uncle and I were just joking,” Wang Dian looked very kind-hearted.
“Perhaps it wasn’t entirely a joke,” Xiao Chunhe let out a soft laugh.
Wang Dian extended his hand toward Liang Ye and said gently, “Come sit here.”
Without any hesitation, Liang Ye took his hand and sat close beside him, showing him the cut on the back of his hand with a serious expression.
Wang Dian wiped away the blood with his thumb, quickly touching it again as it was about to heal, “How did you get hurt?”
“Scratched it while starting the fire,” Liang Ye frowned, appearing to be in pain.
Wang Dian touched it again, “Starting a fire?”
Liang Ye immediately perked up, proudly saying with delight, “Since they love searching so much, Zhen will let them stay in the General’s mansion forever.”
Wang Dian lifted the curtain to look back, and sure enough, saw towering flames coming from the direction of the General’s mansion. Though he didn’t know how Liang Ye managed to make the fire so large, it was indeed satisfying to watch. He sat back down and gave him an approving look, “It’s good to burn it clean.”
Liang Ye grinned, slightly tilting his head, his nose brushing against Wang Dian’s sideburns, pausing to take a few light sniffs, his eyes gradually darkening with fascination.
Xiang Meng turned away, unable to bear watching.
Junior Martial Uncle, please come to your senses! He just said he wanted to kill you!
“When Yue Jingming said drinking too much White Jade Soup would make people stupid, I didn’t believe it,” Xiao Chunhe said with a wry smile. “I think you must have been soaked in it.”
Liang Ye said proudly, “Wang Dian is much better than White Jade Soup, Martial Uncle, you don’t understand.”
Wang Dian gave Xiao Chunhe a casual glance, as provocative as could be.
Xiao Chunhe finally understood why Yue Jingming disciplined this little disciple the harshest – if this were his disciple, he would have beaten him to death.
Look at how worthless he appeared!
Look at that arrogant, insufferable attitude!
One was enough to give someone a headache, but two together could drive someone to death with anger.
****
In a certain residence in Yingsu Square.
The one-armed youth knelt on the ground, looking at the tightly closed door before him, and said hoarsely, “Father, I truly know I was wrong. Please see your son just once.”
The door remained tightly shut with no response.
“Father, I didn’t want to pledge loyalty to Cui Yuxian and the noble families behind her, but I never intended to betray you,” Yang Wujiu said with reddened eyes. “If you hadn’t picked me up back then, I would have frozen to death on the street. You fed me, clothed me, let me live freely without restraint. I’ve never forgotten your kindness. In my heart, you are my real father. I…”
He wiped his tears forcefully with his hand, “I just wanted you to be able to hold your head high in the future, to bring glory to our family name, so people wouldn’t look down on you anymore. My loyalty to His Majesty isn’t because of some devotion to the country, it’s just because I wanted-”
The door suddenly opened, revealing Yang Man’s wrinkled face. He glared with a thin voice, “What nonsense are you spouting, you little bastard! If His Majesty heard these words, how could you expect any good outcome!”
Seeing him open the door, Yang Wujiu looked up with joy, “Father! You finally agreed to see me!”
However, Yang Man stared in shock at his empty sleeve, “Where is your arm!?”
Yang Wujiu opened his mouth, then lowered his eyes guiltily, saying softly, “It’s nothing, Father, it’s already healed.”
“Where is your arm!” Yang Man bent down to feel the empty sleeve, his voice hoarse and angry, “Who did this!? Was it Liang Ye!?”
“No, no, Father!” Yang Wujiu hurriedly supported him with his one hand, “I was careless on the battlefield and got my arm cut off by a Tatar. The wound became infected and couldn’t be treated, so they had to amputate the whole thing.”
(TL: “鞑子” (dá zi) Tatar=is a historical and somewhat derogatory Chinese term that was used to refer to non-Han ethnic groups, particularly the Mongols or Manchus. It was often used during periods of conflict or foreign rule, the term can carry a pejorative connotation, depending on the context.)
Yang Man stared at him in shock.
“It doesn’t affect my movement at all, Father, look, I’ve even learned many martial arts and gotten much stronger,” Yang Wujiu quickly explained, and to prove his strength, he lifted Yang Man up with just one arm. “I killed many Loufan people on the battlefield! I was credited for bringing news about the Northern Army, and His Majesty even granted me a noble title! Father, look!”
Yang Wujiu tried to untie his bundle with one hand, but in his eagerness couldn’t manage it. The more anxious he became, the harder it was to untie. Seeing this, Yang Man crouched down to help him open the small bundle, revealing its contents.
“Father, this is the imperial edict for my noble title from His Majesty, this is my merit certificate for killing enemies, these are all the silver I earned. It wasn’t convenient to carry on the road so I exchanged them for silver notes. And this… this is something I bought for you on the way…” Yang Wujiu happily introduced the items in the bundle.
These rewards and silver would have meant nothing to Yang Man in the past – he was Cui Yuxian’s confidant, and what he casually gave to servants in one instance was far more than this. Even though his property had been confiscated, these were what Yang Wujiu had exchanged with his blood and life.
Earned cleanly, offered filially.
Yang Man’s aged hands held the military merit certificates and silver notes from the bundle, tears streaming down his face, “You foolish child, you’ll be the death of me…”
Yang Wujiu grinned foolishly at him, “Father, I’m fine now, and I’ve brought honor to your name. I’d like to see who dares look down on you now.”
Yang Man wasn’t a good person. He had aided and abetted Cui Yuxian’s evil deeds for decades, accumulating many sins. That final knife he thrust at Cui Yuxian was both for himself and for Yang Wujiu, who had already pledged allegiance to Liang Ye. At the time, he had only hoped that Liang Ye would spare Yang Wujiu’s life for the sake of that knife – his own survival was an unexpected blessing.
He had only dared to hide in this remote courtyard, not daring to go out or seek news of Yang Wujiu, not knowing if he was dead or alive. After bribing many people, he only received one statement that “you raised a good son,” but didn’t dare to search more openly.
Learning of Yang Wujiu’s return, he felt both joy and anger. The person had knelt at his door for a day and a night, and he only opened the door because of Yang Wujiu’s slip of the tongue, only to find a son missing an arm.
As father and son were embracing and weeping, the tightly closed gate of the small courtyard was suddenly kicked open rudely from outside, startling them both.
Yang Wujiu immediately shielded Yang Man behind him, picking up the sword that lay nearby, and shouted angrily, “Who goes there!?”
Liang Ye walked in with his hands behind his back, his gaze passing directly over the instantly terrified father and son, critically surveying the tiny courtyard, and let out a disapproving snort.
“We pay our respects to Your Majesty!” Yang Man quickly pulled Yang Wujiu down to kneel and bow.
“Zhen was just saying there weren’t any decent residences in this area,” Liang Ye turned to speak to the person behind him. “You insisted on coming along.”
Yang Wujiu boldly raised his head to peek, and saw Wang Dian following behind Liang Ye, immediately brightening up. Then he saw a man and woman dressed as Taoists, both looking quite young, and met Chong Heng’s warning gaze. Before he could lower his head, Yang Man’s hand pressed down on his neck, unexpectedly making him eat a mouthful of dirt.
His father, who moments ago couldn’t stand without support, now seemed to have the strength of an ox and could practically bury him on the spot.
Wang Dian observed the kneeling father and son, just as Liang Ye said coldly, “Living in such a place, really beneath Chief Eunuch Yang’s station.”
These words were clearly barbed and quite unpleasant. Yang Man immediately kowtowed even lower, his voice trembling, “This lowly one wouldn’t dare, wouldn’t dare!”
Liang Ye’s eyes gleamed with malicious amusement as he gave the trembling Yang Man a chilling smile, “Zhen still remembers the Chief Eunuch’s past glory. What wouldn’t you dare?”
His grudge against Yang Man, if counted carefully, wasn’t much less than that against Cui Yuxian. Back then, he had put considerable effort into using Yang Wujiu to drive a wedge between Cui Yuxian and Yang Man. Yang Man had ultimately helped him deal with Cui Yuxian, which was why he had barely managed to keep his life, but that didn’t mean he didn’t hold a grudge.
Wang Dian glanced at his expression and knew this fellow wanted to act up, so he cleared his throat and said, “His Majesty has always been magnanimous. Wujiu, help your adoptive father up.”
“Yes, Your Highness! Thank you, Your Majesty, for your mercy!” Yang Wujiu’s brain finally started working, and he quickly helped Yang Man up, respectfully retreating to the side, afraid of offending Liang Ye’s eyes.
Liang Ye looked at Wang Dian with displeasure.
Wang Dian smiled gently, extending a hand forward like a host welcoming guests, “Your Majesty, please.”
Liang Ye snorted coldly and swept forward. Xiang Meng and Xiao Chunhe followed behind, entering the house. Wang Dian said to the trembling Yang Man and Yang Wujiu, “Please come inside, both of you. His Majesty has come with questions for Chief Eunuch Yang. Please.”
“We wouldn’t dare, wouldn’t dare. Your Highness, please go first,” Yang Man’s suspended heart finally settled somewhat. He gripped Yang Wujiu’s wrist tightly and gratefully said, “Your Highness, please.”
Wang Dian gave a faint smile and stepped into the house.
Yang Man pulled Yang Wujiu close and asked in a low voice, “The Prince of Danyang just called you Wujiu. When did you become acquainted?”
As they say, people grow wiser with age. Yang Man, having served beside Cui Yuxian for decades, had enough discernment – according to what he knew, this Wang Dian was no simple character and wouldn’t help them without reason.
“A…a long time ago, we met last spring. We’re friends,” Yang Wujiu stammered. His legs were still shaking a bit – the real Liang Ye was far more terrifying than Chong Heng’s impersonation.
“How dare you claim friendship with His Highness, do you think your life is too long? When we go in, don’t speak carelessly, just stay quiet, understand?” Yang Man scolded him in a low voice.
“Yes,” Yang Wujiu shrunk his neck and nodded vigorously.
Only then did Yang Man steady his nerves and pull him into the house.
A black token was thrown onto the table. Liang Ye stared at him with a cold smile, “Yang Man, have you seen this object before?”
Yang Man looked at the token on the table, and after seeing the patterns on it clearly, his face instantly went white. He fell to his knees with a thud, sweating profusely, “In response to Your Majesty, this servant… this servant has seen it.”
“Whose token is this?”
A chill instantly spread across Yang Man’s back, goosebumps rising densely. The fear and shattered horrific scenes from decades ago resurfaces in his mind. With trembling lips, he said, “It was… the token that Emperor Huixian granted to…the State Preceptor when he was alive.”
TN:
“国师” (guó shī) means “State Preceptor” or “National Teacher” – honorary title given to high-ranking religious or scholarly figures who advised the emperor, often in Buddhism, Daoism, or other spiritual matters.
“帝师” (dì shī) specifically means “Imperial Preceptor” – refers to a teacher or mentor directly responsible for educating the emperor.
