Outside Fudu Manor.
Lian Shenwei descended from the carriage, eyes slightly narrowed as he looked over.
“Much has changed.”
The layout of trees outside the manor was already somewhat unfamiliar to his eyes. Vines climbed outside the walls, bricks had cracks—no longer the prosperity of before.
Ming Zhu asked, “Master, won’t you go inside to look?”
“Just seeing it from afar is quite good.”
That was a place belonging to Lian Yubai. Today was also the death anniversary of the deceased—he shouldn’t go disturb them.
Elder Sister loved winter. Plum blossoms opened in the cold of winter. Jinling rarely saw snow, so each snowfall was novel—heaven and earth a spotless white expanse.
He preferred Jinling’s spring scenery more—all things growing, flourishing flowers filling the courtyard with fragrance.
June 2nd ten years ago wasn’t like today’s clear fine weather. When he received the news and rushed to Fudu Manor, everything was already over.
Humans truly were contradictory and complex creatures.
Sometimes he felt that given his current state, when matters were settled, directly dying wouldn’t be so bad—going sooner to accompany Elder Sister and the others.
But sometimes he thought—how unwilling he was.
He still had so much fine wine from Phoenix Terrace he hadn’t drunk. He still had so many places he’d never been. He still had close friends and debts yet to repay. His left hand could still grip a sword. Even unable to use internal force, he could still be an ordinary knight resting on wind and dwelling under moonlight.
He wanted to return to Jinling and see every year’s spring scenery for his remaining life.
Thinking this way, he occasionally felt living seemed not so bad—so he wanted to keep living.
If there were no Emperor Jingcheng, if he hadn’t met Elder Sister, if the previous emperor hadn’t known—would Fudu Manor not have had that day?
He’d been silent too long.
People paying respects at the manor came out one after another. Occasionally someone seeing him cast a curious glance but didn’t disturb him.
Lian Shenwei composed his expression. Facing the direction of the manor’s main gate, he knelt on the bluestone pavement and solemnly kowtowed three times from afar. When standing up, he raised his hand to press down the bamboo hat, his finger bones smoothly wiping the corner of his eye.
Then he turned and boarded the carriage, his tone undisturbed. “Let’s go.”
–
The capital.
Imperial palace. Zichen Hall.
“How is Ningfeng’s leg?”
Eunuch Li replied, “Reporting to Your Majesty, according to the old marquis, it has improved considerably. However, he still cannot walk.”
A young eunuch brought in the freshly brewed medicine. The medicinal smell in Zichen Hall immediately grew more intense. Emperor Jingcheng felt chest tightness and coughed a few times, saying wearily, “Tell the Imperial Medical Academy not to devise new prescriptions anymore.”
Eunuch Li’s face fell. “Your Majesty, your dragon body is paramount. Those…”
“Enough.”
Eunuch Li had served since childhood. Emperor Jingcheng didn’t need to think to know what he’d say next. He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair.
In the prime of life, yet already aged and listless, old age creeping in.
He didn’t know if everyone could see his declining vigor. After Lian Shenwei left, the capital had grown increasingly unstable.
“That young woman in the Ministry of Justice called Ye Mingqin—I’ve been hearing her name quite often lately.”
Eunuch Li replied, “Yes. Lord Ye has repeatedly solved extraordinary cases. Though a woman, she doesn’t yield to men.”
“I recall she came from the Regent Prince’s manor—the Regent Prince’s sworn sister?”
“Yes.”
“Called a sworn sister, yet I see no favoritism from her. She’s wholly devoted to the people—a rare upright official in court.”
Emperor Jingcheng suddenly recalled that night when Wei Li died—Lian Shenwei came to see him, saying he wanted to reserve the Right Vice Minister position.
He’d been curious whom Lian Shenwei would arrange for that position. Now it seemed, if he guessed correctly, it was mostly reserved for this young woman.
Ye Mingqin was someone Lian Shenwei cultivated as part of Jingjue’s foundation.
He didn’t find a strong woman improper. Weier had been just such a headstrong character.
Since she had genuine talent and learning, he wasn’t stingy about giving this child an opportunity to advance. In case one day he wasn’t around and Jingjue ascended the throne—before this young woman could establish herself, if she were killed as Lian Shenwei’s person, wouldn’t that be unjust?
However, staying in the Ministry of Justice wasn’t ideal for advancement.
Emperor Jingcheng pondered briefly. “The position of Director in the Ministry of Rites—I recall there’s still no candidate. The work is easier—let her go there.”
“The Personnel Selection Bureau of the Ministry of Personnel also seems short-handed. Let her go there to help out too, get familiar.”
Eunuch Li’s eyes widened in shock, suspecting he’d heard wrong.
He knew about Ye Mingqin. These past two months, like she was injected with adrenaline, she’d been tireless, with solid achievements and accomplishments accumulating one after another.
Many said she labored in vain—women had no qualification to take the imperial examinations. Climbing to fifth rank at twenty-one was already the limit. No matter how diligent, what could come of it?
Serving in the Ministry of Rites while also helping out at the Ministry of Personnel…
Ministry of Personnel positions were called “Heavenly Officials,” managing official assignments. How many dreamed of working there even in menial roles?
Right now, His Majesty’s meaning clearly showed intent for重用 [important appointment].
This Lord Ye had truly soared to the heavens in one step.
“This slave understands.”
Emperor Jingcheng didn’t care what he thought.
The First Prince and Third Prince were truly complacent—lacking the bearing of enlightened rulers. They used any means to win over court officials. Their birth mothers had recently increased their visits to Yangxin Hall and small moves behind the scenes.
The princes’ faction and Crown Prince’s faction were locked in fierce struggle. When Lian Shenwei was present, he’d surely handle it well. This emperor’s health now declined day by day—he forced himself to maintain court balance with exhausted spirit.
After touring south to Jinling, it was time to return.
Today was June 2nd…
Emperor Jingcheng lifted his brush. He wanted to paint his wife’s face from memory, but when the painting finished, it was only sparse, cold plum blossoms.
He sighed.
Ultimately, the imperial family had wronged Lian Shenwei. He would properly look after Weier for him.
Just then, a young eunuch hurried in. “Your Majesty, a letter from Jinling.”
Emperor Jingcheng opened it to read. This letter was written several days ago—its arrival in the capital was already quite fast. He quickly scanned the contents. His gaze stopped on these words: “Regent Prince encountered assassins, whereabouts unknown.”
His chest heaved violently several times.
After a long moment, he suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood and lost consciousness.
“Your Majesty!”
The hall immediately descended into panicked chaos.
–
“Mr. Qiu is Young Master Ximian’s friend. Why didn’t Young Master Ximian entrust you instead of seeking me, someone he’d never met?”
After paying respects, the sun was already setting. Ying Jingjue walked outward together with Qiu Che.
He didn’t know Fudu Manor’s memorial customs, but so many people stayed only in the outer manor, yet he alone went to the inner manor’s ancestral hall that hadn’t been cleaned in years.
Ying Jingjue wasn’t stupid.
The incense ash in that burner was very sparse, with a thick layer of dust—not at all like someone had paid respects. The things he’d tidied were all objects from many years ago.
He went on behalf of Young Master Ximian. Ximian said he needed to treat his injuries, but before this, hadn’t he gone inside to pay respects even once?
Moreover…
He’d never noticed before—Fudu Manor’s direct bloodline had the surname Lian.
Was it coincidence?
Qiu Che said, “It’s not that Ximian didn’t want to come—he didn’t dare.”
Ying Jingjue didn’t understand. “What do you mean?”
“When Fudu Manor met great disaster, Ximian didn’t make it in time. Close… friends died tragically. He feels guilty.”
Ying Jingjue was quiet briefly. “What about memorial observances in past years?”
“Past years, he never came either. We friends never excessively inquire about his sorrows. I don’t know why he chose you this time, but his character has always been casual—perhaps fate.”
Qiu Che stopped. “Ximian said helping him pay respects settles the life-saving debt. Henceforth, no need to come to Fudu Manor. He and you have no relationship—fate ends here. Won’t meet again in jianghu.”
Ying Jingjue was silent for several seconds. “This Prince understands.”
Qiu Che nodded. “I should go.”
Ying Jingjue asked, “Mr. Qiu seems anxious to leave. Is something the matter?”
“Going to find Ximian to ask about something.” Qiu Che cupped his fists. “Farewell.”
Ying Jingjue replied, “Farewell.”
After Qiu Che left, the smile faded from the young heir apparent’s face. He raised his hand and beckoned. A shadow guard appeared behind him.
Ying Jingjue ordered, “Investigate—Ximian’s relationship with Fudu Manor, and where the Regent Prince went during these days he disappeared.”
He’d received news that Lian Shenwei was fine, but he wanted to know—who saved Lian Shenwei, and where had he been these past days?
The shadow guard received orders and departed.
Ying Jingjue took one last look back at Fudu Manor.
In the evening glow of sunset, this manor was utterly quiet—silent in old dreams of the past, watching the child who’d grown up in its embrace leave home.
…
Lian Shenwei returned to this half of the fleet in Jinling.
Little Zhizi arranged a new room for him, also meticulously preparing meals, hot water, and clean clothes.
After Lian Shenwei rested briefly, he heard sounds of Ying Jingjue’s return. He tidied up simply and instructed Ming Zhu to let him in.
Ying Jingjue put on a concerned expression. “Is Teacher well?” His gaze fell on Lian Shenwei’s hand. He froze. “You’re injured?”
Lian Shenwei lowered his eyes to look, humming acknowledgment. “Thank you for Your Highness’s concern. This subject was attacked. Without internal force for protection, I accidentally struck my hand while fleeing.”
Ying Jingjue asked, “Then how did Teacher escape?”
Lian Shenwei had already prepared his explanation. “Sword qi came from behind. This subject lost consciousness. Ming Zhu said a white-robed swordsman saved us, then disappeared without trace.”
“White-robed swordsman? That should also be Young Master Ximian.”
Ying Jingjue watched his expression carefully, then half-truthfully recounted meeting Ximian, sighing. “…The masters of Fudu Manor actually have the same surname as Teacher. This Prince was truly startled, thinking Teacher had some connection to the manor.”
Lian Shenwei showed surprise. “Is that so? Perhaps our ancestors truly were of the same clan.”
Ying Jingjue smiled. “Speaking of which, Teacher has never told this Prince about your past. Before entering court service, was Teacher’s family also in the south?”
“Your Highness has forgotten—this subject has no family. His Majesty bestowed grace, personally transferring this subject’s household registration to the capital.” Lian Shenwei’s tone was indifferent.
He’d never worried about this identity. Emperor Jingcheng wouldn’t let him be exposed. Even if there were loose ends he hadn’t noticed, the emperor would smooth them over perfectly—handled without a drop leaking through.
Ying Jingjue said, “I see.”
Back then, Lian Shenwei had no following in court. Since Father Emperor personally instructed the matter, Lian Shenwei must have been investigated thoroughly—what relatives existed through nine generations, all recorded one by one in the registers without error.
The inexplicable intuition in his heart—was it illusion?
Lian Shenwei continued, “The southern tour has been quite long. His Majesty’s health is poor. Returning to the capital sooner would ease His Majesty’s burden. Your Highness should prepare to turn back.”
Ying Jingjue replied, “This Prince understands.”
–
Meanwhile.
When Qiu Che returned, he saw only an empty room.
He opened the letter Lian Shenwei left on the table. Lian Shenwei could write three types of handwriting—one belonging to Ximian, also used when sending grain to the border; another belonging to the identity of Teacher Li Ningfeng; and finally, the Great Sheng Dynasty Regent Prince.
What was written in Ximian’s identity was his original handwriting.
[Qiu Che:
Feng Ke said these years you always go to Fudu Manor first, then to your Dulan hometown to pay respects to your brother. I owe much and am too ashamed to face this. I don’t know what reaction I should make when mentioning this matter to you face-to-face.
I think after our reunion, you’ve also never mentioned Acheng—not wanting me to feel guilty.
Saying more is useless. You’ve never wanted to see me say these things anyway.
Brother Qiu, you and I had an appointed battle from ten years ago. After you return from Dulan, bring the Infinite Sword’s edge and fine wine to seek me in the capital.
Still the old rule—the loser must unconditionally agree to one thing from the winner.]
No signature.
After reading, Qiu Che took a deep breath.
The room was dim and gloomy. He pushed open the window. The ink-blue sky mixed with traces of green, vast and boundless. A crescent moon hung at the treetops.
Riverside.
Lian Shenwei stood at the bow gazing into distance.
Moonlight’s clear radiance fell down, covering one shoulder.
Someone shouted loudly:
“Returning—”
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wannaberecluse On SRTT Chapter 50.1