HMAM CH 72 Past Grudges
After waking from his noon nap, Lin Xiaosheng sat by the soft couch, flipping through account ledgers.
A gentle breeze floated through the curtains, carrying a faint fragrance. The sound of turning pages brought a soothing calmness.
Jing Ye turned over, yawned, and said, “It’s rare to have such peace and quiet.”
Lin Xiaosheng raised an eyebrow and replied, “Even though the young city lord Le is being a nuisance, Your Majesty indulges him and seems to enjoy it.”
Jing Ye smiled and said, “You’ve learned to be a bit jealous just like Lu Baizang. You blame zhen for indulging him. What alternative do you have for dealing with him?”
Lin Xiaosheng maintained his serious demeanor and said, “If Your Majesty genuinely wishes to, there are countless ways to deal with him. If Your Majesty does not have the heart for it, even the greatest martial skills or unmatched intelligence won’t matter.”
Jing Ye shook his head, “Fine, fine, it is always my fault no matter where I go.”
Lin Xiaosheng leaned closer, gently caressing the young emperor’s brows. Having flipped through the ledgers for a long time, there seemed to be an aroma of ink lingering on his fingertips.
“This subject only wishes that when Your Majesty is alone with me, Your Majesty won't think of others.”
Jing Ye patted his hand and said, “Ah Huan is just childish, passionate, and easily swayed by emotions. In a lifetime of a hundred years, there are so many things to manage; who would pour all their energy into love? To have a lasting bond is already a blessing.”
Lin Xiaosheng's eyes were incredibly beautiful as he looked at Jing Ye, appearing emotionless yet profoundly captivating.
“Then this subject asks for a lasting bond.”
The war with the Xirong was not over yet. Although Li Tingqiu had achieved a significant victory, the Xirong could not be completely eradicated. The outside was a territory of tribes. Jing Ye could only help the Wuhuan to win but couldn’t eliminate future threats.
Now the Xirong were retreating while also dispatching troops, occasionally engaging in skirmishes with the Wuhuan. Ultimately, it would depend on the wisdom of the Wuhuan King.
Gesha said, “Addu won’t lose.”
Jing Ye smiled, “I too hope your brother remains victorious, but battle conditions change swiftly, so we must always be prepared with a thorough plan.”
Gesha’s fingers caressed the iron strings of a pipa, resembling how he would touch the prized bow in his cabinet.
“The Wuhuan and Xirong have been enemies for generations. The elders in my tribe told me stories of the two tribes’ grudges spanning hundreds of years. Using the words of the Central Plains, ‘called a king if successful, called a bandit if defeated’; the winner gleefully enjoys decades before being overthrown by the other, entangled in disputes until now.”
Jing Ye said, “So both your tribes are strong, regardless of how fiercely they are suppressed. There will always be a day for a resurgence.”
“But no matter how brave a warrior is, he cannot outmatch the strategies of the Central Plain's emperors.” Gesha looked up and said, “The Xirong forces were rampant, and my tribe was on the brink of destruction. But Your Majesty sent your generals to rescue us, so that my tribe can have a fighting chance.”
The young man said softly, “Once the Wuhuan grows stronger, will Your Majesty lend a hand to the Xirong to suppress us?”
“This ebb and flow means our two tribes’ grievances are merely pieces on Your Majesty's chessboard.”
Jing Ye raised an eyebrow, “Did the Wuhuan King teach you this?”
Gesha replied, “Yes.”
Jing Ye laughed, flicking his finger against Gesha’s forehead. “Your brother is clear-sighted, but you are not quite like him. It’s common for allies to use one another; as long as everyone knows what’s happening, that’s enough. If it’s said aloud, it might hurt feelings.”
Gesha furrowed his brows in a rare frown, snorting in response, “If it’s mutual exploitation, then why worry about feelings?”
Jing Ye smiled slightly, “You believe zhen has exploited your brother, yet here you are, sitting in front of me, talking to me, aren’t you?”
Gesha found himself momentarily speechless, realizing, “Well, that’s…”
Jing Ye chuckled, seeing that he was still a child.
Gesha gazed intently at the young emperor's features.
Such words should not have been spoken. This person was the emperor, wielding great power over the world. With a single word from him, his entire tribe could survive; his brother had married a so-called noblewoman, and he traveled thousands of miles to the capital just to please a man.
But why was this fragile looking young emperor so different from the rumors?
He seemed like an ordinary young man, scolding when angry, laughing when happy, and coughing when embarrassed. The etiquette officials said a sovereign’s heart cannot be guessed, yet he boldly displayed his emotions, his feelings of joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness laid out clearly for all to see, and those around him had become spoiled by it, neglecting the caution of being with a ruler, which was like walking with a tiger.
Suddenly, Gesha asked, “Your Majesty, do you know why I was interrupted by the young city lord Le while playing the pipa a few days ago?”
Jing Ye was taken aback. “Why?”
Gesha lowered his long eyelashes and then raised his gaze. His features were deeper than those of the people from the Central Plains. When he smiled, his eyes resembled a deep pool of water, enticing and full of affection.
“Because that is the tune sung during weddings among the Wuhuan people. In Han, it roughly translates to: ‘If you give me a wooden peach, I will repay you with beautiful jade. It’s not just about reward; it’s about a lasting bond.’”
Jing Ye’s eyelid twitched. “It seems the etiquette officials at Fengyang Palace have taught you too much.”
“Your Majesty…”
“What should be taught is not taught, while everything that shouldn’t is taught. That calls for a penalty.”
“Your Majesty.” The young man leaned in closer, his lanky form surprisingly strong.
Jing Ye struggled a bit, his expression stern, “Consort Xiang, let go.”
The beautiful, androgynous young man leaned in closer, touching the tip of Jing Ye's nose. “Your Majesty, are you angry?”
“You’re on top of zhen, how can zhen possibly be happy?”
Gesha laughed, leaving a gentle kiss on Jing Ye’s lips, mumbling, “If Your Majesty wants to be angry, well then, go ahead. Your Majesty's angry expression looks good, too.”
Jing Ye: “…”
Where did this little prince learn such words? Was it from the etiquette officials?
The summer heat gradually faded and autumn slowly approached.
On this day, after finishing court, just as he entered the hall, he saw the small boy holding an even smaller child, playing and frolicking with him.
Jing Ye exclaimed, “Jing Le?”
Jing Le released Jing Yun, jumped down from the couch, and saluted, saying, “Paying respects to Your Majesty.”
Jing Ye smiled, helping him up and pinching the child’s soft cheeks.
Gu Hong sat on the other side, lifting the lid of his tea cup and saying, “Xiaoyi Pavilion has received an acquaintance of Mr. Lin. He entrusted someone to send the young heir here, saying he will stay for a couple of days.”
Jing Le added, “My teacher's senior aunt is here. My teacher says she doesn’t like children, so he told me to accompany my younger brother for a few days and not to disturb Your Majesty purposefully.”
Jing Ye shook his head and smiled, “Children can sometimes be so keen to learn these formalities.” Sitting on the couch, and calling for the maid to bring tea, he asked, “Zhen has never heard that Mr. Lin has a senior aunt?”
Gu Hong replied, “The Sword Sage descended the Daxue Mountain many years ago, rising to fame with a single sword technique. He seems to have no family ties, but it’s rumored that there was a female disciple in his sect with extraordinary talent. Unfortunately, she was hurt by love and her swordsmanship could not be restored; she has avoided the world for many years.”
Jing Ye asked, “Her swordsmanship was destroyed?”
“That Heroine Lin,” Gu Hong paused, smiling, “was enamored with the city lord of Pingyue City. However, the old city lord was indifferent and soon married someone else into the family, and within six months she was expecting. She barged into the city lord’s residence while the lady was seven months pregnant, creating quite an uproar. As a result, the lady, already weak and having given birth too early, passed away in childbirth, and the child barely just survived thanks to the efforts of the Ghost Doctor who rushed to save them.”
Jing Ye inhaled sharply, “That child is Ah Huan?”
Gu Hong nodded, “Indeed.”
Jing Ye felt a throbbing pain in his temples. He understood Le Zhenghuan’s temperament all too well; it used to be enough for him to lose his temper over a maid being disrespected, and now he was facing the senior aunt of that Sword Sage. It was only natural for there to be a deadly confrontation.
Fortunately, that little devil was currently out of the palace, having been thrown out to apprehend wanted criminals.
From then on, Jing Le lived in the side hall, together with Jing Yun, sharing the same space, as close as ever. Jing Yun said to Jing Le, “Brother, Uncle says I’m going to be an emperor in the future.”
Jing Le touched his younger brother’s small face, smiling warmly, “Yes, Yun'er is sure to be as wise as His Majesty.”
Jing Yun leaned against Jing Le’s still small shoulders, “Then what about you, Brother?”
“I am…” Jing Le turned his head to kiss his cheek, “Whatever Yun'er thinks I am, that’s what I will be.”
Inside Xiaoyi Pavilion, Lin Qiqi took a sip of plain water, flavorless, just like her junior nephew.
“It’s been a long time since we last met.”
“Congratulations on mastering your heart sword, Senior Aunt,” Lin Hangyu said.
Looking at the child before her, Lin Qiqi thought, she really didn’t feel he was congratulating her.
But that was fine; he was like his teacher, day in and day out, sitting in this humble courtyard, no different from sitting atop Daxue Mountain.
Lin Qiqi remarked, “I’ve secluded myself for too long. I’ve come out this time to fulfill a long-held wish and to visit you as well.”
Lin Hangyu nodded, “Thank you, Senior Aunt, for coming to see me.”
Lin Qiqi looked at him and suddenly smiled, “Do you know why I could come to see you by chance?”
Before Lin Hangyu could respond, and not expecting him to answer, she continued, “That person refuses to see me; if he doesn’t want to see me, no one can find him. Fortunately... ha, he has a son.”
Lin Qiqi's fingers were delicate, so slender it seemed they lacked bones; no one would guess these were hands that wielded a sword.
“I once hated that child’s birth, yet now, I must rely on him to find him.”
“Senior Aunt, sword path is destroyed,” Lin Hangyu finally spoke, “If you go this time without a steady heart, the heart sword forged over the last fifteen years will also perish in an instant.”
Lin Qiqi suddenly returned to her senses, realizing her fingers were buried in the wooden table, but she hadn’t even noticed.
She gave a sorrowful smile, raising her gaze to meet Lin Hangyu’s eyes and murmured, “Since it has been destroyed once, why fear a second time?”
After sitting opposite Lin Hangyu in Pavilion for three days, Lin Qiqi laughed heartily and left gracefully.
The next day, she encountered the returning Le Zhenghuan outside the capital. After the young man used his crescent sword, it broke after a hundred and thirteen moves.
By the time the black-clad guards arrived, only a bloodied Le Zhenghuan remained, and Lin Qiqi had vanished without a trace.
The emperor summoned the entire imperial hospital, and exhausted the medicinal pills supplied by the southern regions and the rare fungi and ginseng in the treasury.
Le Zhenghuan was unconscious. Every day, Jing Ye came after court to check on him, repeatedly asking, “Did his eyes move? How about the fingers?”
The palace attendants lowered their heads, not daring to speak or shake their heads.
The emperor could only sigh, looking weary and haggard. After several days, holding the memorials, he told Gu Hong, “Post an imperial decree, and announce to the world—is zhen not sitting on an entire empire?—how could zhen be unable to heal a child?”
Thus, he waited until winter arrived.
Jing Ye stood by the bed, looking at the once brilliant red-clad young man, who now appeared like a withered tree, gray and lifeless.
No one was there to say to him, “Are you bored? Let me show you my sword dance.”
The incense in the furnace burned quietly, and for the first time, he felt so weary of peace and quiet.