The flooring had been brought from the Dian Kingdom in the far south.
The ink-black marble was smooth and lustrous, with faint patterns like mountains and rivers. When the chopsticks struck the floor, the sound was crisp and pleasant, drawing Zhao Zheng’s gaze.
Su Yu’s report came to an abrupt halt. Though he did not dare raise his head to look at the queen, a puzzled expression still appeared on his face.
Every movement of the royal family was governed by ritual propriety. It was rare for chopsticks to fall during a meal.
Zhao Zheng glanced sideways and saw Jiang He holding a roasted lamb leg in her left hand.
She seemed not to have heard their conversation at all. Her brows were slightly furrowed as she studied the lamb leg, considering where to take the first bite.
Noticing Zhao Zheng’s gaze, Jiang He said somewhat displeased, “The lamb leg is too heavy. I can’t pick it up.”
So she had been trying to pick up a lamb leg with chopsticks?
Had he married a Taotie?
A trace of a smile passed over Zhao Zheng’s lips as he looked at Zong Jun, who was waiting behind Jiang He.
The sight of the queen grabbing a lamb leg barehanded had clearly left the attendant dumbstruck. Zong Jun stood there in a daze, his mouth slightly open, at a loss.
Only when Zhao Zheng looked over did Zong Jun recover his usual expression. Lowering his head, he stepped forward respectfully and said, “Please allow this servant to remove the bones for the queen.”
“No need.” Jiang He gripped the lamb leg and stood, then walked outside. “His Majesty is discussing important matters. This concubine may as well go out and enjoy the breeze.”
Slash-and-burn fields, lamb roasted in the open wilds.
Jiang He understood cooking, and naturally knew that roasted meat had to be eaten outdoors to bring out its rustic charm and distinctive flavor.
The State of Yong was close to the north and did not care too much for cumbersome formalities.
Zhao Zheng did not stop her.
Jiang He passed Su Yu, who was kneeling with his head lowered, walked out of the great hall, and came to the steps where she had read the letter that day.
Tree shadows lay mottled over the ground. She sat casually beside the tall osmanthus tree and took a bite of the lamb.
The lamb leg had been roasted until the skin was crisp, the meat tender, fragrant, and delicious.
Jiang He chewed slowly, but did not swallow.
Wei Ji, the prince of Wei, had been pursued by assassins and vanished without a trace!
Had he come to Yong?
Where was he now?
Jiang He suddenly shook her head hard, swallowed that mouthful of meat, but did not eat again.
The lamb had gone cold.
Her hand clenched around the lamb bone as she raised her head to look at the sky.
A wind had risen around her. Drifting clouds rolled across the ninth heaven and swept eastward, as though chasing after something.
A few leaves fell from the osmanthus tree, spinning as they too drifted east.
Only she was trapped where she stood. At the moment his life was in danger, her heart burned with anxiety, yet she was powerless to help.
Nothing would happen.
Jiang He comforted herself.
A person like him would be fine.
At first, when the assassins suddenly stormed into the encampment, the envoys of Wei had indeed been caught off guard.
But very quickly, among the retainers accompanying Wei Ji, there were swordsmanship masters who stopped the assassins.
In the end, all the assassins were killed. When the dead were counted, it was discovered that three envoys had died of severe wounds.
The envoys and retainers went to Wei Ji’s tent to report, only to find that Wei Ji was gone.
The bedding looked as though it had been lifted while he was sleeping. A roll of bamboo slips lay open on the low table, and there were no signs of a struggle.
An attempted assassination of a prince was a grave matter. The Wei diplomatic mission immediately dispatched men to report the matter to Yong’s capital at full speed.
Fortunately, they were already very close to the capital. As host, Yong at once sent the commandant troops responsible for the security of the capital region to escort the Wei mission.
Only Wei Ji still remained without any news.
The State of Han was closest to Yong. Thus, while the Wei mission was still setting up camp by the Wei River, the Han mission had already settled into the guesthouse in Yong’s capital, Xianyang, making merry with music and song every night.
Unlike the missions of other states, which were mostly led by royal princes, the Han mission had been brought personally by the ruler of Han, Han An.
This was because the former king of Han had already ceded land and presented his seal to Yong, requesting to become a vassal state.
After Han An succeeded the throne, he became even more deferential toward Yong, fearing that a single thought from Yong’s ruler would send armies to destroy Han.
Some days ago, when the ruler of Yong was newly wed, the royal clan of Han had presented him with treasures amounting to nearly half their national treasury. Now that the grand post-wedding sacrifice was approaching, Han An had again been the first to hurry here.
To draw closer to Yong’s royal house, Han An wore dark blue robes today, with a brocade belt adorned with jade pendants at his waist. Even when he spoke, his accent was mixed with a half-learned Yong dialect.
He knelt before the bronze chimes, holding a wooden mallet and striking them lightly. The melody was gentle and lingering, drawing applause and praise from the guests.
When the tune ended, a trusted guard approached Han An and whispered an urgent report into his ear.
Han An’s face instantly turned deathly pale.
“How did he get in?”
After saying this, before the guard could answer, the ruler of Han, Han An, shook his head and said, “In this world, I’m afraid there is nowhere he cannot go.”
Han An slowly rose, nodded farewell to his guests, then turned and walked toward the rear hall.
There knelt a young prince.
His face was as fine as carved jade, his eyes like bright stars. Along the edges of his snow-white robes were embroidered undulating stalks of dark-gold grain, and around the crossed collar were talismanic patterns of rivers flowing through the State of Wei.
He sat there with easy composure, making the hall seem not like the temporary lodging of the ruler of Han, but the residence of this prince of Wei.
“Prince Wei, I trust you have been well since we last met?”
Han An stepped forward with a false smile.
The visitor was none other than Wei Ji.
Taking advantage of the chaos brought by the assassins, he had left the diplomatic mission and gone alone to Yong’s capital.
Some matters were best clarified sooner, lest they implicate unrelated people.
Wei Ji rose and saluted Han An, smiling as he said, “The assassins Your Majesty sent were merciful. They did not do anything to this prince. Thus, for the time being, I am well.”
He went straight to the point without the slightest attempt at probing, directly naming Han’s dispatch of assassins.
The smile hanging on Han An’s face froze. The corners of his stretched lips awkwardly drew back, and he snorted. “What assassins? Prince, you slander me. Do you have evidence?”
Wei Ji shook his head. In his clear eyes, it was as though meteors were streaking past, dazzling enough that one dared not look directly at them.
“Those assassins left survivors. It will not be difficult to get answers from them. But I came here to tell Your Majesty that you sent assassins to attack the Wei mission only to shift the blame onto Yong, incite Yong and Wei into war, and thus preserve Han from destruction. The plan is not bad. This prince wishes to know who came up with it.”
Han An took a few embarrassed steps forward, then sank down to kneel despondently.
Facing this young man, it was as though the thoughts of a ruler of a state were written plainly on his own face, to be seen through entirely.
Wei Ji spoke with calm restraint, without the slightest hint of coercion, yet still Han An’s underclothes were soaked through with sweat, his expression uneasy and terrified.
What he most feared was being seen through—and the one seeing through him was the prince of Wei, who had the most retainers among the seven states, who appeared gentle and warm, yet excelled at defeating enemies through open schemes.
Han An forced himself to steady his mind. He lifted the tea cup from the table and drained it, then touched the jade pendant at his waist. As he knelt, his weight shifted back and forth, as if neither his hands nor his feet knew where to go.
At last, Han An glared at Wei Ji and said with outward ferocity but inward weakness, “So what if you know who came up with the idea? In the end, I gave the order. Now that you are trapped in my guesthouse, whether you live or die is still for me to decide, is it not?”
As soon as he finished speaking, movement stirred outside the window. A squad of guards appeared, crossbows in hand, strings drawn and aimed at Han An.
“You dare…”
Han An was horrified.
These guards were clearly wearing Han clothing. They had clearly always been the ones protecting him. How had they become Wei Ji’s men in the blink of an eye?
The white-robed prince calmly lifted his tea cup, took a light sip, then raised his eyes to look at Han An and gently waved his hand outward.
The crossbowmen immediately withdrew, disciplined and orderly, obeying the command as soon as it was given.
“Who came up with the plan to assassinate the Wei mission?” Wei Ji asked again.
The ruler of Han’s heart had clearly already collapsed. He hesitated, and finally spoke a name.
“This prince has two excellent strategies. Your Majesty may choose either one in exchange for this person’s life. How about it?”
Wei Ji smiled at Han An. A peach-blossom flush rose over his originally fair face, and that instant of peerless beauty made even Han An, who loved beauty more than life itself, feel his heart stir. For a moment, he almost thought he had mistaken him for an immortal.
Only after a long while did he come back to himself and ask, “What excellent strategies?”
Wei Ji gently set down the tea cup and smiled. “One strategy can make the ruler and ministers of Yong grow suspicious of one another, leading Zhao Zheng to depose Chancellor Wei and kill hundreds of worthy ministers and loyal officials, gravely damaging Yong’s vitality. The other can leave Yong with no soldiers to deploy and no people to conscript, preventing it from sending troops against Han for several years, temporarily preserving Han’s fate.”
Han An’s eyes widened, and so did his mouth.
Such a thing was possible?
One strategy to wound Yong, one strategy to preserve Han.
For anyone to devise even one such brilliant strategy would already be astonishing, yet Wei Ji casually had two ready for use.
He did not need to suspect Wei Ji of making empty boasts.
For the reason Wei had remained safe and sound while surrounded by the six states was precisely because Wei Ji was there.
A young prince bearing the fate of a state upon his shoulders.
Han An straightened his body. His restless hands rubbed against each other. He had not expected such a tremendous benefit to fall upon his head.
Ancestors! Han could be preserved!
“Men!” he called for the guards to come, then loudly spoke a name and issued his order. “Kill him. Put his head in a wooden box and bring it in, as an apology to Prince Wei.”
An apology to Prince Wei, in exchange for one brilliant strategy.
No one’s life could be heavier than the lives of the million people of Han, not even that of a close minister.
Wei Ji lowered his head to look at the edge of his robe. His fingers brushed over the embroidered stalks of grain, then clenched tightly.
Xiao He, you didn’t expect this, did you? Now I, too, have become such a ruthless person.
The seven states must maintain a balance before the common people can be spared the suffering of war and have a place to live.
Weapons rusting, wars at rest—this, too, was your dream.
Only, where are you?
Every inch of this great Yong capital, I will search it all. I will find you and bring you back to Luoyang.
There, no one will dare harm you anymore. You have me.
Xiao He, I miss you so much.
A moment later, the ruler of Han, Han An, made his choice.
Between the two excellent strategies, he chose the more vicious one.