Upon returning to the Beiyuan Embassy, Yi Qian immediately summoned all the envoys to discuss the next countermeasures.
To get the antidote for the male and female Gu for the Young Prince, there currently seemed to be only two ways: either pressure Dongling or… humble themselves before Nanjing. The former was unrealistic.
For Dongling now, the first problem to solve was the Nanjing threat; they would rather offend Beiyuan than openly defy Nanjing’s conditions at this time. Eliminating the wrong answer left only one correct answer.
All the ministers expressed their views. “The relationship between our Beiyuan and Nanjing, if not exactly a ‘Qin-Jin relationship,’ it’s at least ‘well water does not interfere with river water.’ When we were fighting Western Xia, didn’t they still provide us with a lot of military equipment and provisions?”
“Ah, yes, yes. Decades ago, our Princess Sanghe even married into the imperial family in Nanjing’s capital for a peace treaty. Young Prince, you and Nanjing’s Crown Prince are practically relatives! In my opinion, as long as we show sincerity, negotiate properly, and offer some concessions, Nanjing might relent.”
“Your Highness, what do you think?”
At this moment, Wei Zhenfeng was sitting casually in his chair, holding a book on military strategy and looking at it listlessly, not even bothering to lift his eyelids. “Hard to say.”
Yi Qian was exasperated at the young prince’s indifferent attitude. He pleaded earnestly, “Your Highness, this matter concerns your own precious health. You must not take it lightly.”
Wei Zhenfeng turned a page of his book: “Hmm…”
The old man angrily snatched the book from the prince’s hands, only to discover that the military strategy book was a decoy—hidden behind it was another book. When he flipped to the cover, the words “Tales of Love and Romance” almost blinded him.
The officials exchanged awkward glances. Yi Qian clutched his chest, furious. “Young Prince! Didn’t you say you wanted to live a life of purity and abstinence?”
Wei Zhenfeng said, “It was me. It was me, but I also want to know…”
He wanted to know why Zhao Mian said it hurt. He hadn’t felt any pain. Zhao Mian also blamed his fever on him, even though he suggested it was cold outside and wanted to carry Zhao Mian back inside to do it. Zhao Mian himself disagreed.
Yi Qian immediately confiscated Wei Zhenfeng’s “Tales of Love and Romance” on the spot. “What do you want to know? Nothing is more important than the Gu poison in your body. This is a personal grudge you’ve brought upon yourself. You need to find a solution!”
Wei Zhenfeng smiled. “You believe him when he says it’s just a personal grudge?”
When he was still “Li Er,” Zhao Mian hadn’t tried to kill him. If Zhao Mian was willing to spare even a lowly dark-skinned man, why would he disregard the life of a fair-skinned noble?
Yi Qian was stunned, then suddenly understood.
Yes, that was the Crown Prince of Nanjing. He had had contact with the Crown Prince of Nanjin, and although he didn’t know Zhao Mian very well, he knew that Zhao Mian was definitely not someone who would disregard the bigger picture. The “personal grudge” was just a pretense; he must have a deeper intention behind his actions.
Yi Qian pondered for a moment and said, “Does Your Highness mean that the Crown Prince of Nanjing also wants to negotiate terms with us? He wants to take something from us in exchange for the antidote to the male and female Gu?”
“Hmm.” Speaking of serious matters, Wei Zhenfeng sat up straight, “And what he wants, we definitely don’t want to give. So he must devise a way to force us to give it.”
In just a few words, Yi Qian’s gaze at his own young prince shifted from anger at his lack of ambition to gratification: “Then what does Your Highness propose?”
“Tomorrow is the Winter Solstice.” Wei Zhenfeng already had a plan in mind. “Since the Crown Prince and I are both strangers in a foreign land, why not invite him at the embassy for a small gathering to celebrate the festival together?”
Before long, the invitation from the Beiyuan embassy reached Zhao Mian. The invitation was written by Wei Zhenfeng himself, and Zhao Mian saw the Young Prince of Beiyuan’s handwriting for the first time.
Elegant and unrestrained, free-spirited yet well-formed, truly, the writing reflected the person.
Because there was nothing to fault, Zhao Mian, uncharacteristically, didn’t comment, merely handing the invitation to Rong Tang and others to circulate.
After reading it, Rong Tang asked, “Is Your Highness going to the banquet?”
Zhou Huairang was not enthusiastic: “It’s the Winter Solstice, a time for family reunion. Why would we spend it with the people of Beiyuan? Are we that familiar with them?”
Rong Tang’s pale fingertips rested on the last sentence of the invitation. He coughed and said, “‘Generous gifts have been prepared, awaiting your arrival.’ Will Prince Heng’s ‘gift’ be the one Your Highness hopes for?”
Zhao Mian said, “We’ll know when we get there.”
Zhao Mian’s identity was well-known within the Beiyuan diplomatic corps. Not only did he not need to hide his identity, but he also wanted to show the Beiyuan people the proud demeanor of their great nation.
Thus, Eldest Sister Bai Yu of the Eastern Palace personally dressed and styled the Crown Prince’s hair.
A luxurious jade crown held back half of his long hair, the other half cascading down his back. The magnificent imperial yellow brocade robe was embroidered stitch by stitch by the best seamstresses from Jiangnan in Nanjing. Zhao Mian’s waist was adorned with a sachet and a jade pendant, and he wore a snow-white fox fur coat, standing proudly in the snow with an air of arrogance. A tall, silent, black-clad bodyguard with a sword held an umbrella for him, standing respectfully behind him.
The Crown Prince did not wear the dragon robe symbolizing his status, yet from head to toe, he exuded extreme refinement and nobility, leaving the Beiyuan envoys dumbfounded. Yi Qian, who was supposed to be supervising the young prince, couldn’t help but steal a few glances himself.
Only the young prince remained composed, looking at Zhao Mian no differently than he would look at an ordinary person, and said with a smile, “Your Highness’s grand attire truly brings radiance to this humble inn of mine.”
Yi Qian initially thought it was good, that the young prince had kept his word and wasn’t lured by beauty again. But then he thought, no, when everyone else was mesmerized by beauty, the young prince remained so clear-headed, which only further proved that he was deliberately acting.
Yi Qian initially thought, “Good, good, the young prince is keeping his word and hasn’t been seduced by beauty.” But then he reconsidered: Wait, that’s not right. When everyone else is captivated by his beauty, the young prince is so clear-headed. Doesn’t that further prove that he’s doing this on purpose?
“Grand?” Zhao Mian chuckled lightly. “This is merely my everyday attire. I didn’t expect it to be considered ‘grand’ in the prince’s eyes.”
This was a taunt that they, Beiyuan, had never seen the world. Wei Zhenfeng knew that now was not the time for a war of words, so he didn’t argue with Zhao Mian, but instead raised his hand in a gesture of invitation: “The banquet is ready, Your Highness, please.”
There were about a dozen high and low ranking officials in the Beiyuan delegation, mostly civil officials, but perhaps because Beiyuan governed the world with military might, from the perspective of the Nanjing people, these civil officials seemed excessively bold.
The embassy was originally the residence of an old prince from Dongling, and now it had become Beiyuan’s territory. On the Winter Solstice, the embassy was bustling with activity. Civil and military officials were indistinguishable, some were boiling wine and dancing with swords, others were roasting meat and playing touhu (pitch-pot game). Everyone was putting their arms around each other’s shoulders, talking and laughing—a scene that would never appear in the Nanjing embassy.
Marquis Anyuan, a military man through and through, had long felt stifled working alongside the aloof Grand Tutor Rong. Now immersed in this lively atmosphere, he couldn’t help but be infected by the enthusiasm. When he saw the young girl Hua Ju playing spear techniques with masterful skill, drawing thunderous applause, he finally couldn’t help but say, “They say Beiyuan’s spear techniques are peerless; everyone, man or ghost, can wield one. My hands are particularly itching today. I wonder if the young prince would like to spar with me and let this old man broaden his horizons?”
There had been no war between Beiyuan and Nanjing for a hundred years, but the unspoken rivalry between their military generals had never stopped. As long as there was an opportunity, they would spar to determine who was stronger.
Compared to Zhao Mian, Wei Zhenfeng was dressed very simply today. His long hair was tied into a high ponytail, and beneath his cloak, he wore a set of crimson fitted attire. A red tasseled spear leaned against his foot. With a casual kick, the young man sent the spear soaring into the air, catching it firmly in his hand.
Wei Zhenfeng smiled: “Please, Senior.”
Marquis Anyuan looked at Zhao Mian, and after getting his nod of approval,
let out a loud shout, drew the saber from his waist, and charged towards Wei Zhenfeng.
Marquis Anyuan seemed to aim for Wei Zhenfeng’s right side, but as he approached, the blade suddenly shifted, instead slashing towards Wei Zhenfeng’s left.
However, Wei Zhenfeng seemed to have anticipated this. He shifted his body slightly, effortlessly dodging the attack. At the same time, he gripped the spear in reverse, the spearhead stabbing towards Marquis Anyuan’s throat at an unpredictable angle.
Fortunately, Marquis Anyuan was experienced. His expression darkened, and quickly used his saber to block, barely managing to escape.
After several exchanges, Marquis Anyuan’s stamina clearly waned. Although Wei Zhenfeng had not used his full strength, the outcome was already obvious.
With his final strike, the red-tasseled spear danced towards Marquis Anyuan like a silver dragon. The old man’s vision was filled with a red afterimage. By the time he reacted, the “horse-turning spear” had already reached him.
Just as the spearhead was about to touch Marquis Anyuan’s chest, Wei Zhenfeng abruptly stopped his movement. Then, with a clean motion, he retracted the spear behind him, lowered his eyes slightly, and bowed his head. “I concede.”
Marquis Anyuan wasn’t angry about losing to a junior. Instead, he burst into laughter, his one uncovered eye filled with heroic spirit. His attitude toward Wei Zhenfeng was no longer as hostile as before: “The young prince is a young talent, and the ‘Youlong Spear’ truly lives up to its reputation. This old man is convinced of his defeat!”
At this moment, the young prince was no longer arrogant, humbly saying,
“Senior, you flatter me. I can only rely on my youth to gain a slight advantage.”
Marquis Anyuan lost heartily but also remembered not to disgrace Nanjin: “How about you, Prince, have another match with Xiao Shen? You are both young people.”
Wei Zhenfeng smiled and politely declined: “No, no, I tried before. I can’t beat him.”
Only then was Marquis Anyuan completely satisfied.
Zhao Mian retracted his gaze and said to Shen Buqi, “Let’s go look elsewhere.”
Zhao Mian’s attention was drawn by a group of minor officials enjoying themselves with touhu. He was skilled in archery, with excellent aiming skills. Touhu was merely a minor trick in his eyes. He didn’t know how those people could have so much fun playing it.
At this moment, Wei Zhenfeng, who had already wiped his sweat and changed into a loose-sleeved casual attire, found him. Seeing that he seemed to have some interest in touhu, he smiled and said, “Do you want to try? If you win, there’s a prize.”
Zhao Mian asked, “What prize?”
Wei Zhenfeng raised his chin towards the side: “See for yourself.”
Zhao Mian looked over and saw… a huge, plump, white pig’s head?
Zhao Mian frowned, highly disgusted: “I don’t want something like that.”
“Why not?” Wei Zhenfeng tried to persuade him, “Braised pork head is delicious.”
Zhao Mian suddenly had a premonition that he probably wouldn’t be eating anything delicate and delicious today.
Wei Zhenfeng accompanied Zhao Mian for a while, and Zhao Mian was certain he didn’t see anything related to “elegance.” Even when the civil officials were reciting poetry and composing couplets, they would pick up a large pig’s trotters by their side and take a bite.
…Unbearable to look at.
Zhao Mian suddenly asked, “Where are your desert dancers?”
Wei Zhenfeng was taken aback: “What dancers?”
“At the state banquet, didn’t you say that when it came to beauty, no one could compare to the dark-skinned desert dancers of your Beiyuan?” Zhao Mian said calmly, “I’d like to see them.”
Wei Zhenfeng smiled: “We can’t keep dancers in a place where serious business is done. At most, they’re kept in palaces and mansions for entertainment. I’ve already given them to my imperial father and brothers. If you’re interested, next time I’ll pick a few good ones and send them to Nanjing.”
Zhao Mian actually wanted to see how beautiful dark skin could be. “Just let me see them, no need to send them to me.”
The group gradually strolled to the backyard, which was much quieter than the front yard; it was likely where the officials’ families resided.
Zhao Mian was about to avoid the area when he suddenly heard the sound of children’s laughter. He looked in the direction of the sound and saw two little girls running around in the snow, chasing around a snowman they had built, leaving behind a trail of dainty footprints.
Their wet nurses were chasing them from behind with two small cloaks, urging them to put them on while cautioning them to run slowly and watch out for slippery ground.
Wei Zhenfeng introduced to Zhao Mian: “These are the family members of officials stationed here year-round.”
Zhao Mian was reminded of his childhood memories, and his lips curved slightly: “In the past, I would also build snowmen with my imperial father and younger brother.”
Wei Zhenfeng smiled and asked, “Then would you like to build a snowman with me?”
“No,” Zhao Mian held a golden copper hand warmer, “It’s cold.”
“So delicate,” Wei Zhenfeng laughed at him, “Are you actually not the Crown Prince, but a Nanjing princess?”
Zhao Mian frowned, unhappily retorting: “Firstly, being delicate or not has nothing to do with being male or female. Secondly, my Nanjing princesses are not delicate.”
Wei Zhenfeng asked curiously: “Do you have princesses in Nanjing now?” He had been to the Nanjing imperial palace twice, staying for ten days to half a month each time, and besides the Empress Dowager, he hadn’t seen any other female masters.
Zhao Mian looked at the two rosy-cheeked little girls, a look of regret on his face. “Not yet.” He only had a younger brother that even dogs would dislike.
His imperial father only had him and his brother as children, and his grandfather also had few descendants. Whether it was an elder princess or a younger princess, there wasn’t a single one in the Nanjing palace.
Wei Zhenfeng saw through Zhao Mian’s thoughts and deliberately showed off:
I have two fraternal twin younger sisters from my father’s other wife. They’re only six years old this year, innocent, lively, and adorable. Every time they see me, they call out “Second Brother” one after another so sweetly, melting my heart.”
Zhao Mian wasn’t provoked by this clumsy boasting.
“Just sisters,” he said nonchalantly. “I’ll have some in the future too.”
Wei Zhenfeng “pfft”ed and laughed: “If your imperial father heard that, he would definitely praise your filial piety.”
Author’s note:
Imperial Father: 6