Chapter 207 — Determination

“Absurd!”

By the lamplight, Zhang Lihua sprang to her feet. She looked at her son behind the long desk for a moment, fingers tightening around the silk handkerchief, her tone nevertheless easing.

“The late Emperor has passed away. Though it was not by his hand, he is ultimately connected to it. If Your Majesty goes to seek him out, how will you explain it to the officials of the court?”

“This…”

Chen Jing stared at the stacks of memorials upon the dragon desk. “Does Mother know how Father Emperor came to bear enmity with Mister Lu?”

“I do not.” Zhang Lihua hesitated, then sat back down, slightly averting her gaze.

“Zhen does not know either.” Chen Jing drew a breath, pressing his hand to the desk as he stood, his eyes turning to his mother. “That day, when Zhen was still Crown Prince residing in the Eastern Palace, a demon entered my chamber at night. If not for the jade pendant Mister Lu once gifted me, Zhen would no longer be here. Whatever grievance lies between Father Emperor and Mister Lu, Zhen does not wish to pursue it now. Zhen only wishes to go in person to Qixia Mountain and invite him to come out from seclusion.”

Zhang Lihua looked at her still somewhat youthful son with difficulty and sighed. “But your father’s death is, in the end, tied to him. Now, in the north, a new Sui dynasty has risen, drilling troops and readying horses, soon to march south. Jing’er, if you leave the capital, you will surely become the subject of the officials’ censure.”

“If my Chen dynasty were to fall, what is there left to fear from their censure?!”

The young emperor grew anxious, his hand striking the table with sharp knocks as he stepped out from behind the dragon desk. “Mother, it is precisely because the northern armies have not yet marched south that Zhen must act in this way!”

The bronze lampstand flickered quietly amidst their voices. Zhang Lihua met her son’s gaze for a long moment, then turned her face aside.

“Go, then. Go. Your mother will ask your Imperial Grand-Uncle, Chen Fu, to watch over the capital. Ah… if only your father had shown such diligence toward his ministers… enough, I will say no more. In any case, take more guards with you, and go early, return early.”

The young emperor swept his dragon sleeves aside, bowed toward his mother, and performed a family salute.

“Mother, take care!”

“And you as well, Jing’er.”

After a round of earnest instructions, Zhang Lihua finally departed, accompanied by palace maids and eunuchs, to make preparations for the emperor’s journey. Chen Jing returned to the dragon desk, calming his thoughts, and gently rubbed the twin-fish jade pendant on the table—now broken into two halves.

“Mister Lu…”

The following day, the sky was still in a dim, azure haze when a side gate of the imperial city quietly opened. A mounted party of several dozen thundered along the palace road and into the streets. The southern gate of the outer city had long since received orders and opened early, allowing the group to depart.

“Hyah!” “Hyah!”

Amid sharp shouts, several dozen guards in plain attire escorted the young emperor at their center, galloping along the official road. All of them were highly skilled in martial arts within the palace, and were already well prepared before departure—knowing clearly which routes to take to reach He Valley Prefecture and Fushui County.

Yet, considering the emperor’s youth and that his body could not endure excessive strain, the lead guard ordered a halt for rest every fifty li. After two such stops, Chen Jing clenched his teeth and insisted on pressing on for eighty li before resting.

“Time is pressing—Zhen cannot afford to waste it on the road!”

With such words, the party of several dozen men and horses maintained a swift pace. They traveled in the morning, rested for an hour at noon, and continued again in the afternoon. Only when night fell did they lodge at nearby villages or temples. A journey that would normally take over ten days was completed in seven, and they arrived at the border of Fushui County, no more than four or five li from the city.

That afternoon, Chen Jing entered the county yamen, changed into a fresh set of clothes, and took along a runner familiar with the roads. Passing through the bustling, long streets, he spurred his horse and rode swiftly toward Qixia Mountain.

Beyond the county’s bounds, the rolling expanse of land rose and fell like waves, the winding mountain ridges tinged with a golden hue. The official road bustled with merchants—horse-drawn carts and donkey carts passing to and fro. In the fields on either side, it was harvest season; clusters of millet and grain were laid upon the ground by farmers. Barefoot children played along the ridges, kneading mud in their hands, laughing merrily.

It was like a paradise beyond the world, utterly untouched by the looming shadow of war.

Following this road straight ahead, crossing a small river, and passing behind several jutting hills, lay the fields of Lu Family Village. Nourished by spiritual qi in the waters, the crops there matured early and had already been harvested into each household’s granary. During this lull in farmwork, groups of grown men were either turning the soil in the fields or following Lu Pan and his eight companions up the mountains to hunt some game—Mm, bats were not eaten.

Most of the women stayed at home sewing clothes and tending to the children. At times, they would call out toward the drying ground, where a blind old man had set up a stall.

“Wang Banxia, do a reading—when will they come down the mountain today? This old lady needs to start cooking!”

A stout woman bit off the thread with her teeth and called out to the young wife who had just spoken: “How long has he even been gone? Already missing your man? At night, once the lamp’s out, isn’t that enough for you to fool around?”

The young wife flushed red at the teasing. Wang Banxia, sitting at his stall, merely smiled to himself—he quite enjoyed listening to the coarse talk of the village women, young and old alike.

‘In another day, the disciple-taking ceremony will be held. Those three youths are truly fortunate… when the time comes, this old man will also go over, light some incense, and follow along with a bow… best to form a karmic tie of incense first…’

Behind him, a dirt path led inward. In a fenced courtyard, Lu Laoshi led out his sturdy donkey. He glanced at the empty pen—his son’s donkey had run off somewhere again, leaving only the tether hanging from the wooden post.

“Liangsheng, ah, you’re not even afraid the old donkey will run off? Letting it roam all over the mountains—careful it doesn’t get eaten by wolves.”

No one answered from inside the house. Under the eaves, Li Jinhua was braiding Mingyue’s twin hanging locks of hair. She raised her face and looked at her husband.

“Liangsheng went up the western mountain with the Daoist and that fat monk—they’re not at home. Hurry and grind the beans and come back early. Don’t go wandering around with the donkey.”

Lu Laoshi looked at the tender little child in his wife’s arms and sighed.

…If only our Lu family had a child like this.

Leading the donkey, he walked out of the courtyard. Inside the house behind him, there was a soft creak as the door opened. Yuwen Tuo glanced toward the woman and Mingyue, touched the bruises on his face, and hissed in pain.

‘Raising ghosts… and even revering some demon as a master… how is this Mister Lu anything like a true expert? While they’re not here, I should leave quickly.’

He had entertained such thoughts even on the road before, but the fat monk had kept a close watch on him, leaving him no chance to slip away. Now the opportunity was perfect. Seeing the woman focused on fixing the child’s hair, he casually pushed the door open and walked out.

In a low voice, he said, “I’ll go take a walk around the village, get some air.”

Li Jinhua did not stop him, though she still offered a word of caution:

“Don’t wander up the mountains. There are many wild beasts there.”

“Got it.”

Yuwen Tuo nodded in acknowledgment and stepped out of the courtyard gate. The fist he had been clenching loosened, and his pace quickened of its own accord. Avoiding the crowded drying ground, he vaulted over a fence—like a prisoner breaking free—then swiftly slipped into the forest, heading for the dirt path ahead that would lead him all the way to the city.

“They call him some kind of expert, yet he couldn’t even see through my little scheme… I’ll return north first. Who knows how many of my Northern Zhou imperial clan are still alive…”

With such thoughts in mind, he pushed aside a patch of grass—then suddenly stopped. His hand froze, his feet halted, and his expression stiffened in shock.

Ahead, an old donkey was nibbling at the shrubs, its long ears twitching as it looked over.

Huff…

Perched atop the donkey’s head, a short, squat figure tapped a small pipe, exhaling a puff of smoke, then slowly turned its toad face.

“So—you think you can just leave after offending this old master?”

The Toad Daoist’s wide mouth opened and closed, the grin stretching so far it nearly reached the back of his head.