Chapter 79: My Son Has the Bearing of a Great Emperor (5)

Although Cui Ge was puzzled as to how the letter had made its way into his hands, once he confirmed that the messenger was indeed his own elder sister, his eyes grew red at the thought of the calamity that had befallen the Cui family all those years ago. Still, he resolved to visit his sister and nephew first.

His companion was Li Bing, the Military Commissioner, now holding command of the troops. The sycophantic ministers at court, fearing that the marauding rebels would soon reach the capital, had willingly ceded power, causing Li Bing’s military strength to swell. Yet the capital remained oblivious to this shift. Cui Ge, Li Bing’s trusted confidant and protégé, was originally meant to be dispatched to the capital, to join the imperial campaign come spring.

In the story, the emperor’s expedition ended in a crushing defeat—not at the hands of the Northern Steppe army, but due to his own arrogance, which led the imperial forces to disaster, losing most of their numbers to natural calamities before even meeting the enemy.

The khan of the Northern Steppe, once anxious about surviving the storm, ended up laughing until his sides hurt, and promptly decided to lead his desert cavalry to pick up the spoils. The emperor returned in disgrace, flew into a rage, threw his general into prison, and planned another campaign.

Cui Ge, through his exceptional performance during the campaign and by saving the emperor, was kept close to the sovereign. Leveraging the emperor’s favor, he began to exact revenge upon the enemies who had struck at the Cui family years before. The more he acted thus, the more he drew the ire of the world, but the emperor was all the more delighted, for Cui Ge’s fate was now tied utterly to his own.

Cui Ge had no choice but to become a loyal servant of the emperor. Who could have predicted that, as Li Bing’s man, Cui Ge would witness the emperor—after breaking his own army in the North—turn to an easier target in the South, only to have another wave of his best soldiers wiped out by the southern plagues and heat?

Both North and South ended in debacle. Now, the emperor decided to return to the North, thinking, after all, the Northern Steppe had never truly been a match for the Great Shun. If not for a stroke of luck last time, the Steppe would have been wiped out already. This time, eager to prove his martial prowess, the emperor set out to capture and release the northern king seven times in a cycle of humiliation and mercy.

The Steppe indeed could not stand against the Great Shun, but even the strongest nation could not withstand the emperor’s games. After so many cycles, the nation’s reserves were drained dry, chaos erupted across the land, and warlords rose everywhere under the banner of ridding the world of a tyrant.

The emperor managed to flee, abandoning the capital and fleeing south—unluckily, into Li Bing’s territory. There, he demanded Li Bing come personally to pay homage, provide him with concubines and a luxurious palace for his pleasure. Li Bing feigned compliance, and the emperor, satisfied with his apparent obedience, then demanded Li Bing send his daughter to the palace as a concubine.

Thereupon, the emperor met his end—at Li Bing’s hands. Having slain the emperor, Li Bing was branded a traitor and villain, a reputation that did not trouble him. He even considered abdicating in favor of the brothers Qin Teng and Qin Man.

Had it not been for the original host—this true father—who did everything in his power to hamper the brothers, Qin Teng might well have succeeded in conquering the realm.

The south belonged to Li Bing, who had shown both the Cui family and the Qin brothers great kindness. Qin Teng’s wife was Li Bing’s daughter, Li Zhaoxue.

Given all this, the two brothers could hardly make their first move in Li Bing’s territory, even knowing he had no sons, only a dearly cherished daughter. Though the family’s wealth ultimately passed to Qin Teng, his son-in-law, they could not simply treat Li Bing’s possessions as their own.

That would be unbecoming.

Qin Ye did not move his family there either. The prefectural city at the center suited them well—a fertile land for grain, and, flanked by enemies on both sides, unlikely to attract attention in the chaos to come.

In this place, so long as they appeared to control only a city and a prefecture, no one would give them a second glance.

Qin Ye needn’t worry about a thing; even when relocating, others guided him along. He simply had to follow. As he so often said, “My son Qin Teng possesses the bearing of a great emperor.” All he needed was to wait, hands folded, for Qin Teng to unite the realm and enjoy his own time of prosperity. When his sons, Qin Teng and Qin Man, came looking for trouble, he could simply let the original host deal with them.

Life could hardly be sweeter.

There were few idle old scions in this prefectural city; most were young, but soon, among them mingled an older idler, who would randomly pick a child to join him in his mischief—be it son or daughter.

Liu Yu had much to say about this, dissatisfied with Qin Ye dragging her daughter along on his outings. Qin Ye’s retort was:

“My son possesses the bearing of a great emperor. Do you truly understand what that means? It means our Qin family is destined for greatness. So, whether son or daughter, all must be raised with equal care, so they might one day assist their elder brother in achieving great things!”

Liu Yu was speechless.

Raising them with such care, indeed—by taking them to the market to gamble on cockfights and dog races! That poor rooster—if it won, he beamed with pride and planned to stew it with precious herbs for nourishment. If it lost, he called it a useless creature, a waste of grain, and stewed it anyway. Others boiled old hens, but he insisted on stewing grand cocks.

No wonder his big black dog obeyed his every word—so many roosters had fallen before it.

Liu Yu, expecting to be shunned, soon realized the Cui family paid her little mind. Qin Ye forgot about her altogether, and only the two younger children would occasionally tease her, but always within bounds.

Thus, Liu Yu promptly turned to curry favor with Madam Cui.

Madam Cui’s greatest resentment was reserved for Qin Liu and her own husband. For her son’s sake, she maintained a facade of family harmony with her husband, but no such effort was needed with her mother-in-law, bedridden and never leaving her quarters.

Most importantly, her well-taught son now treated both his benefactress and his mother with equal indifference and ingratitude. Madam Cui need only watch and feel secretly pleased.

Now, having learned that her family had surviving kin, and with two clever, devoted children to bring her joy, Madam Cui’s spirits improved daily. Most comforting of all, the man of the house was as good as dead—never appearing to trouble her, allowing her to live in peace.

Madam Cui’s magnanimity meant she did not quarrel with Liu Yu, who, knowing which way the wind blew, quickly curbed her own ambitions and presented herself as Madam Cui’s loyal follower. At worst, Qin Teng and Qin Man would play harmless little tricks on her, but never on her two daughters.

As for her cousin, he was the same as ever—idling his days away with cockfights and dog races, forever extolling his son’s imperial bearing.

Aunt Xing was not as clever as Liu Yu. After hearing Qin Ye boast endlessly of his son’s imperial destiny, she began to think perhaps the fortune-teller had meant her own son, Wu’er. Perhaps the old master had simply misheard.

With this thought, Aunt Xing grew quite proud, strutting about like a victorious rooster.

No sooner had she started to swell with pride than her good son betrayed her, running to Qin Ye to say that his aunt spoke ill of his elder brother. Qin Ye was left speechless by this little scoundrel.

After a moment’s silence, Qin Ye announced, “My son Qin Teng has the bearing of a great emperor; my son Qin Man can’t be far behind. As for you, Qin Wu, you’re doing well enough. Build a strong bond with your two elder brothers, follow their lead. Even if you never match them in brains or brawn, it matters not—they are your own flesh and blood, and they will always look after you.”

Barely two years old and still tottering when he walked, forbidden sweets by both mothers and denied by his sisters out of filial piety, only Qin Man had ever given him a candy. For this, the little boy saw Qin Man as the best brother in the world.

So, the toddler, unsteady on his feet, came wobbling over to defend his brother and nodded solemnly.

After nodding, the child declared earnestly, “Father, Wu’er understands. So long as I cling to my brothers’ legs as tightly as they cling to yours, I’ll never run out of candy!”

Qin Ye looked at him with approval. “A teachable child indeed.”

“Then Father, if Wu’er does well, will you give Wu’er candy?”

Though the boy could hardly walk, he could ask for sweets with perfect fluency.

Qin Ye put away his smile. “Ask your second brother.”

“Oh.” The child waddled off, his little attendant trailing nervously behind, afraid he might fall.

Qin Ye clicked his tongue, put his hands behind his back, and took his big black dog out for a walk.

The dog, when seated, was nearly half a man’s height, its head bigger than a human’s, and so robust it could bite off half a head in a single snap. Yet for all its fearsome appearance, it was remarkably well-behaved, looking back every few steps to make sure Qin Ye was following. If he lagged behind, the dog would stop and wait until Qin Ye caught up before moving on again.

Everyone said Qin Ye had trained his dog well.

In truth, Qin Ye had never trained the dog at all.

Big Black Dog: Who would dare make the master do such a thing? Didn’t you see all the roosters come and go?

Qin Ye’s pockets were filled with snacks and sunflower seeds from his eldest daughter, while his eyes were fixed on the resplendent rooster that had just triumphed in the ring, chest puffed out with pride.

This drumstick, he thought, must taste incredible.

The splendid rooster shuddered and burrowed into its owner’s arms, refusing to show its head.

Its owner laughed, “My apologies, my rooster is well-raised, clever and affectionate—far too attached to people.”