Chapter 86: My Child Bears the Bearing of a Great Emperor (12)

The young emperor had been used as a token of allegiance and delivered into the hands of the Qin brothers, so Xu Yinglan, as Empress Dowager, managed to preserve her life. Compared to the many who were displaced and destitute in the chaos of the times, her ending was not so terrible after all.

But everything suffers in comparison.

When set against her younger half-sister, whom she had pushed to marry Wen Baiyu, Xu Yinglan was like a stray dog. Xu, as the principal wife formally wedded to the lord, was honored as the mistress by all his followers; should the lord succeed, she would hold the status of Empress, revered by all. Those whom Xu Yinglan once looked down upon now had nobler status than she did, and she was forced to kneel to them. Such a reversal in fortune was unbearable.

What tormented her even more was the knowledge that this marriage was meant for her; it was only because she refused and gave it to her half-sister that the latter now basked in glory. The thought gnawed at Xu Yinglan, leaving her sleepless and unable to eat, her heart steeped in regret.

When the realm was unified and Wen Baiyu ascended the throne, founding the Great Qian dynasty, Xu appeared in full imperial regalia, loftily receiving the homage of the masses—Xu Yinglan among them. The sight overwhelmed her, and when she regained consciousness, she found herself once again a carefree girl.

Though the timing was awkward, for she was frequently picking quarrels with Wen Baiyu, who lived under their family’s roof, she now had another chance. In those days, she was spoiled by her father and protected by her mother, with a younger brother who doted on her as well. She did as she pleased; no one could restrain her, not even when she targeted Wen Baiyu. But now, wracked with regret after her rebirth, she hurried to bring him the finest medicine, only to discover her half-sister had already tended to him.

Xu Yinglan nearly choked with fury, immediately seeking out her half-sister to warn her away from Wen Baiyu, then turning back to curry favor with him herself. Alas, Wen Baiyu always responded to her overtures with a calm, indifferent air. Fortunately, Xu Yinglan was persistent and shameless enough to continue, attributing her change of heart to accepting her fate—after all, Wen Baiyu was to be her husband one day.

Meanwhile, the Emperor of Dashun returned from his third campaign, thoroughly disappointing everyone. He played a game of capture-and-release with the King of the Northern Steppes, convinced of his own brilliance and destiny as the chosen ruler, believing that without him, the world would be lost in darkness.

The King of the Northern Steppes, on the other hand, thought Dashun must be a marvelous place if such a fool could be emperor. Captured and released several times, he quickly grasped the emperor’s mentality. He then led a small band of fearless warriors—three hundred against thirty thousand—achieving stunning victories before being captured again. But it mattered little; as long as he praised the emperor’s wisdom and professed surrender, he would be released, only to attack Dashun’s troops once more. Win or lose, he was always at an advantage.

After being captured and released thrice, even the King of the Northern Steppes began to fear he might run out of chances. He considered fleeing, but with Dashun’s army pressing in, he had no choice but to fight. The bitter, harsh lands of the north were no match for Dashun, and when he was captured yet again, he surrendered instantly, and the emperor once more let him go.

The royal court of the Northern Steppes was left speechless.

What a fool!

After the seventh round of this capture-and-release game, the king no longer rebelled. The Dashun emperor believed he had achieved total submission, but the truth was that the northern armies had simply been exhausted and could fight no more. The king could not continue without the support of all the steppe tribes. Had the emperor not been such a fool, the war would have ended long ago—any other ruler would have shattered the north after so many captures.

The emperor’s pride was his alone to savor. Meanwhile, the crown prince, who had accompanied the campaign, became gravely ill—this time, it was not a matter of will but of failing health beyond the reach of medicine. On his deathbed, the crown prince begged the emperor not to embroil his children in the struggle for the throne. The emperor was furious—did his son believe him capable of using his own grandchildren as stepping stones?

Their final meeting ended in acrimony, and soon the Eastern Palace was draped in mourning: the crown prince was dead. The emperor felt little grief, having long been weary of his son’s constant admonishments. Yet he could never truly act on his whims, for the prince was his own son, his own appointed heir. Now that he was gone, it was just as well.

Soon, the ministers pressed for the appointment of a new crown prince. With Prince Qi being the only one near adulthood, he was the obvious choice.

Previously, old Xu had fallen afoul of Qin Ye, but he managed to appease Cui Ge in time, who let the matter rest. Even so, Xu had grown weary of his wretched state. For all three of the emperor’s campaigns, he had been left behind—not as a trusted minister like Pei Shaoping, but as a mere afterthought.

He recalled his daughter’s ambition to enter the palace and began to plot marrying her to Prince Qi. After all, most capable officials had either been executed by the emperor or were too talentless to be favored—like Xu himself. Others, disillusioned with the regime, had resigned. Xu believed he could outmaneuver these rivals and see his daughter wed to the prince.

But when he raised the matter at home, Xu Yinglan objected at once. “No, I won’t do it.”

“Clearly, I’ve spoiled you too much,” he grumbled.

To ensure Cui Ge would not hold his offense against Qin Ye against him, Xu had paid dearly, giving away much of his wealth to secure Cui Ge’s approval. Cui, for his part, did not wish to appear as a one-way beast of fortune; he needed the funds to raise troops for his nephew, after all. The emperor’s neglect of his own forces provided Cui Ge with an opportunity to win loyalty, but it all required money. Fortunately, the Cui clan’s business ventures at the rear could cover expenses and lighten his burden. In a matter as momentous as rebellion, no amount of investment was too great. Cui’s nephew was destined to offend the great clans and have the world as his enemy—the broader his base, the better.

Xu’s financial losses continued to rankle him.

He was a timid man by nature, not daring to line his pockets recklessly, and every coin earned was hard-won—now all was gone, squandered because of his daughter’s willfulness. From then on, Xu resolved never again to indulge Xu Yinglan so freely.

“What are you shouting for? If you want to act like a tyrant, do it at court, not at home! Does bullying your own children satisfy you?” Madam Xu’s voice was even louder than her husband’s.

Xu sighed. “What do you know? If you keep spoiling her now, do you think you can continue after she’s married?”

Madam Xu fell silent at that, for he had a point.

Xu Yinglan frowned. “Father, you serve in court and know best of all that with His Majesty’s temperament, even if Prince Qi is made crown prince, will his fate truly be any better than that of the late Prince Dunhui?”

Xu was surprised that his pampered daughter could say something so insightful and began to take her words seriously.

“Speak your mind—only family is present, and nothing will leave this room.”

Xu was not especially cunning, just naturally cautious. The Dashun emperor was notoriously sly, always fearing that others spoke ill of him behind his back, so he placed spies in every official’s household. He did, in fact, once catch a minister complaining and made a public example of him. Ever since, even the greenest officials learned to be wary, always mindful of eavesdroppers.

Xu Yinglan lowered her voice. “My view is that the world is on the verge of great change. If our family wishes to seize this opportunity, it would be wise to seek another path.”

Though the emperor was infamous for his scheming and many believed him impossible to serve, almost no one thought Dashun would fall—after all, the previous emperor had laid such a strong foundation that his successor could squander it for years. But even the sturdiest foundation could not withstand such waste forever.

Most importantly, this was only the second emperor since Dashun’s founding; there was no reason to think the dynasty would end so soon.

Xu had never considered this, but his daughter’s words sent a cold sweat down his back. He immediately rose to check all around, making sure no one was listening, before returning to his seat.

“Where did you hear this?” he asked, frowning.

“I deduced it myself.”

Xu paced, restless, while Madam Xu wisely held her tongue, knowing she was out of her depth.

At last, Xu sat down again. “Then what would you have our family do?”

If upheaval was truly coming, Xu’s first thought was to align with someone commanding a strong army—someone like Cui Ge.

The Cui family had long been a military clan, well-connected within the army. Cui Ge, favored by the emperor, could always bring a smile to His Majesty’s face, while the other ministers trembled in fear of incurring royal wrath. Perhaps the secret lay in having a brother-in-law as useless as the emperor himself.

Qin Ye would often say, “When my son achieves greatness, I’ll get to enjoy being emperor myself,” and with this, he cleverly explained the emperor’s mindset to Cui Ge, who, following his advice, quickly became the new favorite at court.

The emperor even considered marrying his daughter to Cui Ge, but fortunately Cui Ge found his own match in time, wedding the sister of Li Bing’s comrade.