Chapter 63: The Long Night

Chunyu Shan, not yet forty, was the youngest head among the five great families.

With his gentle and refined demeanor, he resembled more a scholar well-versed in literature than a family patriarch.

It was late into the night.

A concubine serving him for the first time sat on the bed, her boundaries nearly nonexistent. With bashful timidity, she murmured, “My lord, the night grows deep.”

The night was silent, all things at rest, yet mankind often began their own activities at such hours.

Chunyu Shan remained utterly motionless, as if the legendary sage Liu Xiahui had returned to life.

The concubine bit her red lips, pulling what remained of her modesty away in a final attempt.

She simply did not believe he was made of stone.

Light footsteps approached.

“My lord.”

Chunyu Shan put down his book. “What is it?”

The footsteps halted outside the door.

“My lord, just moments ago, the workshops at Yongping Lane were set ablaze. The losses are immense.”

A cold glint flashed in Chunyu Shan’s eyes as he rose and left the room.

Alas!

The concubine lay down, sighing with resentment, “What an unsatisfying predicament!”

Hoofbeats echoed along the street.

“Halt!” cried the soldiers of the Golden Guards.

“The Chunyu clan is passing! Make way!”

At the crack of a whip, the soldiers hurriedly stepped aside. Not long before, they had stopped several commoners, beaten them, and hauled them off to prison.

When they arrived at Yongping Lane, the row of workshops still smoldered, embers glimmering in the ruins. The wardens squatted nearby.

Earlier, someone had doused the fire with a bucket of water, causing it to explode into a shower of sparks. The man was burned badly, and since then, no one dared approach the blaze.

“Where is Sun Lang?” Despite the devastation, Chunyu Shan’s voice remained as gentle as ever.

Sun Lang was brought over, forced to his knees.

“Speak!” Chunyu Shan’s tone was calm.

“Just now, the workshop suddenly caught fire. I barely escaped when I encountered the thief. The thief was strong, I was no match…”

Without warning, Chunyu Shan kicked Sun Lang to the ground.

Already gravely injured, Sun Lang coughed blood from the blow. He quickly crawled back to kneel in his original spot.

“I do not blame you for the fire,” Chunyu Shan said quietly, “but I will not tolerate fools who can only make excuses.”

A guard reported, “My lord, there are traces of fire oil.”

A strategist behind him spoke, “My lord, that youth recently favored by the imperial consort… Yang Xuan.”

Chunyu Shan replied slowly, “Investigate.”

The strategist asked, “Did the thief leave any traces?”

The guard shook his head, “I only heard a young woman say… In the furnace, iron is heated with coal; both coal and charcoal are used, but where mountains and forests lack coal, smiths first select hard wood and burn it into fire-ink, whose flames burn even hotter than…”

Chunyu Shan suddenly turned, staring at a man nearby.

The man, already lost in thought, muttered, “Marvelous! This method coincides with the iron-smelting technique I’ve been studying…”

Chunyu Shan drew a deep breath. “So that’s why the boy dared destroy my family’s foundation—he’s a fellow smith. Very well!”

He extended his hand, and someone brought his horse.

Mounting, Chunyu Shan announced, “Sun Lang has failed in his duty; return him to the old estate as a guard.”

Once a captain of the guards, Sun Lang now became a mere guard. His status and income both diminished.

The irony was, Sun Lang had previously expressed a desire to return to the old estate to seek merit.

He had certainly gotten what he wished for.

Back home, Chunyu Shan strode into his bedchamber.

The concubine woke with a start.

Then came an overwhelming weight.

She was overjoyed, wishing she could drain her lord dry, if only to bear a child.

A scream pierced the night, but outside, the guards’ faces remained expressionless.

Before long, a battered woman was thrown out.

Chunyu Shan, back in bed, had already recovered his refined composure.

…

When Yang Xuan and the others returned, they bathed in turn, then crouched by the well to wash their clothes.

Yi-Niang said nothing, merely fetched a stool and sat just inside the main gate.

Footsteps sounded behind her, along with the dampness of someone fresh from bathing.

“Go to sleep,” said Cao Ying.

Yi-Niang hugged her knees, gazing at the moonlight.

“The crown princess has no children, so the concubines fight fiercely, each hoping to bear a son and secure the future heir’s position. My lord’s mother, Madam Huang, came from humble origins and was timid in the palace.”

Cao Ying stood at her side. “I remember advising His Highness—no, His Majesty—about this, but he was always lax in managing his women.”

“With no son, the crown princess became the center of contention. How could His Majesty intervene? Unless he deposed her.”

Yi-Niang smiled faintly. “After Madam Huang became pregnant, His Majesty sent me to serve her, ostensibly to protect her with my skills. That year…”

“Several people died, didn’t they?” Cao Ying recalled.

Yi-Niang nodded.

“I was the one who killed them.”

Cao Ying was struck speechless.

After a while, Yi-Niang said with a smile, “That year, I shielded Madam Huang, and all manner of overt and covert attacks came at me. The palace’s methods are cruel; you must always be on guard. Twice I was nearly poisoned, once thrown into an icy pool, and once surrounded and beaten—a sharpened stick nearly ended me in the chaos…”

If it had been me, she thought, I wouldn’t have survived.

Cao Ying shivered despite himself.

“But in the end, all those people died, and Madam Huang safely gave birth to the young lord.” Yi-Niang’s voice softened. “I don’t say this to boast, only to remind you… Tonight, the smell of smoke and fire lingers on you both. Tomorrow, anyone need only ask where there was a fire to know what you’ve done.”

Cao Ying remained silent.

Yi-Niang shook her head, “Some scents cannot be washed away—only burned.”

Cao Ying bowed in gratitude for the palace veteran’s advice.

“You should sleep early, too.”

He went off to burn the clothes.

Yi-Niang hugged her knees, shaking her head. “I’d like to gaze at the moon a while longer.”

Cao Ying departed.

Behind him, Yi-Niang hummed softly.

In the moonlight, she seemed to be soothing a child to sleep.

“Burn them?” Yang Xuan was reluctant.

“Yes.” Cao Ying explained Yi-Niang’s reasoning.

“She’s truly a palace intrigue master?” Zhuque exclaimed delightedly. “She ought to write a palace drama novel.”

Yang Xuan went to the front courtyard.

Yi-Niang hummed quietly.

“You should have told me these things earlier,” Yang Xuan said.

Had he known of Yi-Niang’s past, he would never have sent her and Cao Ying to kill for an initiation.

“My lord, do you regret not trusting your servant, making me and Cao Ying take a life for your cause?” Yi-Niang’s voice was tinged with amusement.

Yang Xuan remained silent, tacitly admitting it.

Yi-Niang sighed, “My lord, always remember: people change. Today’s loyalty may become tomorrow’s opposition. What matters is not a person’s birth, but what they seek at this moment…”

Yang Xuan bowed, accepting the lesson.

Later, as he lay in bed, Zhuque remarked, “A woman like her—she’d be a vice president in the modern world, no doubt about it!”

“Before that great upheaval, he had Yi-Niang take me to the place Yang Lue arranged, and she stayed with me until I was a year old.”

Just thinking of it, Yang Xuan knew how bloody that path had been.

Those lying in wait would intercept them, while countless loyal followers, in order to cover Yi-Niang carrying him, charged unflinchingly to their deaths.

Gradually, he drifted into sleep.

At that hour, Yi-Niang too fell into slumber.

Her dreams returned her to years past, to that same place of confinement.

In the great hall, the deposed crown prince—future Emperor Xiaojing, Li Xun—looked calmly at the guard kneeling nearby.

“Are all the nursemaids awake?”

“Yes. And the poisoner has been caught. It was…” The guard looked up. “It was Xie Liang.”

A eunuch sitting below was panic-stricken. “Xie Liang is the great scholar Your Highness recommended to His Majesty—this… Your Highness, there’s no way to clear your name.”

Li Xun gazed into the distance, expression serene. “Why clear it?”

“Your Highness!” The guard, weeping bitterly, crawled forward on his knees. “Please, Your Highness, escape…”

Suddenly, the guard lunged, his face twisted with a savage, triumphant grin.

Li Xun’s eyes remained calm as he struck out with his palm.

The deposed crown prince, who had never displayed his martial prowess, delivered a slow, measured blow.

With a crash, the guard was flung into a corner, his body curling up, his limbs broken by that single strike.

“Yang Lue!”

At his call, Yang Lue rushed in and knelt on one knee. “Your Highness, I am ready to fight by your side.”

“Did you do as I instructed?”

Yang Lue nodded, “Yes.”

Li Xun beckoned him nearer.

His expression grew distant, almost relieved, his tone gentle. “Tell my son: This world is perilous. Better to be cunning and ruthless than to be kind and good.”

He waved Yang Lue away.

Yang Lue departed.

The palace resounded with cries of joy.

After a quarter of an hour, Li Xun waved his hand. “All of you, leave.”

Soon, only one person remained in the hall.

“Bring Lady Huang and the child.”

Lady Huang entered with the child, Yi-Niang at her side.

“Your Highness.”

Li Xun gestured to Yi-Niang, who stepped forward.

“Do you remember?”

“I do, my lord.”

Li Xun smiled. “You have done well. I entrust them to you.”

Yi-Niang, flustered, replied, “I will protect the young lord at all costs.”

Li Xun nodded. “Give the child to her.”

Timid and obedient, Lady Huang handed over the baby.

“Go,” Li Xun commanded.

A palace maid approached, handing Yi-Niang a basket.

Yi-Niang placed the swaddled child inside and covered it.

Turning, she knelt. “Your servant bids farewell.”

She hurriedly left the place of confinement. Outside, a guard with a saber nodded to her. “Go quickly.”

Pressing along the wall, she moved swiftly.

Suddenly, screams erupted behind her.

“Intercept them!”

Shouts and the clash of weapons echoed, along with the roar of flames lighting up the night.

“Your Highness, your servant… bids farewell!”

Yi-Niang glanced back in haste, seeing a eunuch missing his right hand, drenched in blood, kneeling in the firelight facing the deposed crown prince’s residence.

A flash of the blade—and the eunuch’s head flew.

That night was so long.

A single tear slipped from the corner of Yi-Niang’s eye.