Chapter Fourteen: A Splendid Wedding

Xiao Tao was a little dumbfounded. Su Yunyun’s suggestion was simply terrible, and who would have thought that her mistress, swept up in the commotion, actually agreed to such a harebrained idea? This wasn’t just a trivial matter of marriage—this concerned life and death itself. It wasn’t some childish game of make-believe. The two of them were completely out of their minds!

If she truly did as her cousin suggested, Xiao Tao couldn’t even begin to imagine the consequences. The mere thought of them made her certain her mistress had lost all reason. Yet, to be forced to marry a depraved prince, not knowing what torture awaited—if it were herself, she, too, would be on the verge of collapse.

Tie Wula drove the carriage with mounting excitement at the thought of dragging Young Master Li, bound behind the carriage, all the way to the Prime Minister’s residence for all to see. The Prime Minister was a zealous supporter of the Prince’s marriage, even more eager than the Prince himself. Who knew what schemes he was plotting?

The Prince, generous as ever, had even graced the Prime Minister with a lecture on the failings of fatherhood. When the Prime Minister, wearing an expression as if he’d swallowed a fly, dragged his son—forced to run like a dying dog—into the estate, Tie Wula thought a cup of wine would have made the moment perfect.

No sooner had Young Master Li stepped inside than his father unleashed a torrent of scolding. Amid snot, tears, and wailing, the Prime Minister’s voice sank to a sinister whisper: “Let him swagger for now. When the wedding comes, we’ll see who has the last laugh. If anything happens to the bride this time…”

On the way back to the Prince’s mansion, Tie Wula said to the Prince, “Master, I could tell the Prime Minister was holding a grudge. Do you think he’ll try to trip us up? Should we deal with him in advance?”

Inside the carriage, the Prince’s eyes flashed with a cold light. Even a rough man like Tie Wula could sense the Prime Minister was up to something—how could he not be aware? The intelligence network he controlled, the Cloud Sky Alliance, possessed the most comprehensive information on the entire Yunfeng Continent.

The Yunfeng Continent had five great nations: Eastern Chu, where he resided, as well as Western Wei, Southern Man, Central Dong, and Northern Kang. Large or small, there was little on which the Prince could not obtain intelligence, should he desire it.

Prime Minister Li belonged to the faction of the Prince’s second brother, Baili Hai, now the Emperor. If not for Li’s constant maneuvering, Baili Hai would not have issued the decree for the Prince to marry General Liu’s daughter, and with such haste—no later than three days.

Baili Xian knew exactly what they were plotting. Liu Rufeng, after years of campaigning at the front, had only recently returned to the capital following stability at the borders. With military power in his grasp, he was the target of every major faction’s efforts to win over.

In the golden-hued imperial hall, atop the dragon throne, sat a man of stern and cold countenance—Baili Hai, monarch of Eastern Chu. With the dragon crown upon his head and clad in imperial robes, he pressed his hand to his brow, brooding over the tangled affairs of recent days.

Though emperor, Baili Hai insisted upon having absolute control over both power and influence. He could not tolerate any destabilizing elements during his reign. His third brother, Baili Xian, outwardly appeared utterly incompetent, but Baili Hai knew well that when the late emperor died, the throne nearly passed to Baili Xian instead.

Had he not resorted to certain tactics, who knew who would be emperor today? Most importantly, each emperor inherited a mysterious power, but upon his ascension, Baili Hai had found not a trace of it. He suspected the late emperor had secretly entrusted that power to Baili Xian.

If Baili Xian were to marry Liu Ling’er, and if Liu Ling’er were to die on her wedding night, then Liu Rufeng, who had only a daughter, would never pledge allegiance to Baili Xian. As for swearing Liu Rufeng’s fealty to himself, Baili Hai had his ways.

Liu Ling’er was oblivious; she had unwittingly become a piece in others’ struggle for power. And as tomorrow dawned, many had already arranged for her a grand and splendid wedding.

But this wedding, the envy of all, the title of Princess Consort—who could say whether it would not, in the end, become her grand funeral?