Chapter 90: To Be an Emperor?

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“She even asked me, too, whether my husband treated me well?”
“I said the porridge needed chicken and mushrooms, and she went off to catch a junglefowl,” Wei Shao Qianyu murmured, while Feng Jinye’s heart churned beneath its calm.

“Feng Jinye, she was good to me only because of Cangyuan. She was meant to be kind to you!” Wei Shao Qianyu was so agitated. She did not care that Mei Ji’s kindness had been misdirected; instead, she felt relieved for Feng Jinye.

“Next time I meet her, I’ll make things clear,” Wei Shao Qianyu murmured.

“There’s no need. Let her continue to treat you well,” Feng Jinye said.

Feng Jinye had always believed only Feng Qingxuan remained a relative of his, and it was Feng Qingxuan, because of her illness, who had wanted to kill Wei Shao Qianyu.
Now, in an instant, he realized that if there existed someone in this world who could be so fond of Wei Shao Qianyu because of him, then all was well.

Wei Shao Qianyu caught no flicker of surprise in his eyes and immediately understood. “You didn’t make that clear just now. You suspect Mei Ji is of the Xuanyuan family, but you’re sure she isn’t the mastermind, aren’t you?”

Feng Jinye nodded.

Wei Shao Qianyu, impatient, was becoming impossible to bear. “Feng Jinye, you’re too much! Are you in need of being taught a lesson?”

Servants of the War King Residence returned one by one. As all eyes darted between the War King and his consort, one impossible thought burst into everyone’s minds: the War King feared his wife.

Wei Shao Qianyu spoke with a trace of grievance, and Feng Jinye was at once at a loss.
She made her voice deliberately quiver and asked, half in mock outrage, “Did you just push me over to my cousin?”

Feng Jinye was startled, and suddenly remembered: at the city gate, he had indeed handed her over to Lu Liyuan.

“That was another man, and you just handed me to a stranger…!” Wei Shao Qianyu had not finished when Feng Jinye scooped her into his arms, and the rest of her sentence broke into a startled cry.

In a small bamboo grove east of the city, at the foot of a secluded hill, Mei Ji returned to her little bamboo hut through the rain, looked at the fresh bamboo shoots that had just sprung up, and stood lost in thought.
Feng Qingxuan rocked herself on a little bamboo chair, stirring medicine in uneven circles.

Yunming lay on the bed, barely breathing.
Feng Qingxuan glanced over and saw Mei Ji return; she rushed over. “Big sister, did you find any medicine to save Brother Yunming?”

Mei Ji could not bear to meet her eager eyes and shook her head.

Feng Qingxuan’s face darkened. “Then I will kill Wei Shao Qianyu. It must be she who harmed Brother Yunming.”

Mei Ji sighed. As Yunming’s poison worsened, this girl grew worse by the day, and this girl’s sickness was now even worse than the patient on the bed.

“Mianyin,” Mei Ji said softly, “tell me how Wei Shao Qianyu harmed Brother Yunming, and I’ll help you take revenge.”

“I can’t,” Feng Qingxuan said. “Only I can kill Wei Shao Qianyu.”

Mei Ji suddenly remembered the female shadow guard at Wei Shao Qianyu’s side, Dong Nuan. For now they could only wait for Wei Shao Qianyu to come.

When Mei Ji came to the eastern city, she could tell at once that the emperor was fake. The woman in Duskveil Pavilion must have found some stand-in at random, hoping to strike Wei Shao Qianyu and the War King both at once, and to lure her into saving that girl.
The more she thought it over, the more Mei Ji felt a strange comfort: at least that girl’s husband was a worthy one.

Back in the War King Residence, Wei Shao Qianyu and Feng Jinye sat in the rare quiet after the rain.
“How did you become so certain Mei Ji is from the Xuanyuan family?” Wei Shao Qianyu asked, puzzled.

Feng Jinye said gravely, “House Xuanyuan has two unspeakable arts: one is Shadow Correction, the other is Eye-Captivation.”

“Shadow Correction?” Wei Shao Qianyu asked, thinking. “That means changing one’s appearance?”

Feng Jinye nodded.
“Isn’t that just the old art of disguise? Mei Ji has that at masterful level.”
“Eye-Captivation sounds like enthrallment, perhaps similar to hypnosis…”

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Wei Shao Qianyu fell silent, thinking. If House Xuanyuan’s secret arts were nothing more than beauty alteration and hypnosis, then...
“Could you do those?” she asked.
Feng Jinye shook his head.

“If our guess about Mei Ji is not wrong, there must be another Xuanyuan person involved,” she said.
“That fake emperor in Yuedu should not have been produced by Mei Ji alone,” Wei Shao Qianyu said as she snapped a piece from a sweet and bit down hard.

“Hmm…” Feng Jinye hesitated.

The storm in Yuedu looked as if it had calmed, but in truth it was still chaos.
In the imperial court there was no longer an Empress Dowager, no Crown Prince, no sovereign of Li Yue at all.
A crowd of ministers and commanders knelt outside the War King Residence, begging the War King to step out and take command of the realm, but were told he was dining with the War Queen and had no time to receive guests.

This whole upheaval had drenched the city in storm and rain. In the end, the deepest damage fell on the Western Marquis’s house: the Crown Prince was killed, the Empress Dowager passed away, and finally even the empire’s only nephew-emperor died at the hand of the War King.

In the streets of Yuedu, everyone argued that if the War King did not ascend the throne, this storm might not end quickly.
Wei Shao Qianyu too felt a worry she could not shake off.
After long silence inside the Zhiyu Tower, she finally asked, “Do you… plan to become emperor?”

Feng Jinye gave a light laugh and, with his usual fondness, patted her head. “Qianqian, didn’t you say you preferred a carefree marquis?”

She nodded dully.
“But if you do not become emperor, could anyone accuse you of killing that fake emperor?” she asked.

Feng Jinye nodded. “They could.”

She considered this. If he took the throne, he would be even more constrained: first, no one knew how many hidden snakes were buried in court; second, every mess would fall onto his shoulders; third, all the men Feng Jinye could command were shadow guards, and against the court faction they had no chance.
In this light, it seemed Feng Jinye had never entertained that thought at all.
Wei Shao Qianyu felt relieved, not knowing that he had never wanted the throne simply because she never stirred his heart toward it.

“It says the realm cannot stand a day without a ruler,” Wei Shao Qianyu murmured.

In her heart she thought the same: if an emperor is to be fixed soon, it would be best. As seen outside the War King Residence, whenever the throne is empty, everything rolls toward that house.

She had never seen a royal bloodline so thin. No wonder each dynasty’s emperors keep harems of three thousand.
Given the current situation, the most suitable person to ascend besides Feng Jinye was, without doubt, Yunshuo, Yunming’s legitimate younger brother.

Wei Shao Qianyu knew nothing of this, but inside the Western Marquis’s household Yunshuo already hated Feng Jinye to the marrow.
The ministers debated repeatedly and finally agreed to enthrone Yunshuo as emperor, with the Marquis of the West acting as regent.

Courtiers saw matters in court settle, but they did not know that this was only the eye of the storm; peace had not truly arrived.
Yuedu gradually returned to quiet.

Yet Wei Shao Qianyu found everything growing more complicated, especially when Dong Nuan knelt outside the Zhiyu Tower to confess.
Wei Shao Qianyu could guess this was because Dong Nuan had, on her own initiative, worked with Lu Yanran to kill Banqiu.

“Stand up. No sense in kneeling,” Wei Shao Qianyu said. “Think carefully: was there anything you revealed that should not have been revealed?”

Stunned, Dong Nuan stood.
There had always been one great secret that could not truly be hidden—and it may have slipped out long ago.

No wonder Banqiu had disappeared for nearly half a year and sent no news at all. Dong Nuan and Winter Moon Tower had both yielded plenty of information to us, and now it became clear that the Empress Dowager’s understanding of the War King Residence had much of Banqiu’s doing.
Many of the female shadow guards in the War King Residence had once been selected by the Empress herself.

Wei Shao Qianyu shot a sharp glance at Dong Nuan.
She had just answered, “Too much—too much to recount. Basically, everything I know, Banqiu knows too.”

Wei Shao Qianyu knew that could not be blamed on Dong Nuan; she trusted Banqiu deeply.

“So tell me,” Wei Shao Qianyu said. “Since we returned to Yuedu, what did you and Banqiu exchange?”

“When Lord Huangfu appeared, I told her Lord Huangfu was in Yuedu, and that Lady Xuan had been confined in Duskveil Pavilion...”

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“...and that I asked her to look into Mei Ji and Mianyin’s business.”

“We said that the Twin Spirits of Mei Ji had attempted to assassinate the master.”

Wei Shao Qianyu paused—so much connected to Mei Ji, and for once everything pointed to Mei Ji’s harm to them.

“Did you ever mention the day we were abducted by Mei Ji?”

Dong Nuan nodded after a moment.
Wei Shao Qianyu frowned, wondering whether this might affect Mei Ji.

Lu Yanran arrived at the edge of the Zhiyu Tower with Lin Rui and happened to hear them speaking about Mei Ji and Mianyin.
“Were you kidnapped by Mei Ji?” Lu Yanran asked in shock, for Mei Ji could never have been a kidnapper.

Wei Shao Qianyu nodded and bent down to lift Rui into her arms. “Is little Rui all right?”

Rui nodded, blinking his wide eyes. “Auntie, Mother said Rui doesn’t have the Lin surname. Shouldn’t Rui be a Feng?”

Wei Shao Qianyu laughed softly. “Is Lin not good enough?”

“But Rui wants to be Feng!” the child said innocently.

“Hm…” Wei Shao Qianyu thought and tossed the question back to Lu Yanran. “What this aunt says doesn’t count. Mother’s word does.”

“It was you who once said, ‘Just tell him he is Feng Jinye’s son,’ and made him think he should be Feng. You’ll have to fix it,” Lu Yanran said, helpless.

Wei Shao Qianyu suddenly had a headache.
“How about this,” she proposed, “go wrestle your uncle. If you win, you keep your own surname. If you lose, you take his!”

“Fine, fine!” Rui clapped and cheered. “If uncle beats me, does he have to take my surname too?”

Wei Shao Qianyu was speechless, suddenly realizing she could not argue with a three-year-old mind.

“But… does he not... maybe have no surname?” she stammered.
She thought if Lin Yichu’s child were to say to Feng Jinye, “You win, you take my surname; I win, you take mine,” the poor child might not live long afterward.

Rui, of course, did not wait for her to finish. He skipped off toward the Listening-Wind Tower.

At the library in the Listening-Wind Tower, he peered his little head in through the doorway.
Since Feng Jinye heard the skipping, high-spirited footsteps the moment he entered, he had already frowned. When he realized it was only one child, he set down the scroll in his hand, stepped out, scooped Rui up in one sweep, and carried him to a maple in the Listening-Wind Garden.

Rui laughed out loud. “Auntie told me to wrestle with you. I won—you have to take my surname!”

Feng Jinye’s face darkened at once.
“You misunderstood. Your aunt told you to wrestle Night Eleven!” he said.

Night Eleven, hidden nearby, nearly dropped from the branch.

“But aunt said uncle,” Rui asked, tugging at his little head. “Aren’t you my uncle?”

Feng Jinye answered at once, “I am.”

“Then…” Rui had not finished.
“We haven’t finished,” Feng Jinye said, suddenly climbing up again.
“Step there,” he pointed at the hem of his robe.

Rui obeyed, placing his feet there. Feng Jinye leaned backward, and the two of them—one large, one small—tumbled from the tree together, with Rui landing neatly on top of him.
He steadied Rui and stood up, saying with a smile, “You won.”

The instant Wei Shao Qianyu entered the Listening-Wind Tower, she almost laughed herself to tears at the sight.