Chapter 20

Chapter 20

The journey from the palace to the stone Buddha’s location would take no more than an hour by fast horse, but their grand procession of several hundred people moved slowly, leisurely making their way until they arrived in the early afternoon.

When they were still about two miles from the temple, Fu Ye caught sight of the stone statue.

It stood in the middle of a dilapidated ancient temple called the Temple of Auspicious Connections, built on a high slope. The towering statue was visible from miles away, far larger than he had imagined.

The more massive the divine image, the more awe it inspired in believers. Yet a stone statue of this size must have cost a fortune. Whoever was behind this had clearly invested heavily in making such a grand statement.

The area lay at the border between two cities, devoid of civilian households, surrounded by wilderness and withered grass—a rural backwater. Yet noble carriages and horses crowded the roads, and pilgrims stretched for miles. Looking back, Fu Ye saw the imperial yellow canopy shielding the Empress Dowager’s phoenix-painted carriage, surrounded by palace guards in ceremonial formation. Behind them were the carriages of various nobles, their embroidered curtains dazzling in the rustic setting, as if celestial beings had descended upon the land.

A truly immersive spectacle of imperial majesty.

Local officials had already pitched tents in the open fields outside the temple, kneeling in welcome. Fu Ye accompanied the Empress Dowager and the Emperor as they alighted from their carriages, first accepting the obeisances of officials and commoners before retiring to the tents to wash and rest.

Too impatient to wait, Fu Ye was eager to enter the temple first.

Fu Huang, however, showed no interest in visiting the temple and ordered Li Dun to escort him instead. Standing before the grand tent, Fu Huang watched as Fu Ye, surrounded by attendants, made his way toward the temple. The wind in the open fields was strong, rustling his crimson robe and the golden belt at his narrow waist. His golden crown gleamed, and with the black-armored guards around him, he exuded the commanding presence expected of a prince.

It suited him to carry himself with more authority—he was usually far too approachable.

Eunuch Qin offered Fu Huang a warm towel, who wiped his hands. Suddenly, he noticed the gazes of men and women along the road, all fixed on Fu Ye—some curious, others fervent. Young ladies hid their flushed cheeks behind round silk fans, while several young men boldly followed after him.

Once inside the temple, Fu Ye found it cleared of visitors, with only a few elderly monks kneeling in greeting. The statue had been scrubbed clean, gilded, and wrapped in yellow silk, though traces of mud remained at its base, suggesting genuine antiquity.

Fu Ye circled the statue once, looking up. The Buddha’s solemn face gazed downward, its glossy eyes uncannily lifelike, as if watching him through the incense haze.

Soon after, the Empress Dowager and her retinue arrived outside the temple.

Fu Ye helped her inside himself, glancing back toward the grand tent where Fu Huang remained.

As expected, Fu Huang had no interest in worshiping.

The Empress Dowager, the Grand Dowager, and the rest of the entourage entered the temple. After handing incense to the Empress Dowager, Fu Ye also made his own offering, followed by the rest of the noblewomen. Once the offerings were made, the Empress Dowager knelt on a lotus-shaped cushion to pray.

Monks struck bells and chanted sutras as incense smoke billowed. Many nobles tossed gold foil and silver paper into the bronze censer beneath the statue, filling the air with swirling heat and fervent energy.

When the prayers concluded, Fu Ye was the first to rise, supported by Shuang Fu. But suddenly, Shuang Fu staggered back in shock, his face paling. A cry rose from the crowd: "Look at the Buddha’s eyes!"

Fu Ye whirled around—two trails of blood-like tears were flowing from the statue’s eye sockets.

!!

The Empress Dowager, startled, collapsed onto her cushion, steadied by Palace Matron Sun. In an instant, the entire temple burst into panic as nobles and officials gaped upward. Someone shouted, "The statue has come to life!"

Immediately, the crowd fell to their knees in fear.

Fu Ye was too stunned to speak, the heat and incense smoke pressing in around him.

As the statue wept, the crowd descended into chaos. Even the onlookers outside grew agitated, trying to push into the hall to witness the spectacle, only to be held back by guards. Voices in the crowd cried, "The statue is alive!"

The commoners outside the temple knelt in waves.

Yet at that moment, Fu Ye trembled, body and soul. He looked up at the statue, its blood-red tears streaking the yellow silk shrouding it—bright as blood. The eyes now looked grotesque and terrifying.

The entire temple knelt—even Shuang Fu and the others beside him—leaving Fu Ye alone standing beneath the statue. Crows cawed as they circled the ancient locust trees beside the temple. Amid that eerie spectacle, even he, a man from modern times, was overcome with dread.

Xiao Ai: "Holy shit, what’s happening?!"

The Empress Dowager and others all took it as a divine sign, burning incense and bowing again. Not to mention the rest of the crowd, who all pushed and shoved to kneel in worship. Those inside were reluctant to leave, while those outside strained to get in. The miraculous sight made the common folk forget worldly authority, jostling the guards and raising a clamor.

Fu Ye stayed by the Empress Dowager's side, watching the near-hysterical crowd with growing unease. He had initially thought the stone statue might have been merely washed out from the river valley by chance, but now it seemed almost certain to be a setup.

But what was the purpose of creating such an anomaly?

To fabricate a deity and amass wealth?

Or something else?

The surrounding crowd buzzed with theories.

"The statue shed tears when the Empress Dowager came to worship—what’s it trying to tell us?"

"Tears of blood—this must be a bad sign!"

"Didn't Emperor Shengzu himself was born in the Buddhist grove? They say a white fox knelt in reverence at his birth..."

The conspiracy seemed on the verge of surfacing.

Many ancient emperors had legendary origin stories, and now someone was following the same playbook, clearly targeting the Fu Dynasty.

He stared at the statue crying blood when a voice announced from outside: "His Majesty has arrived!"

Turning, he saw Fu Huang enter the temple under the gaze of the crowd.

Fu Huang stood stone-faced, hands behind his back, looking up at the statue as if weary and fed up with this so-called divine manifestation.

A devout official trembled and whispered, "Your Majesty, the statue has shown its power..."

Fu Huang turned slightly and said softly, "Tear this thing down."

"??!"

"Your Majesty, you can’t!"

"The statue has shown its power—don’t anger the gods!"

Fu Huang seemed to have long lost patience for such tricks. He turned: "Li Dun!"

Li Dun waved, and the Black Armor Guards moved in as one.

Fu Huang's face turned thunderous.

He had finally left the palace, just wanting to take a walk with Fu Ye, only to encounter such absurdity.

For a moment, everyone in the temple shook like leaves. Empress Dowager Zhang intervened, "Emperor!"

Dowager Zhang, an extremely devout woman, almost passed out in terror.

With a loud "thud," the Black Armor Guards toppled the statue together, knocking over the incense burner and sending ashes flying.

The crowd was too stunned to speak, many prostrating on the ground, fearing divine wrath. The tension reached its peak when Fu Ye suddenly lunged forward, planting his foot on the toppled statue.

Empress Dowager Zhang cried out, "Fu Ye!"

Her voice was no longer just angry—it was filled with terror.

All looked up to see the wind whipping Fu Ye's robes, his golden boots stained with mud and ash as he climbed the statue. His pale, slender hand reached out like he was wiping away its tears.

Fu Ye touched something warm, brought it to his nose, then turned to Fu Huang and said, "Brother, it's wax!"

Eunuch Qin scrambled up after him, wiping a finger across the "teardrops" on the yellow drapery.

Fu Ye felt his blood boiling as he stood atop the stone statue. "Who's behind this wax trick to fool everyone? Black Armor Guards, arrest all the officials of Dingzhou and the monks in this temple!"

The Black Armor Guards moved swiftly, dispersing to apprehend the suspects. Those kneeling in the temple gradually rose to their feet, staring at Fu Ye in shock.

Fu Ye jumped down from the statue and saw Fu Huang gazing at him. "Brother, this is no divine manifestation—someone's faking miracles."

Fu Huang grasped his hand, glancing at the wax smeared on his fingers, now stained red, likely mixed with something else. It reminded him of that shocking red from the New Year's Eve banquet.

People back then feared the gods, and this statue had been built up as so miraculous that they mistook the wax for divine tears, too awed to dare inspect it closely. Whoever planned this was clever.

Had this "miracle" occurred on an ordinary day, it might have tricked people. But timing it for the palace visit clearly targeted them.

The Black Armor Guards rounded up everyone involved and brought them to Fu Huang's tent.

The local officials and monks shook like leaves.

Fu Ye stood solemnly beside Fu Huang, taking part in the interrogation.

Yet, the officials and monks bawled their eyes out, denying any involvement, while the craftsmen who had gilded the statue had long vanished.

Fu Huang had them all locked up.

The sensational stone statue incident turned out to be a plot. The excitement of the crowd upon arrival turned to silence on their return.

Their journey back took much longer than expected. Dusk fell, leaving everything bleak, the spring scenery now lifeless and dreary.

The carriage curtains were drawn. Eunuch Qin lit a lamp and carefully placed it on the table.

The Emperor seemed in a terrible mood.

His Highness Prince Huan had been summoned by the Empress Dowager and had yet to return. Eunuch Qin murmured quietly, "Thankfully, Prince Huan was here today and swiftly exposed the plotters' scheme. When he climbed aboard the statue, it scared this old man half to death."

Had Fu Ye not been present, they might still have uncovered the truth through careful investigation. But none expected him to move so fast and fearless. It made him proud.

He was certain the Emperor must also be pleased with Prince Huan's actions.

"Before, I only thought Prince Huan frail, but in that moment, he was every bit Your Majesty's brother—acting with the same resolve."

The imperial carriage slowed as an Inner Official outside announced, "His Highness Prince Huan has arrived."

Eunuch Qin peeled back the curtain, and the carriage halted. Fu Ye climbed aboard.

"Your Highness."

Fu Ye nodded. "It's dark. The Empress Dowager suggests staying overnight at Lihua Palace for safety."

Fu Huang turned to Eunuch Qin. "See to it."

Eunuch Qin acknowledged and went to prepare.

Fu Ye studied Fu Huang in the candlelight.

Fu Huang just held his gaze.

"Imperial Brother, why are you looking at me like that?" Fu Ye asked.

Fu Huang beckoned.

He then sat down beside him.

His robes were somewhat soiled, likely stained with incense ash and mud. Normally, he was fastidious about cleanliness and appearance, but now it seemed as though he had just weathered a fierce battle.

"You always seem so delicate, yet today you were surprisingly nimble."

"Is Imperial Brother praising me?" Fu Ye said with a smile. "Where Brother leads, I follow."

Once again, he was quick with honeyed words, but Fu Huang remained silent, instead reaching out to brush his fingers lightly against Fu Ye’s cheek.

Their retinue arrived at Lihua Palace, where the palace staff awaited them inside the southern gate to welcome the imperial procession.

Empress Dowager Zhang said, "Ye'er, come with me."

As soon as she spoke, Eunuch Qin rushed over, bowing as he said, "His Majesty summons Your Highness to stay in Zhengyang Palace for further discussion."

Fu Ye glanced at the Empress Dowager, who merely waved her hand and instructed Shuang Fu and the others, "Take good care of His Highness."

The palace was vast, and the dim candlelight left much of it in shadow. The mountain wind roared, rustling the surrounding trees, and the cold cut deeper than expected. When Fu Ye arrived at Zhengyang Palace, Fu Huang was not there. It was said that the Prime Minister, the Minister of Justice, and officials from the Ministry of Punishments had rushed over—they were still discussing the matter.

Zhengyang Palace was the Emperor’s residence, impeccably clean but too large and sparsely occupied, lending it a lonely atmosphere.

Fu Ye waited for a long time, exhaustion weighing heavily on him.

He was still too frail.

Qing Xi and the others lit a fire, and the hall gradually warmed. Too tired to stay awake, he fell asleep before Fu Huang returned. Bleary-eyed, he saw Fu Huang sitting by the bed, watching him.

"Brother."

"Sleep," Fu Huang said.

Qing Xi and the others were no longer present. A folding screen surrounded the bed, and the warmth was comforting, though the wind outside roared loudly, making the cold seem even more intense. This was not where Fu Huang usually slept—there was another bed nearby, separated by a screen. Fu Ye was too exhausted and soon sank back into sleep.

His hair spilled across the pillow, his face still pale and thin, his chin slightly pointed. Yet his thick, upward-slanting brows gave him a masculine vigor. Among the Empress Dowager and the court officials, he had always been dignified and proper, but today’s performance had truly impressed, proving that like brother, like brother.

As the Son of Heaven, the position beside him was one ordinary people could not occupy, and those of the imperial family were unwilling to stand there. Now, Fu Ye had stepped into that place.

The thought that Fu Ye might mirror his actions—whatever the Emperor did, the Prince would follow—stirred his blood.

He reached out to touch Fu Ye’s face. His fingers were too rough, so he deliberately traced the faint calluses against Fu Ye’s skin.

When Fu Ye awoke the next day, he found a new robe placed beside him.

"This is His Majesty’s everyday robes."

Though it was informal dress, the dragon patterns differed from those on a prince’s robes. A prince’s garments bore four-clawed dragons, referred to as "mang," while the Emperor’s informal robes featured more majestic five-clawed dragons.

Fu Huang was truly audacious—daring to give him the Emperor’s own clothes to wear.

Fu Ye did not dare to put them on, instead wearing his own soiled robes when he emerged.

The palace was blanketed in heavy mist, the sky still early. He bowed to the Empress Dowager first before returning to Zhengyang Palace, where he saw Fu Huang standing with his hands behind his back, watching him.

He gave a deep bow to Fu Huang.

Fu Huang said, "You're quite the rule-follower."

Fu Ye thought he was referring to his etiquette and replied with a smile, "If Brother Emperor forbids me from bowing, I can also break the rules."

Fu Huang said, "Go change out of these dirty clothes. They’re unpleasant to look at."

"I didn’t bring any other clothes. I can’t wear yours—I’m afraid Empress Dowager and the officials might see."

Fu Huang said, "I've been too lenient with you. Now you dare defy my decree."

The mist hung thick in the air, and his expression was weary and cold, making his joking intent unclear. Fu Ye returned to the palace and changed into Fu Huang’s clothes.

Fu Huang was much taller than him, but fortunately, Qing Xi tightened the garments and fastened the belt, making them fit well enough.

However, though the fabric of Fu Huang’s clothes was precious, they looked rather plain—not Fu Ye's style at all.

After dressing, he showed himself to Fu Huang, who examined him for a long while and seemed to like what he saw. "Wear mine whenever you're in the palace from now on," he said.

Fu Ye quickly protested, "I just helped Your Majesty resolve a major problem. Instead of rewarding me, you're setting me up for trouble!"

The corners of Fu Huang’s lips quirked up briefly. His mouth always carried a slight downward tilt, giving him a stern, bitter look. He seemed one with the cold spring morning—solemn and austere.

Indulgently, Fu Huang said, "With me here, what is there to fear?"