Chapter 58 It Truly Is the Imperial Sword

Chapter 58: It Was Indeed the Imperial Sword

Months flew by, and the spring of the twelfth year of Jingchun arrived quietly.

The second auspicious day chosen by the Imperial Astrologer was fast approaching, yet Xie Xiao still hadn't returned.

Since the three-pronged offensive from the border garrisons last year, Xie Xiao's central forces had engaged and decisively defeated the remaining main forces of the Wuerhun tribe east of the Kelimu River, annihilating the enemy completely. Afterward, he led his troops deep into the northern deserts, advancing all the way to the Dansui Mountains, where he also dispersed the Tutehan Tribe, which had colluded with the Wuerhun people. This campaign had now lasted over five months.

Unfortunately, the Khan of the Tutehan Tribe managed to escape. The western route forces, tasked with interception, claimed they had gotten lost in the desert and failed to catch up, allowing the enemy to flee.

Nevertheless, the Wuerhun Tribe, which had plagued the Dajing border for nearly two centuries since the nation’s founding, was now truly eradicated root and branch. The smaller tribes that had once relied on them subsequently crumbled, and wherever the Dajing cavalry advanced, surrender was immediate.

Xie Xiao had not yet returned with his troops and remained in the northern deserts, attempting to track down the escaped Tutehan Khan. Reports reached the court every half-month, along with a personal letter to Yan Weichu.

The turmoil in Ji and Yu Provinces had also been quelled, with refugees properly resettled. By autumn, the disaster situation had eased somewhat. The newly appointed officials promoted by the emperor had all taken office, though land surveying and registration would still require considerable time.

After completing the survey and reorganization of military settlements, it was discovered that large amounts of civilian farmland had been encroached upon. The imperial censors sent by the emperor accordingly shifted their focus to surveying civilian lands and expanding their scope from the disaster-stricken areas to the entirety of Ji and Yu Provinces and even the surrounding prefectures.

There was significant opposition within the court, but with the Eastern Depot providing assistance and part of the Capital Garrison Troops remaining in the region, dissent was futile.

Two days before the New Year, Liu Chongjing put his duties on hold and returned to the capital to report on his work, seizing the opportunity to get married.

On the sixth day of the first lunar month, Xie Yunniang was married.

After Xie Xiao departed on the campaign, she had returned to reside at the Duke of Zhenguo’s mansion and left from there for her wedding.

Xie Yuankui, released from the imperial prison, was also allowed back to the mansion. Though he retained his noble title, all his official positions were stripped. This was not out of any mercy from Yan Weichu—the old man was, after all, Xie Xiao’s father. If he were charged with a capital offense, Xie Xiao would also be implicated. Thus, he was permitted to remain in the capital as a wealthy idler in retirement. Of course, if he caused any further trouble, Yan Weichu would not hesitate to have him quietly disposed of.

Xie Yi, implicated by his uncle, had died in the imperial prison. Xie Yuankui had lost his wife, and the Dowager Duchess and Lady Shen had both fallen gravely ill. The Duke of Zhenguo’s mansion had been shrouded in gloom during this period, yet the wedding had to proceed.

It was, after all, a marriage decreed by the emperor himself. They did not dare neglect it, lest they incur another reprimand from the emperor.

Yan Weichu personally went to the Duke of Zhenguo’s mansion to see Xie Yunniang off. With Xie Xiao absent, he took his place to escort his elder sister out.

He even boldly ventured into the mansion’s rear courtyard, condescending to pay a visit to the Dowager Duchess.

Since Xie Yi’s death, two of her three grandsons had died, leaving only Xie Xiao, for whom she held little affection and whom she despised. The old lady had fallen into despair and become bedridden. Were it not for Yan Weichu’s orders to sustain her life with the finest medicines, the mansion might have had to hold a funeral first.

Yan Weichu had no good intentions in this—he simply did not want the old lady to die too soon and delay the wedding. She had to hold on until after the marriage.

When Yan Weichu entered the room, the servants forcibly helped the old lady sit up before discreetly withdrawing.

During this time, he had replaced the mansion’s serving staff under Xie Xiao’s name, filling it with his own informants. Xie Yuankui, thoroughly terrified from his time in prison, dared not utter a word of protest.

With free rein to come and go, no one dared obstruct him.

The room was thick with the smell of medicine, which Yan Weichu found unpleasant. He casually took a seat at a moderate distance from the bed.

The old lady struggled to open her eyes, seeming momentarily stunned to see him. Unhappy at the absence of others, she hoarsely asked, "What are you doing here?"

Yan Weichu replied, "To see if you’ve died yet. The Senior Duke devoted his life to military service and exhausted himself for Dajing’s sake. His greatest flaw was likely marrying a venomous woman like you, who failed to raise any of her children or grandchildren properly. The only accomplished one, the Marquis of Dingbei, fortunately did not grow up under your influence. Don’t you think you’ve lived a rather failed life?"

The old lady’s expression shifted dramatically, fury overtaking her frail, aged features. Trembling with agitation, she clutched her chest. "How dare you be so insolent! I am still your elder!"

"You don’t deserve that respect," Yan Weichu said disdainfully. "Do you think you’re worthy of being called my elder?"

The old lady stared in shock, her cloudy eyes widening in horror. "You... what did you call yourself?"

Yan Weichu offered no explanation, instead asking, "Xie Yi accused the Duke of Zhenguo’s second wife of being a foreign spy, claiming that a secret letter from an informant you planted in the Duke of Zhenguo’s household exposed the matter. Since it was your informant, did you know about this?"

"...I don’t know what you’re talking about," the old lady said, rallying her weakened body and evading the question, her gaze filled with wariness and caution. "Who are you, really?"

Yan Weichu tilted his head. The old lady appeared deeply guilty—she clearly knew about it, if not outright condoned Xie Yi’s actions.

"Setting your own grandson to accuse your son," Yan Weichu said sarcastically. "If you truly had no ulterior motives and it was, as Xie Yi claimed, a righteous act to condemn family, I ought to commend you. But was it?"

This time, the old lady clearly heard his self-reference. Her horror turned to terror. "You... you’re the emperor..."

"Yes," Yan Weichu admitted outright. "I am the emperor. Are you afraid of me?"

The old lady stared in disbelief, as if hearing something utterly absurd and incomprehensible. Her lips trembled violently, but no words emerged.

Yan Weichu’s eyes filled with disgust. "You knew full well your son was incompetent, and you never cared much for him anyway. You knew this matter couldn’t stay hidden forever—once exposed, the entire Duke of Zhenguo’s household would be executed. So you had Xie Yi make the accusation. If Xie Yuankui’s line died, so be it. You only wanted to preserve your younger son’s lineage and their wealth. Am I wrong?"

As her scheme was laid bare, the old lady’s face gradually turned ashen. She struggled to speak. "This old woman had no choice..."

Yan Weichu’s expression was icy. He laughed mockingly. "You had no choice, but you also desperately wished for my cousin to die. Xie Shi’s downfall was entirely his own doing, yet you, old woman, distorted right and wrong and held a grudge against my cousin for it, didn’t you?"

Mentioning Xie Shi agitated the old lady. She mustered her strength to argue. "What did I do wrong? My son was deceived by a woman into colluding with the enemy. Even if I had ulterior motives in having my grandson accuse him, what of it? Since you are the emperor, shouldn’t you understand my difficulties?!"

"I cannot understand," Yan Weichu said contemptuously. "I am the emperor, but like you, I favor my own. You wanted my cousin dead, so I can only have you killed.

"There’s one more matter I haven’t settled with you. Years ago, when Empress Dowager Xie forced poison down my mother’s throat, it was your idea, wasn’t it? Your dear daughter confessed before she died, telling me to settle accounts with you. Old woman, you really are despised by all, even dogs."

Mentioning those past events seemed to drain the last of the old lady’s strength. She collapsed back, her face deathly pale.

Her terror upon learning Yan Weichu’s true identity stemmed from guilt. After Empress Dowager Xie’s death, she had lived in constant fear that her turn would come. Now, the blow had finally fallen, and in a manner entirely beyond her expectations.

Yan Weichu stood up, looking down at her with impassive eyes. "Rest assured. The Senior Duke was loyal and courageous, having rendered extraordinary service to Dajing. I will preserve the honor of the Duke of Zhenguo’s household. But as for who will lead this mansion in the future, that will be my decision. As for you, who knows how many days you have left? Enjoy them."

Yan Weichu left, stepping out of the courtyard. As he crossed the threshold separating the rear chambers from the front courtyard, the coldness on his face transformed into a bright smile as he went to see Xie Yunniang off.

Xie Yunniang had just bid farewell to Xie Yuankui in the main hall and emerged. Yan Weichu waited for her in the courtyard. "Elder Sister, I’ll see you off on my cousin’s behalf."

It had been some time since Xie Yunniang last saw him. She exchanged a few pleasantries with a smile, and Yan Weichu escorted her to the mansion’s gate.

The wedding procession awaited there. Liu Chongjing stepped forward, showing no surprise at seeing Yan Weichu.

Yan Weichu had revealed his identity to him two days prior during an audience. Even if he hadn’t, Liu Chongjing had already been subtly informed by his father.

Liu Chongjing received his bride, helped her into the bridal sedan chair, then bowed to Yan Weichu in farewell. Yan Weichu nodded and instructed, "Treat Elder Sister well."

In a voice too low for others to hear, Liu Chongjing solemnly replied, "I obey Your Majesty’s decree."

After the wedding procession departed, the once lively Duke of Zhenguo’s mansion fell silent.

Yan Weichu lingered, turning back to gaze up at the plaque above the gate, bestowed by Emperor Taizu himself. This vast Duke of Zhenguo’s mansion was now entirely in his grasp.

Unfortunately, the one he most wanted to hold was still thousands of miles away.

Shortly after the Lantern Festival, the emperor issued a decree to personally inspect the border regions.

With the northern campaign nearing its end, the emperor’s decision to tour the border at this time was indeed intriguing.

In addition to his personal guards, Yan Weichu also selected units from the Capital Garrison Troops and officials from the Grand Secretariat, six ministries, and capital offices to accompany him. After several days of preparation, the massive procession set out from the capital in the latter part of the month.

Only after the imperial carriage had departed did the officials left behind begin to murmur and speculate about the emperor’s true purpose for this journey.

"I heard the Ministry of Revenue brought along both the land and grain registers for the nine frontiers. The Emperor says he's inspecting the borders, but in reality, he's probably going to check grain and land. Didn’t you see that old man Liu Zhu’s son is also in the party? He has experience in this, so naturally, the Emperor brought him along."

"Tsk, those frontier generals just returned from battle, and now the Emperor is ready to kill the goose that lays the golden eggs. Isn’t he afraid of pushing them into rebellion?"

"Keep your voice down. Don’t think you can talk nonsense just because the imperial procession has left. The Imperial Guard has left plenty of people behind."

"I’m just afraid that if the Emperor succeeds, his next move will surely be against the south…"

"Hmph, we’ll see!"

In the carriage, Liu Zhu was giving instructions to his son. The Emperor’s border inspection was indeed to audit accounts and, at the same time, consolidate military power in the frontier towns. It was going to be a tough battle, and they couldn’t afford to be careless.

"It won’t be easy to clarify the military garrison land situation in the frontier towns. I’m always worried sick something might happen," Liu Zhu stroked his long beard, deeply concerned. He had advised Yan Weichu not to come personally, but the Emperor wouldn’t hear of it.

His son had been given even more responsibility—true, he had experience. The task in Jizhou wasn’t finished yet and had been handed over to the Eastern Depot to continue, but the Emperor brought him along for the border inspection. Both father and son were doing work that offended the entire court… Doing the work was one thing, but what they feared most was that if anything happened to the Emperor, they would be finished too.

Liu Chongjing wasn’t too worried: "Father, don’t worry. At least the Marquis of Dingbei is on His Majesty’s side. With the Marquis of Dingbei here, nothing will go wrong."

Liu Zhu wondered whether that Marquis of Dingbei was reliable. The Emperor was quite smitten, but what about the Marquis? Did he have the same devotion to the Emperor?

As they spoke, someone from the Emperor’s Imperial Guard came to deliver orders to the accompanying officials: His Majesty wanted to speed up the march and reach the frontier towns as soon as possible.

Liu Zhu rubbed his aching back and inwardly groaned.

His Majesty was eager to see his paramour, but it was their old bones that would suffer for it.

In February in the Northern Desert, the wind cut like a knife.

The army marched silently across the vast wilderness, their armor covered in frost, their horses' hooves shattering the thin ice underfoot.

They had been traveling in this area for nearly half a month, exhausted and weary, but had failed to find any trace of the fleeing Tutehan Khan. Reluctantly, they had to turn back.

As evening fell, the army reached a sheltered spot at the foot of a mountain. Xie Xiao reined in his warhorse and ordered a camp to be set up there. Dismounting, his gaze fell upon the birch forest ahead, where he caught a fleeting glimpse of a gray shadow.

Drawing his bow and nocking an arrow, Xie Xiao’s movements were fluid and seamless. The arrow sliced through the frozen air, and a faint rustle came from behind the snow slope.

A guard jogged over to retrieve the prey and brought it back: "Marquis, it’s a sable."

Xie Xiao looked—the arrow had cleanly pierced the small creature’s throat without damaging the fur. It was a rare silver-purple, shimmering with a subtle brilliance in the gloomy twilight.

He reached out and touched it, inexplicably reminded of Yan Weichu’s smiling face last winter, bundled in heavy fox fur, his eyes and nose always reddened by the wind and snow.

He asked for a short knife and carefully skinned the sable himself.

His frozen fingers were stiff and clumsy, but Xie Xiao worked with complete concentration, oblivious to the wind and frost buffeting his face.

The pelt was removed intact, undamaged and luxurious.

He carefully wrapped it in oilpaper and handed it to his guard: "After it’s tanned, send it to the Count of Anding’s residence in the capital."

A Deputy General who saw this couldn’t help but say: "Marquis, such a rare piece would be better presented to His Majesty…"

"His Majesty has no shortage of sable pelts," Xie Xiao interrupted softly, ordering the item to be put away. Once tanned, the pelt would be soft and warm—perfect for making a hand warmer for his young husband.

The Marquis was deeply in love.

The officers, realizing this, grew even more curious about the wife they had never met.

The army camped here for two days to rest and regroup when news arrived that the Emperor’s border inspection would soon reach Wulong.

Xie Xiao asked the messenger: "How many troops has His Majesty brought?"

The messenger replied: "One hundred thousand Capital Garrison Troops, thirty thousand Imperial Guard, and some civil officials. There are rumors that Ministry of Revenue officials brought land and grain registers. His Majesty is here to audit accounts."

"His Majesty really… The war just ended, and he’s already here to make trouble…"

Someone grumbled discontentedly.

Xie Xiao, however, had no particular thoughts. Since the Emperor had sent imperial censors to Jizhou to survey the land, he had known this day would come.

During his grandfather’s time, governance had been strict. In terms of military colony accounts, the three frontier towns under his grandfather’s control—Wulong, Yan'an, and Shuoning—were the ones with the fewest problems among all frontier towns. Even if things had slackened under his father’s leadership in recent years, and perhaps some subordinates had been duplicitous, the overall situation should still be acceptable.

"Which Imperial Guard units?" Xie Xiao asked, "Is the Qilin Guard among them?"

The messenger confirmed: "Yes, His Majesty brought ten thousand Qilin Guard troops with him."

Xie Xiao held back his excitement and ordered: "Break camp and return tomorrow."

The officers continued to discuss animatedly, all feeling that the Emperor’s border inspection at this time was not a good thing and unsure what turmoil it would stir up.

An old general sighed: "This young Emperor is just like the late Emperor—both cunning. Back in the twentieth year of Taichu during the late Emperor’s reign, he also came to inspect the borders. I accompanied the Senior Duke to pay respects to the Fenliang General. The late Emperor held a banquet to summon us frontier generals—it was truly a Hongmen Banquet.

"During the feast, the late Emperor took up a sword and performed a dance. We were all mesmerized, seeing the Imperial Sword’s elegance for the first time. But then, the late Emperor’s sword suddenly turned and plunged into the body of the Fenliang General at that time. Blood gushed out instantly.

"I was sitting right next to that Fenliang General. He collapsed right in front of me, the Imperial Sword still lodged in his chest. That time, I got a clear look at what the Imperial Sword really looked like. It left a deep impression on me all these years, and even now, remembering it sends chills down my spine."

Though this had happened over twenty years ago, everyone present had heard of it, and the discussion grew even more lively.

Some said that the Fenliang General had been plotting rebellion and the late Emperor had preempted him, but who could say for sure what was true or false?

Xie Xiao listened and suddenly asked: "What did the Imperial Sword look like?"

The old general gestured: "The sword’s scabbard and hilt were carved from a single piece of dark jade, engraved with a coiled, raised five-clawed dragon. The dragon’s eyes were inlaid with darker black jade for half the pupils. No matter which angle you looked from, it felt as if it was scornfully staring at you—utterly chilling. The blade itself was also engraved with two intertwined golden dragons. When the sword moved, it seemed as if those two dragons were swimming too…"

Everyone listened with awe and curiosity.

But the more Xie Xiao heard, the more his frown deepened. The sword the Emperor had bestowed upon him was indeed the Imperial Sword.

But… why?

Less than ten miles from Wulong, as they halted for the evening, someone presented the item Xie Xiao had just ordered delivered.

*

Yan Weichu opened the sandalwood box and his eyes lit up at the sight of the complete, exquisite sable pelt inside.

He reached out and picked it up. The texture was soft, like clouds sliding between his fingers.

"Was this sent by the Marquis of Dingbei? Who did he say it was for?" Yan Weichu asked.

"Your Majesty," the attendant answered, "the Marquis’s guard who delivered it said this gift was hunted by the Marquis himself and is for the Marquis of Dingbei. The Marquis said this sable pelt is beautiful and warm, perfect for making a hand warmer for the Marquis of Dingbei."

Yan Weichu laughed softly: "Such a fine thing, and he only thinks of the Marquis of Dingbei, forgetting about me, the Emperor."

Who dared respond to that? If he had sent it to the Emperor but not the Marquis of Dingbei, wouldn’t you be displeased too?

Yan Weichu was actually very pleased. Whether it was for the Emperor or for the Count of Anding, it was still him.

He gently stroked the sable pelt in his hand, unable to put it down.

In February at the frontier, the wind remained bitingly cold, but what he held in his hand was a whole warm, radiant spring.