Chapter 52: Testing the Son

Chapter 52: Testing the Son

Accompanied by the drizzling spring rain, Le Wuya slept soundly through the night.

The next morning, refreshed and invigorated, Le Wuya intended to discuss further with the Sixth Prince—perhaps to gauge his interest in helping promote Le Wuya’s antique walnut business.

To win him over, he ought to offer greater incentives, right?

After all, the Sixth Prince was highly valuable.

Yet when Le Wuya strode in, head held high, for yet another visit, the postmaster informed him that the capital visitor had already departed Nanting early that morning.

Le Wuya had arrived full of anticipation—only to find the place empty. Disappointment washed over him.

He asked to see Xiang Zhijie’s room.

Everything inside had been tidied away, the room restored to its vacant state—except for the lingering citrusy sandalwood scent still hanging in the air.

Le Wuya paced slowly around the empty room, hands clasped behind his back, then sat down on the stool where Xiang Zhijie had sat the previous night. He assumed a stern expression, closed his eyes, and imitated his demeanor—idly fingering a string of prayer beads.

…

At a teahouse along the main road sat a master and his servant.

The Sixth Prince wore a tailored black robe and a plain headband—fully restored to his customary attire.

After sipping half a cup of plain tea, he couldn’t suppress a small yawn.

Ru Feng had gone to bed early the night before.

During the days he’d accompanied the Sixth Prince at the Nanting Posthouse, he’d indulged his appetite freely.

The moment Magistrate Wenren compiled the list of local specialties for Doctor Cui, Ru Feng had immediately secured a copy.

The first item on the list was Nanting crispy oil flatbreads—a clear indication of the magistrate’s personal fondness for them.

Indeed, the flatbreads were delicious—and scarce: only one batch baked each morning and evening, with no more available thereafter.

The Sixth Prince had waited for Magistrate Wenren to arrive and meet him, instructing Ru Feng to purchase several flatbreads each morning and evening to keep on hand.

But Magistrate Wenren’s arrival was delayed. The Sixth Prince, ever mindful of his health, never overate—so most of the crispy oil flatbreads ended up with Ru Feng.

Delicious as they were, eating them daily soon lost its appeal.

Springtime drowsiness, compounded by food-induced lethargy—finally, the night before, Ru Feng had succumbed and gone to bed early, sleeping like a log, oblivious even to the rain and thunder outside.

Now fully energized, he watched the Sixth Prince struggle against sleepiness—and couldn’t help letting out a long sigh: “Master, did you really have to leave so early? It’s barely time for morning court.”

Xiang Zhijie replied, “I must go.”

Ru Feng didn’t quite understand: “Last night’s meeting was so rushed. Magistrate Wenren will likely come to see you today—and yet you depart without a word…”

Xiang Zhijie said, “I know.”

That was precisely why he had to leave early.

If this meeting didn’t happen, his teacher would begin thinking of him—remembering him.

With that thought, Xiang Zhijie yawned again.

He handed over his empty cup and said mildly, “Teahouse master, I still have a long journey ahead—please make the tea a bit stronger.”

…

In the study, the Fifth Prince, Xiang Zhiyun, was quizzing the Eleventh Prince on his lessons.

The Eleventh Prince, Xiang Zhiqing, was just over four years old and had recently begun his studies. He recited the *Thousand Character Classic* in a halting, whining voice.

This scene might appear heartwarming—a tender display of brotherly affection—but Xiang Zhiyun, who conducted the quiz, wore a cold, rigid expression and sat bolt upright, leaving young Xiang Zhiqing nervous and frightened. His voice grew softer and softer until it faded to a whisper.

When the *Thousand Character Classic* was finished, the tall figure who had been idly playing with a parrot on the other side of the study turned around: “Finished?”

Xiang Zhiyun replied respectfully, “Your Majesty, the Eleventh Brother has completed his recitation.”

“How many mistakes?”

“Seven.”

“Which seven?”

Xiang Zhiyun listed them one by one.

Yet he received only an offhand remark: “Incorrect.”

A familiar unease crept up his spine.

Xiang Zhiyun swallowed hard: “Please, Your Majesty—correct me.”

“‘Serve your father and serve your lord, with reverence and respect’ was recited as ‘with solemnity and respect.’ And the character ‘豫’ in ‘悦豫且康’ was mispronounced as ‘愉.’”

The Emperor gazed at the parrot and spoke calmly: “I stood this far away—and heard it clearly. Next time, stand where I am and listen—perhaps you’ll hear it better.”

Sweat beaded on Xiang Zhiyun’s forehead.

His father’s words always hovered between teasing and reprimand—making it impossible to know how to respond.

The safest strategy was silence.

The Emperor beckoned warmly to Zhiqing: “Come here.”

Little Zhiqing obediently toddled over on his short legs to the Emperor’s side.

The Emperor lifted his youngest son onto his lap, gave him a gentle heft, and chuckled: “You’ve put on weight again.”

He gestured to the side, and a eunuch—understanding instantly—brought over a clean handkerchief.

As the Emperor wiped his son’s sweat, his tone softened with tenderness and pity: “How did you get so sweaty?”

Too young to grasp sorrow, Zhiqing had grown so anxious during his recitation that he’d nearly burst into tears—breaking into a heavy sweat. Now, cradled in his father’s arms and having his sweat gently wiped away, a surge of affection rose within him. Fear dissolved; he nestled into his father’s embrace like a little quail.

Xiang Zhiyun, too, stood nearby—forehead lightly sheened with sweat—overcome by a powerful sense of déjà vu.

In his childhood, the Late Crown Prince had tested him on his lessons just like this.

He, too, had once been held affectionately in his father’s arms like this.

Back then, he’d heard only his father’s slow, kind voice.

What his father had actually said to the Late Crown Prince—he hadn’t truly cared.

Now, whenever he heard that tone, he would involuntarily shiver, as if a cold, clammy venomous snake had crawled over the top of his foot.

Had his eldest brother once felt the same as he did now?

The refined voice sounded again: "Do you understand the trouble I go to?"

Xiang Zhiyun felt as if the snake that had crawled over his foot had lifted its head to glance at him, and all the hair on his body stood on end involuntarily.

"I am so strict with your younger brothers, seeking perfection, because they will all be your right-hand men in the future. If they prove themselves, you will have less to worry about in the future. Zhiyun, do you take my meaning?"

"Father, you flatter me," Xiang Zhiyun immediately replied. "We are full brothers; we should naturally support each other."

The phrase 'right-hand men' pertained to the ruler and the realm.

He must not touch it in the slightest, nor dare to entertain the thought.

Seeing that Xiang Zhiyun was rather depressed and dull, the emperor looked at the little eleventh prince in his arms and made a funny face at him.

Since Xiang Zhiqing had reached the age of understanding, he had been taught that the emperor loved children who followed the rules.

He did not have the courage to make a funny face back at his father, so he could only smile at him helplessly.

The emperor stared at him for a long time, then suddenly called out, "...You Que?"

Xiang Zhiqing: "?"

The emperor asked seriously, "Are you You Que?"

Xiang Zhiqing had no idea what this question meant. In his panic, he turned his head to look at the emperor's personal eunuch, Xue Jie.

But Xue Jie also lowered his head, as if he couldn't understand either.

In his nervousness, Xiang Zhiqing felt like crying again: "...Father?"

The next moment, the emperor's expression softened.

"I didn't think so either." He put Xiang Zhiqing down. "At You Que's age, he could already recite the 'Shang Shu.' That year, I was still the crown prince. Xu Zhaoyi's wife brought him into the palace, and his cleverness won the favor of many noblewomen."

Xiang Zhiyun said nothing.

The eleventh prince was born in the year Le Wuya died of illness.

On the day the eleventh prince was born, the emperor had said, "This child was born at the right time. If I could have You Que as my son, I would have no regrets in this life."

When the emperor said this, his voice was sorrowful and his eyes were regretful, as if executing Le Wuya was a matter of great pity, as if the order to mutilate the corpse had not been issued by himself.

Seeing both brothers with drooping heads, the emperor sighed: "Look, one by one, they never like to talk."

He turned to the fifth prince and said in a casual tone, "If You Que were here, the conversation would be interesting."

"When he was nine years old, I summoned him to the inner court and tested him on a few passages from the 'Spring and Autumn Annals.' He was able to converse with me fluently. I praised him for his early intelligence. Although I had memorized many classic texts since childhood, I didn't understand many principles until I was in my teens. Zhiyun, guess what he replied?"

Xiang Zhiyun felt his scalp tingle at this question.

The emperor praised a child, not citing others as examples, but using himself, and casually stepping on himself in the process.

How was one supposed to answer that?

If he agreed, he would be admitting that he surpassed the emperor.

If he declined, he would appear timid, which certainly wouldn't win the emperor's favor.

After thinking for a while, Xiang Zhiyun dared not think further.

If he could say the same things as Le Wuya and do the same things, he would probably have died long ago.

So he continued to play dead.

The emperor was quite interested in recalling the past and ignored his feigned deafness and dumbness.

In front of him was the nine-year-old Le Wuya, who bowed roundly and spoke clearly: "Those who are early wise die young; those who mature late live long. You, with the protection of dragon aura, must be both wise and long-lived. Although I am wise, I am also greedy. I want to accompany you and my parents for more years. Please keep me by your side, Your Majesty. With the dragon aura as shade, I and the Le family will have support."

This remark, when savored now, was also very interesting.

He repeated this to the crowd and praised, "What a sharp tongue, isn't it?"

Xiang Zhiyun: "..."

Even after so many years, he had to admire Le Wuya's tongue.

No wonder the emperor still remembered him fondly.

Mentioning Le Wuya, the emperor thought of another person: "Xiaoliu went to Nanting?"

Xiang Zhiyun replied, "Yes, it has been eight days. Xiaoliu said he would return to Shangjing in ten days. He is always punctual; you can rest assured, Father."

The emperor hummed, "The case handled by the Magistrate of Nanting some time ago was not bad, high and low. What is his name?"

Xue Jie softly reminded, "Reporting to Your Majesty, the Magistrate of Nanting is named Wen Renyue."

"Ah, I remember now, Wen Renmingke, a good name." The emperor commented, "I wonder what methods he used to make our Xiaoliu infatuated with him."

Xiang Zhiyun sensed that this topic was not right, so he held his breath and concentrated, not saying much.

However, the emperor did not intend to let him off.

"Zuo Ruyi last accompanied you into the palace half a year ago, right?" the emperor asked. "Why don't you have him follow you anymore?"

Xiang Zhiyun's face suddenly turned pale, and he forced himself to reply, "Zuo Ruyi served badly and committed an offense. I have sent him to the estate."

"Whether it's reciting books or dealing with people, with you as their older brother setting an example, they can walk the right path and establish a righteous posture."

The emperor said casually, "Go back and dispose of him. Handle it yourself, cleanly, and leave no loose ends."

The eleventh prince did not understand the meaning of "dispose" and looked innocently at his fifth brother, whose face was deathly pale.

Xiang Zhiyun was speechless, his heart like being fried in oil, thumping and screaming:

Zuo Ruyi had grown up with him since childhood. He was pure and innocent, only a bit handsome-looking.

Half a year ago, when he brought Zuo Ruyi into the palace, the sun was very strong. He was sweaty and found he had no handkerchief. Zuo Ruyi wiped his sweat for him, fearing he might be disrespectful in front of the emperor.

Who would have thought this scene was seen by the emperor!

At that time, the emperor even teased him a few times, saying if he had feelings, he shouldn't make a fuss in front of the princess; he could just secretly take him in.

Xiang Zhiyun was shocked speechless. He knew the emperor was warning him, so he hurriedly sent Zuo Ruyi away, afraid that he would catch the emperor's eye.

For unknown reasons, those who caught the emperor's attention and were in his sight never seemed to come to a good end.

Big Brother was like that, and so was Le Wuya.

But even so, he still could not protect him.

Still... still...

Countless words rushed to his lips, but Xiang Zhiyun could only swallow them with a bitter swallow, forcing out a stiff, cold word: "...Yes."

The emperor nodded with satisfaction: "By the way, that magistrate of Nanting..."

Xue Jie bowed again and replied: "Wen Renyue."

The emperor stood up, his face beaming: "Reward him! Recently, Huzhou sent a set of the Four Treasures of the Study. It'll be perfect for a talented person."

He strode out of the study: "At the next merit review, have the Ministry of Personnel compile a record of his work merits and send it to me for review."

Xiang Zhiyun, dazed, followed the emperor and slowly paced out of the study.

He finally knew where he had gone wrong.

He should not have hidden that person.

If he had openly asked for leave like Xiaoliu, stating his whereabouts, the Emperor would not have suspected.

Hiding Zuo Ruyi was a major taboo.

Wrong.

Wherever he was by the Emperor's side, everything he did was wrong.

The emperor walking ahead slightly turned his head, looked at his fifth son who was distracted, and heaved a silent sigh.

Yet another one ruined?

Worthless.