Chapter 97: Lanterns (1)

Chapter 97: Lanterns (1)

With this great worry off his mind, Lü Deyao felt reborn, his steps growing livelier with each stride.

By the time he reached the palace gate, he had fully returned to life.

Were he not still within the palace grounds, he'd be swinging his arms and legs like a happy kid.

In contrast, Le Wuya kept it seriously low-key, silently trailing behind him.

...He had no choice but to keep it low-key.

Clutching the imperially bestowed sword in his arms, he was conspicuous enough; if he also carried himself with an air of grandeur, he might get slapped with a charge of "disrespecting the court, frivolous and irreverent."

He was dead set on being an honest official, so he naturally had to keep his tail tucked in a little.

Even so, every official who brushed past him couldn't help but steal a glance his way.

But in their hurried passing, they could only catch a glimpse of the handsome jawline beneath his ceremonial cap, unable to make out his full features.

They reached the palace gate without incident.

After seeing off the eunuch guide, Prefect Lü shot Le Wuya a look like he'd just won something, drawing out his words in a snide, drawn-out tone: "I thought Magistrate Wenren, with his distinguished merits and the prince's deep favor, might be kept in the capital to shoot straight up to the top."

Le Wuya smiled in return: "Prefect Lü must have other matters to attend to, surely?"

Prefect Lü was left speechless, choking on his own words, his wizened face crumpling like dried orange peel.

Earlier, uncertain of his fate on this journey, he had scrambled like a drowning man grasping at straws, networking throughout the capital to gather intelligence, and in his panic had promised all sorts of favors and perks to various officials who had come to the capital.

Now that he was safe, he had to go around fulfilling those promises and giving thanks—another hefty expense looming ahead.

Prefect Lü was too busy feeling the pain of his retirement nest egg to spar with Le Wuya any further.

Le Wuya got some blessed peace and quiet, cradling the imperial sword as he gazed back at the winding palace path.

It led straight to Zhaoming Hall.

Glazed tiles, golden chambers—even under the overcast sky, it blazed with dazzling, over-the-top luxury.

Le Wuya flashed a brilliant smile and turned to leave.

As he turned, he saw the Jing tribe delegation rolling in with their whole entourage.

He and Prefect Lü hastily retreated to the roadside, bowing their heads in greeting.

Le Wuya stared at the lotus-patterned bricks beneath his feet, thinking: I heard the Jing delegation was to enter the palace for an audience these two days—by the look of this procession, today must be the day.

At that thought, his eyes lit up: that means there's a lantern festival tonight!

Helian Che, at the heart of the delegation, approached from afar. Seeing Le Wuya standing by the roadside looking all meek and innocent like a scared quail, but with a smirk playing at his lips—a smirk that wasn't exactly innocent, oozing natural slyness, looking equal parts annoying and adorable—he raised a hand as he passed: "Halt."

Le Wuya had been planning to treat himself to a fine meal at the Tower Beyond the Tower, then rush to Misty Rain Bridge to snag a good spot to watch the river lanterns, when the whole massive delegation came to a stop before him.

Le Wuya: ?

Helian Che pointed at Le Wuya: "Why is this guy allowed to carry a weapon into the palace?"

Minister of Rites Chang Yuxing, well past sixty with a white beard and hair, had a great temper—a cheerful old man who smiled all year round.

He leisurely glanced at the sword in Le Wuya's arms and answered with easy confidence, neither groveling nor arrogant: "To answer Chief Helian, it's a ceremonial piece, never sharpened—surely a gift from His Majesty to this official."

"Oh." Helian Che turned his head away coldly, his green eyes holding a cool, appraising stillness. "I thought it was specifically targeting us, but it seems you are equally cautious with your own people."

Chang Yuxing, sharp as a tack, immediately sensed that the man was saying one thing but meaning another, though its exact intent remained unclear.

He did not press further, merely pondering while maintaining his smile.

"If you are so cautious, perhaps we might as well do away with tonight's lantern festival," Helian Che said coolly. "Walking here today, I saw but a few sparse lanterns by the roadside—I didn't see a 'golden age,' just 'watch out for fire.'"

Le Wuya had not expected the man to possess such a playful, teasing side and couldn't help sneaking a peek at him.

Helian Che's long hair cascaded over his shoulders, with a little braid woven in through his thick dark locks, strung with red sandalwood beads.

Le Wuya recalled that as a child, blessed with a thick, lustrous mane of his own, he too had loved braiding his hair—but he would usually tire halfway through, flop onto the table playing dead like a lazy dog, and throw a fit, rolling around on the floor demanding Little Phoenix fix the mess.

In the end, Little Phoenix had indeed gotten really good at braiding hair.

On the other side, Helian Che was also checking him out from the corner of his eye.

...He was staring off into space, lost in some thought or another.

His fingers itched, and he pinched and rubbed them gently to resist the urge to flick him in the forehead.

Meanwhile, Chang Yuxing had it all figured out: the man thought the show wasn't flashy enough.

Though under his arrangements, tonight's lantern festival was only one tier below the annual Lantern Festival on the fifteenth of the first month, since Helian Che found it lacking, there was still daylight left to enhance it and show off Dayu's might.

Minister Chang smiled warmly: "Chief Helian jests—the lanterns are not yet fully arranged, so the liveliness has yet to show. Tonight the capital lifts its curfew, with partying all night long, precisely to celebrate a friendship between Dayu and the Jing tribe that never fades. It won't be a small affair."

"Is that so? Then I shall wait and see."

Even in pleasantries, Helian Che's eyes carried a born arrogance and coldness: "Should Minister Chang ever have the time, you are welcome to visit the Jing tribe and attend a Lamp-Lighting Festival, to see what it means to have a thousand households singing and ten thousand homes ablaze with light."

Minister Chang had one of the best temperaments in the world; even when a foreign leader took a jab at him to his face, he remained a cheerful old man: "Splendid—I accept Chief Helian's gracious invitation. If I ever retire from office, I shall certainly come to feast my eyes, and I'll trouble you then for a fine cup of barley wine."

After exchanging pleasantries before Le Wuya, the delegation continued its grand advance.

Minister Chang, worried the low-ranking official might hold a grudge, deliberately slowed his step, and as the delegation moved away, made a point to reassure him: "Don't worry—it wasn't aimed at you. Go on back."

Le Wuya said respectfully: "Yes."

Minister Chang had already begun to step forward when his peripheral vision caught Le Wuya again. The minor official looked kind of familiar, so he drew his foot back, bent down, and took a closer look at him.

When he saw Le Wuya's full face, his finely groomed beard gave a violent twitch. He went white as a sheet and blurted out: "...Oh my, by the Three Pure Ones above!"

Le Wuya: ...?

...Wait, what?

From what he remembered, Old Chang was the most gentle and polite man you'd ever meet.

Even if Le Wuya looked a bit like his past self, surely it shouldn't provoke such a reaction?

While Le Wuya was baffled, Prefect Lü was equally stunned, looking back and forth between Le Wuya and Minister Chang several times.

He had always thought this Wen Ren Yue was a hot commodity—for some reason, everyone who passed had to look twice, even take a nibble.

Could it be that... although he's nominally a merchant's descendant, he's actually some high-ranking official's bastard child in the capital?

And come to think of it, although Minister Chang is up there in years, he still looks like an old immortal, with hints of his dashing good looks from his youth faintly visible.

He reacted so strongly... could it be that...

At this moment, Minister Chang also noticed his own loss of composure. He quickly offered a flustered smile, gave a slight nod, and then took long strides to rejoin his delegation.

He forced himself not to look back, but his mind was already in chaos:

Good heavens!

...How is he actually alive again?!

...

After parting ways with Prefect Lyu, who was quietly grumbling to himself, Le Wuya returned to the post station. He carelessly tossed aside the longsword gifted to him by the Old Emperor, then headed back into the city, wandering alone down the long street.

Before long, a group of officers and soldiers surged onto the street, clearing a huge space like a whirlwind, and displayed new lanterns one after another in an endless stream.

Giant fish lanterns, revolving horse lanterns, animal-shaped lanterns, and lanterns depicting the Four Beauties—all sorts of ingenious creations that could rival nature itself.

This was naturally something the citizens of the capital loved to see.

They were delighted and amazed, buzzing with discussion, getting more and more excited for the lantern festival after sunset.

The entire capital became filled with joy and excitement.

Le Wuya found a tea stall, settled in, ordered a cup of tea and a plate of fruit, and watched the passersby below with spring in their steps, waiting with the common folk for nightfall.

He thought, this lively scene seemed to be something Helian Che had specially created for him.

But back then, when he had been sent by imperial decree to the borderlands to meet him as an envoy, why had he hated him so much?

It seemed that dying that time had truly been worth the trouble.

...

Meanwhile, at the imperial banquet, drums and music swelled, and the soft strains of strings drifted through the air.

As the nectar was slowly poured into the cups, it seemed to harmonize with the melody, stirring and beautiful.

Helian Che raised his wine cup, held it to his lips without drinking, and traced his thumb along the rim of the jade cup. Like Le Wuya, he too was recalling that year.

That year, he had slain the last member of the Huyan family's royal line, and covered in the dust of war with blood on his hands, he had taken his place as chieftain of the Jing tribe.

That year, Dayu had sent an envoy to call on him, to congratulate him on taking power.

The envoy sent was a man named Le Wuya.

Helian Che could no longer recall the specific details of that banquet, only that the food didn't agree with him and the wine was too harsh.

Le Wuya had been just as ill at ease, smiling and chatting with him on the surface, trying to enliven the atmosphere of the feast, but one hand had been pressed hard against his stomach beneath the table, with sweat beading on his forehead.

Helian Che had also eaten without any appetite, feeling a dull ache in his stomach.

He was always robust, so any slight discomfort in his body produced an intense reaction, and his mood hit rock bottom.

He said coldly, "Lord Yue, does the wine of the Jing tribe not suit your palate?"

Le Wuya answered honestly: "No, the wine is fine. It's just that I was injured in my early years, and the strong wine of the Jing tribe doesn't sit well with me. It's my fault, not the wine's."

Helian Che set his jaw slightly, his fingers rubbing them together beneath the table, as if his fingertips were still strung with a cold bowstring.

That was a wound he had inflicted with his own hands. He knew exactly how painful it was.

Helian Che looked him over carefully for a long moment, then said point-blank: "Lord Yue should look after yourself properly. I observe that you are frail and thin—you don't look like you'll last long."

This remark was extremely rude, even bordering on a curse.

The other members of the envoy delegation went pale at once, itching to speak up, but seeing Le Wuya's calm demeanor, they suppressed their indignation, privately praising Lord Yue for being worthy of his reputation—he could endure what no ordinary man could.

Helian Che, seeing him merely smile without answering, felt his rage had nowhere to go.

He stared at the slender wrist revealed as Le Wuya raised his cup, and spoke with a hint of venom: "May I ask where Lord Yue's hometown is? After you die, would you be willing to be buried there?"

After a moment's thought, Le Wuya replied with complete composure: "Chieftain Helian jests. I am of the Yue family, and even in death, I would naturally be buried in the Yue family ancestral graves."

Helian Che shot to his feet, glaring coldly at Le Wuya for a long while without a word, then said: "I shall step away for a moment. Please remain seated and enjoy the wine and the dancing."

With that, he turned and stormed out of the banquet, leaving the other envoys looking at each other in confusion:

Wasn't it Helian Che himself who had been pushing and provoking with every word? Why was he the one to get so worked up first?

Neither Le Wuya nor the rest of the delegation knew that at this moment, Helian Che was desperately holding on to his last shred of dignity.

His rationality was only enough to carry him back to his own chambers.

His ears were ringing, echoing over and over the words that almost made him lose it.

The Yue family...

The Yue family ancestral graves...

That day, he went completely berserk, tearing down the portraits of Le Wuya from the walls one by one, smashing the inkstone, snapping the paintbrushes, and destroying everything he could sweep off the table.

When his outburst was spent, under the terrified gaze of his quaking servants, he made his way back toward the banquet hall filled with the clink of cups and chatter—only to see Le Wuya, who had also stepped out, outside the hall.

Helian Che walked up with his hands behind his back, striding quickly, and glared at him: "Lord Yue, do you loathe the food and drink of the Jing tribe so much?"

Le Wuya had just snuck out to throw up a moment ago. Now his stomach was empty and he felt much better, but his limbs felt like jelly, and he could only lean against the wall for support.

He said softly, "Chieftain Helian..."

Hearing himself addressed so formally, Helian Che flew into a rage for no reason. Seeing that only his own people were around, he just laid his hands on him, hoisted him up, and slammed his body hard against the stone wall, forcing a pained grunt out of him.

Le Wuya's build was truly slight.

Even though he had grown so tall, Helian Che was still confident he could lift him with one arm.

His fine younger brother, brought to this state by his own doing, and then raised by the Dayu people into this frail and easily pushed around form.

This was a crime he and the Dayu people had committed together.

Helian Che wanted to tell him to respect himself, but he knew he was in no position to do so.

Driven by a fury he could not vent, the world before Helian Che's eyes turned as blood-red as the setting sun: "What did you call me? What are you supposed to call me?"

Le Wuya finally caught his breath, speaking slowly and clearly: "Chieftain Helian, please... have some decency."

Helian Che abruptly let him go.

Le Wuya landed, staggered slightly, then used the momentum to bow, tidied his rumpled collar, and walked toward the brilliantly lit hall.

Helian Che watched his frail figure walk alone into that dark, treacherous abyss. For all his immense strength, he could neither hold him back nor turn him around. His eyes prickled with heat, and he turned away.

...

Cups clinked crisply.

Le Wuya lowered his eyes, looking at the pale tea in his bowl, and sighed.

That day, bathed in brilliant radiance, Le Wuya turned around and looked at the tall, lonely figure where the lights were fading, lost in thought for a moment.

Shaking himself out of it, he couldn't help but mock himself inwardly.

What a fool.

He loathes you.

He turned around, about to step forward, when he suddenly felt a prickling numbness in his back.

—A dark, intent gaze emerged from the shadows, locking onto his back.

He knew that Helian Che, hidden in the dark, was watching him unblinkingly.

Fake relatives could hug and laugh, share deep bonds, sling arms around each other's shoulders.

Real family, however, only dared to look at him with such dark, murky, shameful looks when his back was turned.

...

Le Wuya fiddled with the pouch at his waist, from which came the crisp tinkling of a gold-inlaid jade bell.

If only he had known Helian Che could be this good, he would have acted coquettishly toward him back then.

God knows, he really felt awful that day.

Amid his sighs and lingering regrets, Le Wuya welcomed the lantern fair, even more bustling than the Lantern Festival itself.