Volume One, Chapter 12: The Emperor’s Predicament

“Enough, you may leave.” Chu Xiong gazed steadily at the trembling Marquis of Yongping, Xie Lin, and spoke slowly.

“Your servant takes his leave!” Xie Lin bowed and departed.

Once Xie Lin was gone, Crown Prince Chu Neng also hastened to take his leave; he needed to inform his sister at once that the marriage alliance was no longer required.

After everyone had left, a cold gleam filled their eyes.

It was nothing else.

Some days ago, Prince Su had proposed that with autumn approaching, as was customary, the court should send officials to patrol the border to demonstrate the dynasty’s care for the soldiers stationed there.

The intention was well-meaning.

As emperor, Chu Xiong called for officials to volunteer.

Yet the entire court was deathly silent—neither civil nor military officials stepped forward.

When he named a few civil officials, they all declined, citing old age and frailty, fearing they wouldn’t survive the journey.

Chu Xiong understood well that this patrol duty demanded arduous travel; the nine border strongholds spanned months on foot, not to mention inspecting the garrisons.

By the time autumn arrived, these border posts were bitterly cold.

With this in mind, Chu Xiong felt it improper to send elderly men.

He then glanced at several young, strong editors from the Hanlin Academy, but each was rejected by Prince Su for being unfit.

At that moment, Chu Xiong’s face darkened. When he asked Prince Su for recommendations, the prince insisted it was best if a noble scion took on the role.

Thus, the emperor named nobles, the first being Xie Lin.

Yet the man didn’t utter a single word and was immediately dismissed by Prince Su.

No one in the court dared to object.

This spectacle made Chu Xiong grit his teeth in frustration.

Fortunately, Duke Cheng, Fang Jingsheng, who had grown up alongside him and had been virtually invisible since inheriting his title, stepped forward to accept the duty.

Surprisingly, Prince Su did not oppose this, granting the emperor a final modicum of face.

Reflecting on all this, Chu Xiong turned to Wang Bao beside him.

“Did you say that fellow opened a tavern?” he asked softly.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Wang Bao replied respectfully.

“Very well, inform the imperial kitchen that lunch need not be prepared,” the emperor said casually.

Then, donning plain clothes, he left the palace with Wang Bao.

Outside the palace, the East Market bustled with vendors shouting and a myriad of passersby.

“Tell me, are they truly happy?” Chu Xiong asked Wang Bao.

A smile flickered across Wang Bao’s face. “Your Majes—”

Before a word escaped, he slapped his own mouth, then said deferentially, “How could they not be? The Son of Heaven governs diligently, cares for his people; the common folk live in peace and prosperity.”

Chu Xiong shook his head slightly.

Wang Bao’s words sounded pleasant, but in truth, the capital thrived while the provinces of Dongshan and Xishan were overrun with refugees. The northern barbarians eyed Great Chu hungrily.

One misstep could unleash savage attacks like mad dogs. There was no such peace as Wang Bao described.

Meanwhile, in the backyard of the Immortal Drunkenness Tavern, Fang Yang paced with hands clasped behind his back, trying to appear dignified.

Before him stood several muscular, robust men.

“Not bad. I’m pleased,” Fang Yang said, nodding in approval.

“Heh heh, young master, these are fighters I specially purchased from the tooth trade according to your specifications. Each was a skilled soldier retired from the border troops, absolutely reliable,” the steward said respectfully.

“Retired border soldiers?” Fang Yang paused.

The steward pointed to the leader. “Come, tell the young master yourself.”

The man spoke plainly: “Sir, we once guarded the frontier, but after being wounded fighting barbarians, we were discharged. We belong to military households with no grain or land. The court’s allowance isn’t enough, so we must sell our labor to earn a living.”

“Fair enough. You want to earn money? Don’t worry, I have plenty. But you’ll need skills to lead,” Fang Yang said, scanning them carefully.

“Now, I will test your combat ability. You will pair off for one-on-one duels. The final winner becomes the team captain—and earns a reward of ten taels of silver!”

At these words, their eyes brightened.

Fang Yang, accompanied by Lian’er and the steward, quickly stepped back to a safe distance and declared, “Begin!”

“Yes, sir!”

The men immediately split into pairs, cracking their knuckles, eyes gleaming with desire for the silver.

Elsewhere, soon after leaving the palace, Chu Xiong and his party arrived at the entrance of the Immortal Drunkenness Tavern.

It was midday, the tavern’s busiest hour.

The entire first floor was packed.

Chu Xiong’s gaze fell upon a newly hung couplet in the main hall, and he was instantly captivated.

“This calligraphy!”

“The strokes are sharp and pointed, the tail hooks auspicious. The lines are slender yet elastic, the brushwork vigorous and incisive, the brilliance boldly exposed without concealment. Truly exquisite characters!”

“A customer with a discerning eye!” a waiter hurried over upon hearing Chu Xiong’s praise.

The plainclothes guards behind Chu Xiong instantly regarded the waiter with suspicion.

“Sir, would you like to dine in the hall or a private room?” the waiter asked with a broad smile.

“Of course, a private room. But who wrote this calligraphy?” Chu Xiong inquired with curiosity.

“Oh, that’s naturally by our young master. Please, right this way, gentlemen!” the waiter said, leading the way.

Chu Xiong nodded.

But before they took many steps, the waiter grinned and said, “Gentlemen, this couplet was penned by our young master, and he declared that anyone who can provide a matching lower line will receive half-price beverages whenever they dine here in the future!”

Hearing this, Chu Xiong frowned and glanced at Wang Bao.

Wang Bao raised an eyebrow and quickly smacked himself lightly.

“Sir, there was a guest earlier, so I omitted this part,” he explained.

Chu Xiong looked again at the calligraphy, then followed the waiter to the second floor.

Inside the private room, Wang Bao tossed down ten taels of silver arrogantly and declared, “Bring whatever delicacies and drinks you have!”

The waiter accepted the money but did not leave, standing awkwardly by the door.

“What’s the matter? Not enough?” Wang Bao frowned.

“Well... sir, that money is indeed insufficient. Here at Immortal Drunkenness, one pot of wine costs ten taels,” the waiter said, obviously troubled.

“Ten taels for one pot?” Wang Bao’s mouth twitched.

Chu Xiong’s brow jumped.

The waiter nodded quickly.

Wang Bao reluctantly produced another ingot of silver and handed it over.

Only then did the waiter leave happily.

After they departed, Wang Bao muttered resentfully, “Sir... Master, one pot of wine selling for ten taels—why doesn’t this prodigal just go rob someone?”

“Enough. Since it pains you so, I won’t scold you for keeping this from me,” Chu Xiong said, reading the eunuch’s thoughts plainly.

“Your humble servant, Lord Xie!” Wang Bao’s aged face crumpled into a frown.

“All right, now tell me everything you know,” Chu Xiong ordered.

Wang Bao complied eagerly, beginning to explain with animated gestures.