Volume One: The Hidden Dragon in the Abyss Chapter Six: Abandonment

"I want to return home as well, to serve steadily as crown prince, and one day ascend the throne!" Wang Chuan growled in a low voice, clenching his fist with renewed resolve.

"Good," Zhao Qingrong nodded softly. "The greatest fear for a man is to be without ambition—like a reed in the wind, breaking at the slightest bend. But your father, your uncle, those indomitable men, they are the ones who stand above all. What they endured in their day is beyond your imagination. So what if you face a small setback today?"

"As long as you wish to fight, my Zhao family will support you, and we will win the backing of Marquis Wucheng as well," Zhao Qingrong declared, her tone unwavering. "If you want to train, I will give you the finest elixirs and the best techniques. With my family's support, you will be second to none among the imperial princes. But if you lack the will, even if fate stands with you, it will come to nothing!"

"I understand. I won't let you down," Wang Chuan replied cautiously, but it was as if he had shed an old skin, standing transformed. "If I ascend the throne, I will ennoble your family as kings, grant you lands a thousand miles wide. I—I…" Wang Chuan fixed his gaze on her, suddenly rising to take her hand with earnest sincerity. "I will also make you my empress, and together we will rule the realm!"

Zhao Qingrong regarded him, then broke into a radiant smile, as if a warm breeze had brought the vigor of spring.

She stepped back and bowed. "Thank you, Your Highness."

"It’s nothing; you deserve it," Wang Chuan’s eyes betrayed a hint of desire.

"Please look, Your Highness." Zhao Qingrong produced a secret manual and a bottle of pills from her sleeve, their fragrance lingering in the air. "These are the Vitality Pill and the Foundation Pill. You are too weak now, your cultivation must improve. And this is your Jin Kingdom’s royal secret art, the Nine Dragons Qi, cultivated by true dragon emperors! It is said that once mastered, you command nine dragons to ride the sun, invincible under heaven."

"Even if you strive to catch up, the gap between you and the other princes is immense. You must take a different path—awaken your bloodline, convince His Majesty you are the true dragon emperor, the finest heir!"

"Very well, I’ll accept them," Wang Chuan said with delight.

"Then I’ll take my leave," Zhao Qingrong replied.

"Is that all?" Wang Chuan was taken aback. "The night is long—why not stay, Qingrong, and plan further with me?"

"No need. I must return home and report. Just remember today’s words, Your Highness," Zhao Qingrong said earnestly. "My Zhao family will always support you."

"Take care, then. You must come visit me again," Wang Chuan said, reluctant to see her go.

But before she had even left, he was already eagerly clutching the pills and manual, dashing back to his study.

Loyal Uncle waited quietly, never speaking out of turn.

There were many things he didn’t know, nor did he need to—that was why he was a trusted confidant.

All he needed was to trust Wang Chuan.

Wang Chuan handed him the pills.

Then he took the manual—

And burned it…

"Those who think others are fools are the true fools."

He knew very well that he did possess the true dragon bloodline, but it was difficult to awaken. If, by some twist of fate, it were awakened, he could become a master in a short time—but that held no appeal for him…

Why were these people so fond of playing clever games?

The ugly duckling was once scorned and ridiculed by all, but the day would come when it shed all impurity, and then, by comparison, everyone would see who was truly the greatest joke.

Wang Chuan sneered coldly again and again.

"Loyal Uncle, do you know Lü Buwei?" Wang Chuan asked.

"I haven’t had much chance to read, but I’ve heard stories, remember a bit," Loyal Uncle seemed to understand his meaning. "Are you the Exile, Your Highness?"

Given the Zhao family’s wealth…

Given the similar circumstances of the two…

"Nonsense. This time I’m the one casting them aside. Everyone comes to test me, thinking they can name their price—what a joke!" Wang Chuan shook his head. "I am Wang Chuan. Naturally, I will have my own legend. Don’t come groveling and fawning over me in the future."

Yes, yes, Your Highness is always right.

Loyal Uncle played along.

"The Zhao family does produce talent, sending someone to test me. If they can support me, fine; if not, abandon me… I detest those who are both stupid and try to show off their wits before me," Wang Chuan sighed. "Enough, let fate end here. See how much money we still have in the house—convert it all to banknotes and sew them into the linings of our robes, in case we need to flee one day, just as a precaution."

Wang Chuan thought a moment longer. "Sew two notes for me as well, in case we get separated…"

…

When Zhao Qingrong returned home, the first thing she did was wash her hands.

She washed over and over the hand that Wang Chuan had held.

The servants thought she must have touched something filthy.

She used two full tubs of water, the copper basins dented from her efforts.

Her hands were soft and delicate, yet possessed a terrifying destructive power.

"Rong’er, what’s wrong?" her father, Zhao Yu, came over, looking rather helpless.

"Wang Chuan is beyond saving," Zhao Qingrong said, drying her hands with a towel.

"Then let him go," Zhao Yu sighed again, even more exasperated.

This was his most outstanding child, the undisputed number one among the Zhao family’s younger generation.

Since childhood, she had been raised at the side of her grandfather, then the family head, absorbing the wisdom of every school, excelling in both civil and martial arts, and prided herself on her brilliance.

He naturally trusted her judgment.

She had already managed affairs several times, bringing great benefit to the family.

"I heard that years ago, your sixth uncle often traded jade on the western border—a raw stone, until cut open, could never be known whether it contained jade. Yet some who recognize jade can almost always profit…" Zhao Qingrong chuckled softly. "Back when our Zhao merchant guild was chosen by His Majesty, everyone thought we held the emperor’s jade in our hands."

"We’ve observed Prince Wang Chuan for over ten years. Jade can be false. Even when a raw stone is cut, certainty is elusive—your sixth uncle himself would never brag of never making a mistake," Zhao Yu consoled. "A misjudgment is just that—cut your losses in time. Our family is wealthy; wins and losses are nothing. That’s the way of commerce."

"He is no Exile, so we need not play Lü Buwei," Zhao Qingrong said. "But this isn’t just about losing a piece of jade. If we had managed to support Wang Chuan… Now the world knows we back the crown prince, but he has no hope of becoming emperor. One day, when a new ruler takes the throne, we’ll be purged, reduced to a third-rate merchant guild."

"Your grandfather often said a moment’s victory or defeat means little. We have managed affairs for years, and the world is vast—there is more than Wei and Jin. We never put all our eggs in one basket," Zhao Yu said. "We can always cut our losses and seek a comeback. The setbacks of two kingdoms won’t shake our foundations, but we must start preparing…"

"If necessary, we can pledge allegiance to Wei’s ruler. We made the wrong choice in Jin’s succession—now it's too late to withdraw, and this label cannot be removed. It’s most taboo to shift allegiances; even if we try to side with another prince, we will never be trusted. The cost outweighs the gain," Zhao Qingrong sneered. "But we can involve ourselves in Wei’s succession."

"This…" Zhao Yu was startled.

It was a bold idea.

"In business, only profit is eternal—Grandfather taught me that," Zhao Qingrong said. "Opportunities always come with risk."

"This must be carefully discussed, Rong’er. You make a good point," Zhao Yu nodded, feeling it was worth consideration. He asked, "Is Prince Wang Chuan truly so mediocre?"

"Only some petty cleverness, and his bloodline is flawed, so his achievements in martial or spiritual arts will be limited," Zhao Qingrong replied.

She recounted what happened earlier.

"Then he doesn’t seem stupid—he’s biding his time," Zhao Yu mused.

"No, his actions prove his true foolishness. Anyone with sense would see the gap between himself and the other princes—differences in talent that no pill or training can bridge. Others are at one level, he at another. As for awakening his bloodline, it’s a hopeless fantasy," Zhao Qingrong sneered. "If he were truly clever, he’d have mocked me, saying a man must strive on his own, not always seeking shortcuts or unearned gains."

"Then I would have looked at him with new eyes. But as it stands, he only plays the fool for small advantage, blinded by immediate gain, unable to resist even the slightest temptation—disaster can’t be far off."

"If the two kingdoms do not go to war, he might just survive in Luocheng. Otherwise, whether he returns home or stays, who will keep him safe?"

Zhao Yu sighed again. "All our investment of more than ten years…"

"We’ve already received the Jin ruler’s order—withdraw!" Zhao Qingrong said.

"I wonder what order Wang Chuan received?" Zhao Yu mused.

"His Majesty must be deeply disappointed. Back then he sent us with Wang Chuan, giving him ample financial support. If he had managed affairs diligently, he might have succeeded. But after so many years, he has shown nothing special…"

"He was almost killed by a handful of third-rate assassins, never mind finding his own way home…"

…

Wang Chuan fell ill—gravely ill.

The news first spread from the palace maids sent to care for him.

Though Wang Chuan never let them set foot in the inner courtyard—especially with dozens of loyal guards recently stationed at his doors, authorized to kill intruders on sight.

There was no physician in the residence, though Loyal Uncle had gone out cautiously to bring back an eminent doctor. But in these circles there are no secrets; soon, everyone knew.

Loyal Uncle tried to claim he himself was sick, even shamelessly saying the treatment was to restore his manhood.

Others only marveled at the servant’s devotion. Years ago, he had used Zhao family funds to help the needy in the city, trying to establish a foothold.

It was quite successful: the Jin crown prince was well-liked here, partly because of his mother.

Had Jin not seized Yan Prefecture, things would have remained peaceful.

Wang Chuan, in name, had come to Wei to study, with the agreement that he could return home upon coming of age.

But the Wei ruler delayed him with every excuse, never allowing a visit home.

Now he was nearly grown, even his marriage prospects unsettled.

More than ten years had passed.

Today, the secret could no longer be kept.

The earlier assassination attempt, though unsuccessful, had shaken him.

The Jin crown prince was truly ill, so the talk went in every street and alley—even after only two days.

Meanwhile, another major event: Qi Haoming was to enter the capital tomorrow.

He was a man no Wei person could bring themselves to hate.

He was born in Wei; when the border was raided by barbarians, his family was destroyed.

He served in the army for years without recognition.

Later, he went to Jin, where the ruler valued him greatly, promoting him rapidly. He led troops north to battle the barbarians, won many victories, earned his title!

The people of Wei, in their hearts, knew Qi Haoming had done them no wrong.

But the emotions were too tangled. This time, he was coming as Jin’s envoy.

And everyone knew the Jin ruler’s will was never to return what had been taken.

So a man like him was needed to go through the motions, to stage a negotiation…

These days were especially critical. Loyal Uncle carried out every order from Wang Chuan to the letter.

All the more, he could not guess Wang Chuan’s true intentions.

If His Highness was feigning illness, it would not fool anyone for long…

He chose not to ask, simply trusting Wang Chuan.

He had never been one to speak out of turn, nor to overthink things.

If he knew nothing, he could reveal nothing, and Wang Chuan would be safer.

Still, every midnight, he would jolt awake, tiptoe to wait outside the study door, guarding carefully.

"Princess, you saved my life once—if I can, I’ll gladly lay it down for you. Please watch over His Highness…"

He waited anxiously until mealtime, then went to prepare the food.

Wang Chuan ate promptly, four meals a day.

With little else to do, this gave Loyal Uncle four chances to see him.

Every time he took out the chamber pot and urinal, he found them empty these past few days.

Ah, our prince no longer relieves himself.

Still, he scrubbed everything thoroughly and set the spares back in the study…

This time, when he brought in breakfast, Wang Chuan still wore that unfathomable air.

But now he looked truly ill, enough to give Loyal Uncle the illusion he was caring for a patient.

I believe it, he thought.

Then Wang Chuan called for him, finally giving an instruction. "Take my letter, written by my own hand, to see Marquis Wucheng. Go in person, and deliver it to him yourself! I have much to say to my father. You must see Marquis Wucheng…"