Volume One: The Hidden Dragon in the Abyss Chapter 85: Blind Date

Zhong Bo secretly took Xu Wei to Yang City, and Tian Xingzi, unable to show his face, accompanied them as well. With their presence, nothing major was likely to go wrong.

Left behind were Yang Hao and Duan Changfeng, as someone was still needed to handle social affairs.

The group headed south, but before reaching Yang City, they encountered several dozen officials from the capital who had come out to welcome them, traveling scores of miles beyond the city gates.

For anyone else, such a grand reception so far from the city would have been a breach of protocol.

Thus, it had been many years since the people of Jin had witnessed such a spectacle.

Leading the group was the Prime Minister, Sun Xinchong, whom Wang Chuan was not particularly familiar with.

It was said that Sun Xinchong excelled at collecting bribes and selling positions, though he was not aligned with the Fourth Prince’s faction, instead being a leader of the neutrals.

Now that Wang Chuan had returned, at the emperor’s command, Sun Xinchong could hardly afford to be negligent—if anything, excessive ceremony was permissible.

No sooner had Wang Chuan’s carriage pulled up before the officials than, following their bows, a number of high-ranking officials dressed in court robes stepped forward to personally lead his horse, and a cacophony of flattery immediately erupted.

“Your Highness, tales of your brilliance and valor in the Yu and Wei kingdoms have shaken the capital to its core; from government halls to the common markets, all are in awe and admiration of you!”

“Your Highness possesses unparalleled talent in both civil and martial arts. We have long awaited you here, and to witness your grace and bearing is our greatest fortune. I most enjoy studying your poetry—indeed, I burn the pages and swallow the ashes…”

“Your Highness truly has the aura of a wise sovereign…”

Wang Chuan did not show himself, unaccustomed to such occasions.

In Yu, he had been treated as a hostage prince, never receiving such effusive welcomes or flattery.

Those in government might know something of recent events, but there was no way such tales could have spread to the common folk so quickly.

With the ruler of Jin on the throne, was the officialdom still so given to excess? He wondered about the current state of Jin’s bureaucracy.

Even the saying, “the prettiest young ladies in Yang City speak only of the Duke of Wei in their boudoirs,” was bandied about—as if he had eavesdropped outside their chambers, or perhaps it was their daughters who wished to marry into the imperial line.

Once the crowd’s enthusiasm had reached its peak, Sun Xinchong formally stepped forward again. “I met Your Highness several times in your youth—steady and composed, never revealing your emotions, already displaying the makings of a wise ruler.”

“Prime Minister, your praise is too much. If someone heard you, they might think you’re in league with me,” Wang Chuan replied with calm indifference.

“Your Highness jests,” Sun Xinchong said. “His Majesty awaits you in the palace.”

Sun Xinchong was about sixty, his forehead broad and full. According to physiognomy, such a face indicated a good birth and a comfortable early life. At his age, if he had practiced martial arts or breath-cultivation, he would still be robust and vigorous.

He came from an official family, had been idle and pleasure-seeking in youth, but later strove for advancement in his career…

He seemed gentle and always greeted others with a smile.

Outside the palace gates, a middle-aged man of striking presence had been waiting for some time.

All others bowed as one.

Wang Chuan was about to bow as decorum required, but the man came forward to stop him. “No need for that. My son, you’ve done well, brought glory to our kingdom.”

“Father, you are too kind; it was my duty,” Wang Chuan replied.

“Let us return to the palace. It’s been so long—I want to look at you properly,” said the ruler of Jin. “I’ve had your residence cleaned and arranged for your return, no need to rush home. In those days, I lived there for over a decade myself.”

As they walked toward the palace, the ruler of Jin sighed. “Xiaochuan, you will surpass me—you already have.”

“Father, you overpraise. You too have your own strengths that others cannot match,” Wang Chuan replied.

“Perhaps it’s because we haven’t seen each other in so many years that it feels less close than when you were a child. Are you still holding a grudge against me for all these years of neglect?” the ruler of Jin asked. “When Qi Hao brought word of you, I was deeply worried. Thankfully, you were unharmed in the end, and I was greatly relieved.”

For many years, the ruler of Jin had not referred to himself in such familiar terms, but today it felt perfectly natural, as if he had rehearsed it many times.

At this moment, he could set aside his imperial role and felt less weary.

“I have disappointed Your Majesty,” Wang Chuan said earnestly. “I have long been ashamed to return and face you.”

“It’s nothing—everyone has their own thoughts. But if you had told me in advance, I would never have blamed you,” the ruler of Jin replied. “By the way, have you met your fourth brother? I believe you’ve never seen him; he was just a child back then. Now, he is capable and relieves me of many burdens—his mind is as broad as rivers and mountains. Xiaochuan, you should help share my burdens as well.”

“I fear I am not equal to the task. Besides, my only pursuit is the martial path,” Wang Chuan said. “Your Majesty need not place such hopes on me.”

“Is it that you do not wish to, or that you are unwilling?” the ruler of Jin asked, frowning in puzzlement. “Never mind—you’ve just returned; it’s too soon to speak of these things. Whatever happened in the past is over now—let it go. Those who aspire to greatness must set aside private grievances and bring virtue to the world!”

“I will remember that,” Wang Chuan nodded.

“My son, look at this grand hall—only we may stand atop it, overlooking all! The multitudes bow below—this is power, this is status.”

The ruler of Jin paused, gazing up at the long flight of steps ahead.

Wang Chuan nodded as well; in this respect, he could not disagree.

Yet in this world, there was nowhere he could not go.

The two ascended slowly, step by step.

“The first time I climbed these steps, I understood: every step must be taken with utmost caution, as if treading on thin ice. One never knows who may push or pull you, or who, while smiling to your face, waits to stab you in the back,” the ruler of Jin explained as they walked. “Even when you stand at the top, you must beware of those who would drag you down. The higher you stand, the harder the fall—perhaps even to your destruction.”

“Yet despite this, countless people scramble to climb higher, shedding blood in the struggle.”

Such is the allure of power.

Wang Chuan was moved as well.

“Xiaochuan, what is it that you desire?” the ruler of Jin asked.

“To hold the winds and clouds in my grasp, to claim the world as I please,” Wang Chuan replied.

He raised his hand, swirling the air as the skies above darkened with storm clouds pressing down on the city, only to clear just as quickly.

The officials turned pale, and the commoners trembled in fear.

“Excellent, you have grown so powerful—there is no one left who can stand against you,” the ruler of Jin exclaimed. “You are far mightier than your mother. When she needed to save Wei, she still had to borrow troops from me—her wings were not yet fully grown, a dragon lying in wait. She needed outside help. But you—there is nothing in this world that can hinder you now, is there?”

“I have no memory of that,” Wang Chuan shook his head.

“Of course—you were still in swaddling clothes then. Xiaochuan, the people of the world may be curious, but have you ever wondered why a woman like your mother was willing to marry me?” the ruler of Jin asked earnestly.

“I have wondered, but have not found the answer,” Wang Chuan replied.

The ruler of Jin, after all, was neither accomplished in martial arts nor particularly successful as a sovereign. He was not a remarkable figure in the annals of kings.

Wang Chuan earnestly recalled his childhood impressions of his father.

Nothing stood out.

“Never mind, we can talk about it another time,” the ruler of Jin said with a smile, his tone meaningful.

He led Wang Chuan past the main hall into the imperial study.

“A prince should have his own household and estate—you already do. Some outstanding princes serve as ministers or govern a province, but you have no need of that,” the ruler of Jin said, seating himself on the dragon throne. “By Jin custom, the crown prince acts as regent. From now on, come here each day; there are many matters on which you can advise me.”

Every memorial was a matter of state.

Each concerned the welfare of countless people.

Wang Chuan was startled. “I know nothing of such things.”

“I can teach you. But you’ve just returned—rest for now, there’s no rush. Next, you should meet some people,” the ruler of Jin said. “You’re already twenty, while others have long been married. I have neglected you, failed to care for you. No matter—whatever you desire, you may have.”

At this, he summoned those waiting outside, and they filed in.

Wang Chuan’s brow furrowed at once—something was wrong.

As they took their places and bowed, he frowned again, catching sight of the two young women present.

They had been introduced as his cousins, both princesses.

The Li family’s daughter was famous for her talent; at three, she could recite verses, at ten, compose essays. She had studied the classics, philosophies, and histories—Confucius, Mozi, Laozi, Zhuangzi, and all the schools of thought.

Now past sixteen, many noble families had sought her hand, yet she had accepted none.

Summoned by the ruler of Jin, she had come gladly.

She was pale and lovely, delicate and fragile, arousing protective feelings. She approached gracefully, with dainty steps and wide sleeves gathered before her chest, her finely arched brows slightly furrowed—a rare beauty combining talent and charm, the pride of the Grand Princess’s household.

Her gaze toward Wang Chuan was filled with tender affection, as soft as flowing water.

The other young woman was about fourteen, her beauty just blooming, charming and sweet. Though of similar age, she possessed an ineffable allure, her cheeks tinted with a faint blush. Under her dark hair were exquisite brows, long lashes, bright eyes, a refined nose, and slightly parted lips, her chin rounded. Below that, beneath her formal gown, was a fullness at odds with her youth, as if the peaches had ripened early.

“Xiaochuan, what do you think?” the ruler of Jin asked.

Already twenty, Wang Chuan had delayed too long. Further postponement would be improper.

The ruler of Jin had long been anxious about the matter.

“Your Majesty, my aspirations do not lie here,” Wang Chuan replied earnestly.

“My life’s pursuit is not love between man and woman. Others may not understand, but it doesn’t matter—these things need not trouble the family,” Wang Chuan said. “Let it follow its course.”

“You shouldn’t say that. I’ve heard my son is versed in Buddhist teachings and has impressed eminent monks,” the ruler of Jin urged. “You know, even the Buddha had a wife and son—Rahula, who later became one of his ten great disciples.”

“As for cultivation, marriage and children are no hindrance—no one can control you.”

Wang Chuan shook his head. On this, he could not compromise.

But what was the purpose of today’s arrangement? What was truly intended?

He found himself unable to see through his father’s intentions—was this merely a test?