Zhong Zhao faithfully carried out the emperor’s instructions without the slightest deviation and then returned to the palace to submit his report, while Lu Lingcong and Xie Jing, left behind, went back to the study and spent the night tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.
Xie Jing naturally lacked experience in handling such matters and had no mature plan in mind. He merely forced himself to remain calm while telling Lu Lingcong, “I almost never touch the key to the sword chest. I won’t be taking that thing out to look at it again either.”
Lu Lingcong nodded. “I know. Saying that was just to give Zhong Zhao a hint.”
“Tell me,” Xie Jing asked, “is it really as Zhong Zhao suggested that this is His Majesty’s intention or is it simply another new test?”
Lu Lingcong thought for a moment. “Now that Emperor Father is unwell, he has not been seeing much of Mother Empress or my mother. Zhong Zhao, however, is the one attending him closely and remains at his side, so his implication is not without basis and does carry some weight; but we must never take it at face value or trust it completely.”
Xie Jing curled his lip. “If you ask me, given His Majesty’s temperament, there is no such thing as a good deed that you can see through to the bottom at a single glance. He simply wants to see if we can keep our composure.”
Lu Lingcong expressed his agreement. “If we lose our cool and spread word of this, the Prime Minister’s Mansion will naturally come to suppress us; and Emperor Father wouldn’t even have to lift a finger.”
“And it’s even more impossible to lose our cool and go ask His Majesty,” Xie Jing said immediately. “One never asks about such things, nor can one ever ask. The Son of Heaven bestows a gift upon you with a hidden meaning; if you accept it with caution and trepidation, it counts as a reward. But if you show that you have an interest in the matter, then it is treason. From ancient times to the present, haven’t all the monarchs who only ascended to the position of Crown Prince the moment the late Emperor ‘mounted the dragon and ascended to heaven’ lived through it in exactly this state of trembling fear?”
“The problem is back to square one.” Lu Lingcong rubbed the space between his eyebrows wearily. “What should we do? Just leave it locked away in the sword chest?”
Xie Jing walked over and raised his hands to gently massage the muscles of Lu Lingcong’s shoulders and back. Lu Lingcong tilted his head slightly, caught a faint fragrance in the air, and reached out to grasp Xie Jing’s sleeve. “Why do I smell sandalwood?”
“Those two dislike burning incense, they say the sweetness makes them dizzy, but they always like to cling to me and roll around whenever they get the chance. So, I had my clothes lightly scented with a bit of it; consider it a way for me to steal a little peace and calm whenever I can.”
Lu Lingcong closed his eyes to rest while enjoying Xie Jing’s gentle pressure for a moment. Then, he reached out to pull Xie Jing toward him and leaned back. The two of them fell back side-by-side onto the bed, both staring up at the roof beams with eyes wide open.
“Perhaps we don’t need to act as if we’re facing a formidable enemy or let ourselves get flustered,” Xie Jing said. “But at the very least, we cannot be entirely passive either. We can’t just lie here like this waiting for someone to come knocking at our door to pick up a fight.”
This was, in fact, an eternal truth. Lu Lingcong understood it perfectly, but while understanding was easy, finding a solution was difficult. “In a situation like this, if you want to seize the initiative, the most useful and direct way is to control the army. However, the factions behind the high-ranking officials of the Capital Garrison and the Imperial Guards are extremely complex. They each serve their own masters, keeping one another in check; it’s a chaotic mess internally, yet they stand as a solid monolith against outsiders. For me to try and intervene now would be harder than climbing to heaven.”
Xie Jing suddenly spoke, “Then… what if we raise our own troops?”
Lu Lingcong was stunned. He turned to look at Xie Jing in surprise. In his understanding, Xie Jing; who had grown up sheltered within a loving family and had always deeply cherished and valued his kin, was not someone who would readily, or willingly, propose a risky plan on his own initiative.
He naturally knew that Xie Jing was not referring to the mere dozens of domestic servants in Prince Zhao’s Mansion but to an elite private army; one with strict discipline, superior equipment, and the capability of one man standing against ten, that would answer only to their command.
This was a perilous undertaking that, in any dynasty or era, would be considered a supreme violation of the law; it was an arrow shot that could never be retrieved.
Lu Lingcong enumerated the requirements in detail: “To maintain an army, you need funds, iron for forging blades, grain and fodder, a training ground, and commanding officials. Most importantly, you need to recruit soldiers. Every one of these requirements creates a thousand tangled threads and countless opportunities for things to go wrong. To do this, one must be prepared to spend years of painstaking effort with the possibility of losing everything, and the even greater possibility of inviting utter destruction.”
Xie Jing remained silent for a long while, his expression tightening slightly. “How can you catch tiger cubs without entering the tiger’s den? There has never been anything in this world that didn’t require taking risks. Compared to facing a sudden catastrophe in the future while unarmed; being the fish and meat on someone else’s chopping block, I would rather take this risk. At least the matter of raising troops would be in our own hands; the enemy would be in the light while we remain in the shadows.”
Lu Lingcong sighed, clearly not entirely certain about this earth-shattering idea. He didn’t respond immediately but wordlessly reached out and brushed his fingers against Xie Jing’s cheek.
Xie Jing suddenly realized that Lu Lingcong’s usual decisiveness was not guiding his emotions or choices at this moment. The matter was of grave importance and certainly couldn’t be decided on a whim in a single night. Given Xie Jing’s limited life experience and worldly knowledge, he didn’t truly dare to have one hundred percent confidence that they would succeed.
He had no intention of putting pressure on Lu Lingcong either, “I don’t understand the way of raising and training an army. Whether it’s the decision or the execution, I will follow your lead. If you feel that victory is too hard to grasp amidst such danger, then act as if I never mentioned it. Everything is for you to decide.”
Lu Lingcong pondered for a moment and said candidly, “I have done my fair share of ‘warfare on paper,’ but Zhiwu, you know that I have never truly spent a single day on an actual battlefield.”
Xie Jing gazed deeply at him. They had known each other for a full ten years, and both of their temperaments had changed somewhat compared to their youth as sixteen or seventeen-year-olds. Xie Jing believed he understood Lu Lingcong well enough; although the latter was sophisticated in his dealings and often occupied the dominant position in controlling the development of events, never easily showing fear; at his core, he was not actually very confident.
He suspected this was rooted back to the emperor’s blatant and endless suspicion toward Lu Lingcong. When one never knows to what “degree” a task must be completed to be considered satisfactory, it is inevitable that, over time, one begins to doubt their own abilities.
“I have observed the wise rulers and capable generals of old; they did not all necessarily possess god-like talent, but they all certainly possessed the ability to recognize talent, the magnanimity to employ people effectively, and the means to win over hearts. In my mind, you are exactly such a person. You are a natural leader; you were born with the ability to make people believe in you and follow you willingly. I am the person closest to you; I trust your judgment and your courage, and I trust my own eyes.”
“If you are questioning whether this task can be done, then I have nothing to say. But if what you’re questioning is whether you can do it, then I’ll make this clear: as long as you are willing to do it, I will support you with everything I have, without hesitation or looking back. I don’t have much wealth, I can’t compare to the Prince’s Mansion or the Wu family, but aside from what I’ve set aside for Ningning that cannot be touched, I will give everything else I have to the last penny. Chen Commandery produces iron, and I can use official channels to find a way to have weapons forged. If there is not enough grain, I can personally go to the countryside and use funds to arrange credit purchases or buy it outright. If there isn’t enough space, I can offer up those vacant mansions to station the soldiers. As long as you need it, and as long as I can afford to give it, I will.”
This was, in fact, all Xie Jing could say. Only by standing behind Lu Lingcong with resilience and conviction, guarding his back without retreating a single step, could Lu Lingcong feel at ease hacking through the thorns and stride forward.
At this moment, they did not seem like a husband and wife sharing a common destiny but rather as if he were bringing his life and fortune to bet on a brilliant future by throwing his lot in with a lord he favored and respected.
Lu Lingcong remained silent for a long, long time, appearing moved, yet also somewhat burdened by this heavy entrustment.
“You must think this through,” he said while interlacing his fingers with Xie Jing’s, his voice filled with affection. “If this matter is leaked, forget being buried together in the same grave; it is not even certain we would leave behind intact corpses.”
Xie Jing’s eyes lit up with clarity. “But if this matter succeeds, then I, Xie Jing, will have the merit of having aided a rising dragon.”
Lu Lingcong was momentarily speechless, knowing that within those words, what Xie Jing truly cared about was not the “merit” but that “dragon.”
He flipped over to hover above Xie Jing, taking his chin and leaning in for a kiss. The lonely, aloof, and overbearing phoenix once carved into the screen wall of Linhai Hall now lay beneath him, obediently embracing his back and rubbing temples with him in intimacy.
“My Prince Consort, my virtuous wife, my dear brother,” Lu Lingcong called to him with a touch of helplessness. “You truly are… how can you be so candid? If I had even the slightest dishonorable intention, wouldn’t you be the type to be sold by me and still rush to help me count the gold?”
Xie Jing gave a muffled snort. “Then consider it a case of me meeting the wrong person; I’ll just accept my bad luck. But don’t think you’ll have it easy either—you spent ten years painstakingly acting out how deep your affection is for me. Even if you were faking it, even if I am schemed to death by you in the future, you will never be able to forget me for the rest of your life.”
Lu Lingcong covered his mouth. “Don’t use such inauspicious words.”
Their bodies overlapped as they reclined on the bed, entwined in a mix of playfulness and flirtation while caressing each other until they were breathless. Lu Lingcong had removed his shirt while Xie Jing had been stripped of his inner layers, leaving only a single, long, trailing nightgown.
“I’ve got it.” Xie Jing suddenly sat up and straddled Lu Lingcong. “I know how to stall His Majesty for now.”
Lu Lingcong frowned, his fingers idly tracing the mole behind Xie Jing’s Achilles tendon. “Are you sure you want to discuss this right now?”
“Not just talk, we have to write it too,” Xie Jing urged him. “You have to write it personally. Hurry, I’ll prepare the brush and ink for you.”
Lu Lingcong had no choice but to walk barefoot to the desk in the outer room and sit down. Xie Jing loosely gathered his robe and stood to one side. “Advise His Majesty that the Second Prince has come of age and has been diligent in his studies; there is no need to keep him confined to the palace anymore. He should appropriately attend court sessions, get involved in the affairs of various departments and ministries, and start preparing for the establishment of his own mansion and an imperial marriage.”
“Those words are exactly what Empress Mother would love to hear,” Lu Lingcong said as he wrote. “It’s just that she certainly cannot be the one to bring it up herself.”
Xie Jing tucked back his sleeves and ground the ink for him. “That’s why it must be said through your mouth. Furthermore, it must be delivered to His Majesty’s eyes early tomorrow morning. We can’t let him continue to treat the Second Prince like a mere child.”
“But even if Emperor Father agrees to let Lingzhang come out, he might not necessarily get his hands dirty himself. More likely than not, the Prime Minister’s Mansion will usurp his name and use the ‘Second Prince’ banner to further their own convenience.”
“That’s exactly how it should be. There’s no reason for us, the Xie and Wu families, to be constrained and walking on eggshells all day long while they run rampant without restraint. In the past, His Majesty only refrained from constantly warning and ‘reminding’ the Prime Minister’s Mansion because the Second Prince was young and had no connection to the court. Since he likes watching crickets fight, I’ll show him how to play. If there’s only one cricket moving around in the jar while the other plays dead all day, where’s the fun in that?”
When Lu Lingcong finished writing, he pushed the memorial aside to let the ink dry and moved his chair back slightly. Xie Jing slipped sideways into the gap between him and the desk while propping his hands behind him and sitting directly on the edge of the table. He lifted one foot, bracing it against Lu Lingcong’s knee, and slid it forward as lithely and skillfully as a snake, finally coming to rest; light as a dragonfly touching water, between Lu Lingcong’s legs before using the sole of his foot to stroke through the fabric back and forth.
“Right here?” Lu Lingcong suppressed a gasp as he gripped Xie Jing’s waist with some force.
“Right here.” Xie Jing placed one hand against the side of Lu Lingcong’s face, suddenly hooking a stray lock of hair with his pinky finger so that it fell loosely by Lu Lingcong’s temple.
“Like I said, I trust my own eyes,” Xie Jing murmured as he gazed at him intently for a long moment while teasing him slightly with his foot. “Where else could I find someone this handsome?”
Not many days later, Lu Lingzhang indeed officially bid farewell to his days of living deep within the inner palace and burying himself in his studies. With the emperor’s tacit permission, he began to frequent the frontline of the imperial court. After Lu Lingcong had established his own mansion, he had actually spent a period as something of a vagrant; it wasn’t until after his marriage that he slowly became involved in politics, and even then, it was only whenever the emperor remembered him and assigned him a random errand. But when it came to Lu Lingzhang, the emperor simply did not have the energy to exercise precise control over him; with the Wang family handling everything down to the smallest detail, his position was completely different from Lu Lingcong’s former “empty title without real authority.”
At the same time, Prince Zhao and Princess Consort Zhao significantly reduced their visits to the palace while appearing in public much more often. In the past, they would decline invitations out of impatience whenever possible; now, they accepted everyone. Their family banquet for the Dragon Boat Festival in the fifth month was packed with distinguished guests. However, the Prince’s Mansion only joined in the excitement of eating, drinking, and playing; when it came to serious invitations for building connections or seeking favors, they simply played dumb and acted as if they had never received them.
Furthermore, the two of them would head to Qinhuai Chun in the middle of the night carrying several jars of Meishan Snow Liquor, lock themselves in an upstairs room, and drink the night away. If the wine ran out by morning, they went home to sleep; if there was still some left, they kept drinking.
Consequently, rumors spread through Jinling that Prince Zhao and his Princess Consort were “indulging in wine and carnal desires.” However, this description wasn’t entirely accurate either. After all, the two of them didn’t cause trouble for outsiders, nor did they engage in debauchery with prostitutes. When they were drunk, they simply indulged in each other’s “charms,” leaving others with little ground to criticize or intervene.
However, there were still one or two people in the capital who possessed both the status and the courage to “intervene.” After a month of enduring the unendurable, the Eldest Princess Lu Lingzhen arrived at the second floor of Qinhuai Chun with a whip gripped backward in one hand and Lu Shuning held in the other, radiating an aura that suggested she would slay any god or Buddha in her path.
“Lu Zifeng!” Lu Lingzhen gathered her breath and roared in fury. “Lu Lingcong! Get out here!”
Like a gale driving waves, she searched through the private rooms on the second floor before finally locking onto the most spacious room facing the street. She kicked the door open, and the “elegant poise” of Prince Zhao and his Princess Consort was revealed to every onlooker in Qinhuai Chun without any buffer.
It wasn’t exactly scandalous, but it was certainly unseemly. One was drunk to the point of lying face-up while leaning back against the second-floor railing in a way that made people worry he might fall over at any moment; the other was unconscious, most of his body curled into the other party’s embrace. Inside the room, the scent of wine and incense mingled into a pungent assault on the nose.
Lu Lingzhen raised her whip and delivered several sharp ‘cracks’ precisely against the corner of the table. “Look at this, everyone! Our Prince Zhao has truly become godlike now! He doesn’t care about the Emperor Father or the Empress Mother, he doesn’t want his mansion anymore, and he doesn’t even care about his own children! Instead, he drags my sister-in-law into fooling around with these wine jars in broad daylight! Just look at you; you’re so drunk you hardly look human!”
Lu Shuning was very quick on the uptake; she sat down right then and there and began to wail at the top of her lungs.
The sound of crying acted like an instinctive trigger, jolting the deeply sleeping Xie Jing awake. He abruptly shot up from Lu Lingcong’s chest, stared blankly for three seconds, and then slowly recognized Lu Shuning’s face. He broke into a smile. “…Ningning is here. Don’t cry, Mother is over here.”
He reached out his arms, but Lu Shuning moved faster than a rabbit, jumping straight into her aunt’s arms. She pinched her nose. “I don’t want Mother to hold me.”
Lu Lingzhen marched over to the railing, grabbing Lu Lingcong by the collar and hauling him up. “Do you even recognize where your home is? Huh?”
Lu Lingcong pointed downward. Lu Lingzhen poked her head out to look and laughed out of sheer anger. “That’s a river down there! Are you the River God or the Water Dragon King?”
The two of them were genuinely drunk without a hint of falseness, and their state required no acting. Lu Lingzhen couldn’t move them both by herself, but fortunately, they didn’t need her to; they stumbled and swayed their way into the carriage.
Upon returning to the Prince’s Mansion, Yin Chou took Lu Shuning and tried to call for servants to help, but Lu Lingcong and Xie Jing waved them off in unison, insisting they weren’t drunk and didn’t need help. She could only watch as the two leaned on and clung to each other,l while staggering and dragging their feet as they swayed back toward the inner courtyard.
As they passed the study, Lu Shuqing happened to look up, and his gaze met his parents’; both of whom clearly had no idea what year it was. On seeing him, Lu Lingcong leaned against the doorframe to steady himself, while Xie Jing relied entirely on Lu Lingcong’s arm for support.
In a coaxing voice that even Lu Shuning no longer fell for, Lu Lingcong said, “Qing’er… good boy. Sorry, so sorry. Father and Mother drank too much and woke you up. We’re leaving now…”
Xie Jing mumbled in agreement, “We are going, we are going, leaving right now.”
With that, the two draped their arms over each other’s shoulders to depart. However, as they turned, the world began to spin; they nearly tripped over one another and started staggering back toward the front courtyard.
Seeing them about to undo all their progress, Lu Shuqing couldn’t bear to watch anymore. He pressed his hand to his forehead. “… Father, Mother, you’re going the wrong way. The bed is that way.”
