Volume III, Real Ancient Capital, Chapter 48: The Heavenly Kingdom
by Xiao Xiang Dong'Er | Translated and Arranged by Angel Chua
This year has been both lively and dramatic, with significant changes in history and major events unfolding. From the start, it was a bloodbath. Now, as he has grown up, he is seeking revenge against the Ninth King of the Great Summer Dynasty, throwing the land into chaos, followed by wars one after another. The devastation on the ancient Ximeng continent became a shocking blow to the Great Summer Dynasty, as various factions fought to carve out their own territories, trampling over the bodies of women and children in the process.
At the beginning of the year, the true emperor found himself caught in the greatest snowstorm ever recorded, hitting the ancient city on the 12th. As the biting cold wind whipped through the snow, a black-armored paladin rode slowly toward the true city.
"Father!" A fourteen-year-old child ran to the horse and shouted, "I see the flag of the Fourth Brother!"
The man, over fifty years old, had graying temples but did not appear aged. His facial features were hidden beneath a hood, leaving only a strong nose and tightly pressed lips visible. He wore a long, deep purple fur coat, the sable fox-tail collar covering his chin.
He didn't speak but slightly raised his head. His eyes pierced through the heavy snowfall, gazing into the distance.
For seven years, he had tirelessly honed his sword, and now it was finally time for it to leave its scabbard.
Zhuge's household and the other lords of the city had quietly gathered outside the East City. A light cavalry, humble in appearance, quietly entered through the south gate and parked inside. The soldiers, dressed in common blue cloth with fur hoods, rode on red horses. They appeared ordinary, but a chilling spirit seemed to follow them.
The team passed through Jiuwei Street, bypassing the bustling area near Red Lake and Lagerstroemia Plaza, stopping as only the White Army battalion remained. Leading the group was a man in black armor. He flicked off the snow from his cloak and, with several subordinates, walked effortlessly into the heavily guarded Tai'an Palace.
"Your Highness!" someone called out.
In the snow, the young Zhao Zhengde looked up, his brows frosted, his eyes sharp like swords. His face was cold and severe, marked by four years of border warfare. He frowned slightly and said coldly, "Old Eight?"
"He is under the guard of Zong Ren Tang," a man whispered, his voice low. "How do you fare with the poor?"
Several servants quickly knelt, trembling. "We are guilty, Your Highness."
Zhao Zhengde slowly narrowed his eyes and coldly said, "I know you're guilty. Why did you come to see me?"
He turned and continued walking, leaving behind a few pale-faced guards kneeling in the snow.
The snow grew heavier, the wind howling. A figure in a cloak suddenly spoke.
"Who is it?" the blue-robed guards shouted. The silhouette ahead stopped, snow covering its head, revealing only a hazy shadow. The figure, though thin, quickly knelt.
"Your Highness, it's a maid from the back hall," someone explained.
Zhao Zhengde nodded. Although this trip was meant to be discreet, he moved forward with his entourage.
A sudden gust blew the hat from his head, revealing long hair, some of it braided. His neck was pale and slender. Zhao Zhengde stepped on his hat, frowning slightly. He turned to see the person kneeling before him and said quietly, "Look up."
A handsome face met his gaze, the eyes dark and serene. Though dressed plainly, the person was striking.
Zhao Zhengde's brow furrowed slightly before relaxing into a light laugh. "One who traveled the road of the lowly has now entered the palace freely."
Chu Qiao kept her head lowered, calm, not responding.
Zhao Zhengde's eyes flicked over her as he kicked her hat back to her. Without a word, she turned and walked away.
The snow continued to fall, and Chu Qiao raised her head, seeing only a faint shadow. A weight seemed to press on her chest. How could this man still be alive in front of her?
She felt increasingly uneasy. Though six months remained before Yan Xun's plans would come to fruition, the tension was real.
That evening, the Holy Gold Palace held a grand banquet. Aside from celebrating the triumphant return of the army, it also honored the seventh prince, Zhao Che, who had traveled to recruit Zhuge's fourth son, Zhuge Yue. Now, he was already the deputy military commander.
Emperor Zhao Zhengde of the Great Summer was habitually absent from such events, leaving the Queen, Mu He, to represent the royal family. Though Zhao Che attended, the eighth prince, Zhao Jue, was noticeably absent, having been demoted to commoner status following his trial by the Zong Ren Tang.
"The bloody coups in history are like stones dropped into a lake. Not everyone can see their true size or shape, but only those who dare to dive deep can understand their depth," Yan Xun remarked as he pruned a plant in his pot, his head down, looking composed.
Chu Qiao pondered his words carefully and handed him a pair of scissors, speaking softly, "Does this mean Zhao Zhengde won't help the eighth prince, Zhao Jue?"
Yan Xun smiled faintly. "Mu He gave birth to two sons. She wants to rival Prince Wei, so she'll only support one. Zhao Jue has been cast aside for four years, so who knows if he still harbors loyalty to the royal family? That's the reality of Zhao's brotherhood."
A crisp sound interrupted the conversation as Yan Xun cut a stalk from a bluegrass flower. Chu Qiao watched in surprise as he discarded the stem without hesitation and began trimming another plant.
"For Mu He, they are like these plants—trimmed down to what remains useful," Yan Xun said, smiling.
Outside, the snow continued to fall. Chu Qiao suddenly realized that four years ago, Yan Xun's plan to frame Zhao Che had failed, offending the Wei faction and leading to their abandonment. Now, Mu He would do whatever was necessary to ensure the survival of her son.
"Don't worry," Yan Xun said, placing a hand gently on Chu Qiao's shoulder. "Zhao Che's downfall might not be such a bad thing. Didn't you once hate the Zhuge family for killing your brother and sister? Before we leave, we'll exact a bit of revenge."
Late at night, a carriage from the Zhuge family left Shen Jin Palace, heading to West Bay. Zhuge Mu Qing, a somewhat overweight but crafty man, led a group of sixty guards.
As Zhuge Yue arrived at Aoyama Courtyard, an umbrella was quickly raised over his head to protect him from the snow. A servant rushed over, saying, "Master, the doctor has just left. It's nothing serious."
Zhuge Yue's expression remained unchanged. He entered the study, where a hidden door revealed a secret chamber. Inside, a pale woman, chained and shivering, sat on the cold stone floor.
Once a feminine figure, Zhuge Yue had grown sharp and severe, the years having hardened him. He looked coldly at the woman, who glanced up with lonely, silent eyes.
"It's all family," Zhuge Yue sneered inwardly.
He raised an eyebrow and then turned to his men. "If you do this again, you will die alongside her."
The woman bit her lip, tears falling silently as the lights dimmed.
That night, the emperor's favored eighth prince, Zhao Jue, was secretly executed. His body was carried out of the Xi'an Gate and disappeared into the endless night. No one knew what crime he had committed, and no one sought answers. It was enough that Emperor Zhao Zhengde had ordered his death.
Seven days later, Prince Li Zheng Ce of Bian Tang arrived as a messenger to visit the Great Summer. His visit was also meant to select a princess for marriage, continuing the royal alliance. As the only child of the Tang King, Li Zheng Ce had little interest in power or fame, preferring poetry and beauty.
At this time, Chu Qiao didn't know who Prince Li Zheng Ce was or how their lives would become entwined in the future. She laughed as she placed the last piece of pastry before Yan Xun, saying, "I don't know who will win tomorrow's martial arts contest, but I know you'll be hungry."
Yan Xun smiled gently, his eyes gazing out the window at a pear tree standing proudly in the snow.
"A'Chu, do you remember the magnolia spring wine we buried under that tree?" he asked.
"Of course," Chu Qiao smiled. "We promised to drink it when we returned from the north."
Yan Xun closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I can almost smell the wine. Do you think I've been too hasty?"
Chu Qiao shook her head. "You've never been impatient. You've just waited too long."
As the sun set, casting a golden glow over the snowy landscape, the north wind began to blow across the vast, cold land.
"Xi'Er," a man dressed in luxurious robes called out from his carriage as it passed through the snow. "Your hand is cold."
Xi'Er smiled and gently pulled down the fabric of her dress, revealing her pale skin. "Let the prince warm Xi'Er," she said.
He reached out to her with a sly grin.
The next day, the Emperor woke up to a lively court.
Afterthoughts
Li Ce's character seems to represent both a new set of challenges and opportunities for the Great Summer Dynasty. His role, though still developing, will likely become central to the unfolding plot as he navigates the complex web of political alliances, personal vendettas, and royal expectations.
His contrast to the brutality of the other characters offers the possibility of a different path in the power struggles, one that may rely on diplomacy, culture, and subtle manipulation rather than outright force. However, given the ruthless nature of the world he is entering, it will be interesting to see how long he can maintain his sense of idealism—or if, like so many others, he will be consumed by the very power struggles he seems to avoid.