Chapter 1122: The Truest Feelings in the Imperial Family
Wang Zhice left the capital, and no one knew when he would next emerge from the Galan Ancient Temple.
Shang Xingzhou also returned to Luoyang and did not leave the Changchun Observatory for many years thereafter.
Before that, he had a conversation with Yuren in the imperial palace.
The first words Yuren said to him were: "That night when the Saintess entered the palace late, I promised her nothing."
That same night, the Prince of Chenliu traveled day and night to reach Luoyang.
Shang Xingzhou remained silent, and so it came to this day.
In a sense, he had fallen into Xu Yourong's trap.
Xu Yourong had borrowed momentum and attacked the heart.
Yuren's meaning was very clear—if you truly harbored suspicions about me, you could have asked me beforehand.
Shang Xingzhou had not asked, and on this point, he had given Xu Yourong his reasoning at the Heavenly Book Mausoleum.
—Luoyang had received no letter from the palace.
Many days had passed, enough time to write a heartfelt letter, but Yuren had not sent a single word.
Yuren said, "If the Taizong Emperor were still alive, what would he have done? Would he have taken the initiative to write a letter?"
From the old temple in Xining Town, or even earlier, Shang Xingzhou had begun teaching Yuren how to become an excellent emperor.
In Shang Xingzhou's view, and as the entire continent acknowledged, the most outstanding emperor in history was naturally the Taizong Emperor.
He hoped Yuren would become the second Taizong Emperor, so naturally, he had to learn or imitate him in everything, day after day.
When facing the most complex and difficult choices, it was very normal for Yuren to imagine how the Taizong Emperor would act.
The answer was obvious.
The Taizong Emperor would absolutely never take the initiative to write a letter to Luoyang.
"You did well."
Shang Xingzhou looked at Yuren, his expression gratified.
"But you haven't done enough. At this point, the Taizong Emperor would have shown more self-blame, perhaps even issued an edict of self-criticism."
The wind and snow had long since stopped, and the breath of spring had returned to the earth. The palace square was wet with melting snow, and from a distance, one could see the fresh green shoots in the cracks of the stones.
Yuren watched the figure gradually disappearing into the twilight, recalling their earlier conversation, and said softly, "I am far inferior to my grandfather."
There might be many ways in which he fell short of his grandfather, such as in hypocrisy.
For example, he could not resolve the problem between Shang Xingzhou and Chen Changsheng.
"Teacher is ultimately growing old."
Yuren thought of the gray at Shang Xingzhou's temples that he had just seen, and his mood grew low.
Eunuch Lin looked at the emperor's profile and suddenly felt a pang of sadness.
From his entry into the palace during the previous emperor's reign to now, he had grown old and witnessed many things, yet he increasingly failed to understand the thoughts of the younger generation.
Whether it was the young emperor or the young Pope.
They all deeply respected elders like Wang Zhice and Shang Xingzhou.
But they were determined to defeat the other, to utterly vanquish them.
Why was that?
...
...
Today, Mount Mo had collapsed.
Mount Ji thus became the highest peak near the capital.
The Prince of Zhongshan gazed at the distant sunset, squinting sharply.
As soon as the result from the National Academy was announced, he had left the Hundred Flowers Lane.
He did not want to kneel to Chen Changsheng, nor did he wish to remain in the capital.
Shang Xingzhou had admitted defeat, and the days for the princes of the Chen family were bound to grow increasingly difficult.
He decided to return to his fief and was now waiting for the imperial decree.
Leaving without a decree could at any time be labeled as rebellion by the court, and he had no intention of giving them that excuse.
The Prince of Xiang reached the peak, looked at the warm red twilight covering the mountain, and sighed.
He too was waiting for an imperial decree, but the content he awaited differed from that of the Prince of Zhongshan.
The Prince of Zhongshan said, "Did you not expect the Dao Venerable to lose?"
"I have served the Dao Venerable for over a decade, and indeed, I did not expect it."
The Prince of Xiang, hands resting on his belt, panted and said, "But win or lose, in the end, it's still a matter between the three of them, master and disciples."
There was a hint of bitterness in his words.
The Prince of Zhongshan sneered, "One temple from Xining rules the world—the White Emperor's words were not wrong."
The Prince of Xiang sighed with emotion, "The world... I can no longer tell whose world this is."
The Prince of Zhongshan glanced at him and said, "Are you still unwilling to admit that he is our own younger brother?"
The Prince of Xiang remained silent, but his fingers dug into the fat at his waist.
The Prince of Zhongshan frowned slightly, "Is it because he was born of that woman?"
The Prince of Xiang rebuked, "That is the Empress Dowager."
The Prince of Zhongshan said angrily, "Utterly hypocritical, truly tiresome. In this regard, you've learned well from Grandfather!"
The Prince of Xiang smiled bitterly, "Unfortunately, our father didn't think that way back then."
The Prince of Zhongshan mocked, "That's because Father didn't like Grandfather."
At that moment, the imperial decree finally arrived.
The Prince of Zhongshan received the decree he had wanted.
Clearly, the emperor also did not want him to stay in the capital, cursing every day.
But the Prince of Xiang did not receive the decree he had hoped for.
The emperor kept the Prince of Chenliu in the capital, naturally under some other pretext.
The Prince of Zhongshan patted the Prince of Xiang on the shoulder and left on his own.
The Prince of Xiang stood in the twilight, silent for a while, before heading down the mountain.
When he returned to the relay station, everyone had already received the news.
The princess consort wept so hard she nearly fainted, and the other sons and daughters also had tear-streaked faces, though occasionally a glint of joy flashed in their eyes.
"I didn't choose a good name for him back then—that character 'liu' (to stay) was unlucky."
The Prince of Xiang sat in the armchair, looking at his children in the room, and said, "He spent most of his life in the capital as a hostage, contributing greatly to this family. I'm not asking you to be grateful, but could you at least put some genuine feeling into your pretense of grief?"
Hearing this, everyone exchanged glances, unsure whether it was embarrassment or tension. Someone actually began to cry, and then a chorus of lamentations followed.
The Prince of Xiang found it irritating. He steadied his belt and walked into the rear courtyard of the station, where a maid helped him onto his royal carriage.
The carriage was covered with thick woolen blankets, filled with delicious fruits and charming beauties.
A very fat man was surrounded by fine food and lovely women.
If one looked closely, they would see that this man bore an uncanny resemblance to the Prince of Xiang, even appearing identical.
The Prince of Xiang walked up to the man and sighed, "I told you, you need to act more convincingly. After all, I am a Sacred Domain powerhouse—shouldn't I have some presence?"
The man grimaced and said, "Your Highness, if I could train to your level, would I still need to be a body double?"
The Prince of Xiang said helplessly, "What about the presence, then?"
The man said seriously, "You are exactly such an approachable and amiable person!"