Chapter 680: What He Thought
Dozens of residential houses had been completely flattened, leaving only that teahouse standing. In the depths of Hundred Flowers Lane, where the dust was just beginning to settle, several carriages arrived.
There was no one in front of the National Academy, and it was very quiet. In truth, countless pairs of eyes in the shadows had been watching this place all along.
Prince Chenliu stepped down from the carriage.
This youngest commandery prince of the Zhou imperial clan still wore that gentle expression, giving people a spring-breeze-like feeling, but the nobility radiating from him was much richer. Perhaps that was because he was more composed than before, the light in his brows and eyes brighter, and even his features seemed clearer.
Fourteen Chen-surnamed princes had entered the capital, led by Prince Xiang. At the grand court assembly, a proposal had already been made: Prince Xiang would concurrently serve as the Grand Chancellor. He was Prince Xiang's son, and also the only bloodline of the Chen clan left in the capital over the past decade—this made him feared by many princes and even his own brothers, but it also represented merit. Without him, the Chen princes would have found it very difficult to stabilize the situation in the capital in such a short time.
Prince Chenliu walked to the gate of the National Academy.
No one came to welcome him, nor did anyone stop him. Only a few sharp yet faint sword intents probed out from within the academy walls, like cold plum blossoms.
Several cultivation masters with profound eyes and clearly extraordinary realms came to stand behind him.
Prince Chenliu waved his hand, signaling these mansion experts not to act rashly and to stay where they were. He walked in alone.
Even after entering the National Academy, still no one came to welcome him or stop him. There was only the autumn light, the water's hues, and the lush banyan tree by the lakeside.
Prince Chenliu walked toward the Scripture Repository. Over the past two years, whenever he had casual conversations with Chen Changsheng, it was either at Cheng Lake Tower or here.
Dozens of young women sat or stood on the grassy shore of the lake, speaking softly.
Seeing this scene, Prince Chenliu's expression shifted slightly. He thought to himself, the Holy Maiden has already returned south—why are these disciples of Southern Creek Sect still staying here?
Around the Scripture Repository, teachers and students of the National Academy were cleaning up. Su Moyu was arranging the reconstruction matters, and only when a clergyman beside him reminded him did he notice Prince Chenliu's figure.
He knew why Prince Chenliu had come and said directly, "The Dean is not here."
Prince Chenliu thought to himself that if it were him, he probably wouldn't want to see anyone from the Chen imperial clan either.
"Then I'll wait," he said to Su Moyu.
Su Moyu said, "Now that court affairs heavily rely on Your Highness, if you have something to say, just leave a message. Why waste your time here?"
Prince Chenliu caught the hidden implication in Su Moyu's words and smiled bitterly. "Consider it as me seeking peace of mind for myself."
...
...
Prince Chenliu was known for his noble character and for keeping his word—this was something many people knew.
When he said he would wait, he truly waited. Holding a cup of clear tea, he sat beneath a tree by the lake, responding with a smile to the curious gazes of the Southern Creek Sect young women. Only when dusk fell did he finally see Chen Changsheng return.
The Southern Creek Sect young women and the teachers and students of the National Academy knew the two must have things to discuss, so they tactfully left.
Prince Chenliu held his teacup, looking at the grass beneath his feet and the fallen leaves. After a long silence, he said, "Can I go pay respects at Her Majesty's grave?"
Chen Changsheng hadn't expected his first words to be these and was somewhat startled.
"Setting aside all the grievances and conflicts, Her Majesty was kind to me," Prince Chenliu said, lifting his head. "She raised me until I was over ten before I left the palace."
Chen Changsheng thought for a moment and said, "Those ten-plus years—you must have had a hard time, right?"
Prince Chenliu was momentarily stunned, then gave a bitter smile.
As expected of Chen Changsheng. Without needing to do anything deliberately, just by looking into the truest depths, he could use the simplest sentence to reveal all the truth.
"Yes... in those years, Her Majesty was very good to me, and the people in the palace respected me, but I truly had a hard time."
Prince Chenliu bent down and placed his teacup on the grass before continuing, "Because my surname is Chen."
Chen Changsheng looked into his eyes and said, "So no matter how she treated you, you still wanted her dead?"
Prince Chenliu thought seriously for a long time, then replied, "Perhaps it's because I never understood what kind of person she really was, so I was very afraid of her."
Chen Changsheng thought it over and agreed: "I don't understand her either."
Prince Chenliu looked at him earnestly and said, "But now, you've taken her side... you know, I mean on a spiritual level."
Chen Changsheng didn't explain and asked, "Your Highness, why have you come to see me?"
Prince Chenliu said, "I want to pay respects to her."
Chen Changsheng's silence made his stance clear.
He would not tell anyone where he had buried Tianhai Shenghou.
Even if Prince Chenliu had been raised by the Saintess.
"Pingguo has been taken back to the Tianhai family," Prince Chenliu suddenly said.
This was something Chen Changsheng didn't care about, but he knew that since Prince Chenliu had brought it up, there must be more to come.
"Aside from the throne, the world hasn't changed much. There are ugly sides, but also tender and warm ones."
Prince Chenliu looked at him and said, "Perhaps the world has wronged you, but I don't want you to lose all hope in it because of this."
Not long ago, His Holiness the Pope had expressed a similar sentiment in the Scripture Repository.
Chen Changsheng said, "What exactly does Your Highness want to say?"
Prince Chenliu asked, "Do you still remember the words Archbishop Merisa said to us before he died?"
Chen Changsheng's thoughts drifted back to that room filled with plum blossoms, recalling that deeply wrinkled old man. He was silent for a long time.
"The Archbishop told me to remember what you had sacrificed."
Prince Chenliu said, "At the time, neither of us knew what those words meant. But now, we understand."
Ripeness, fruit, sacrifice—many obscure words Merisa had spoken before, after the Mausoleum of Books incident, had found their answers. To overthrow Tianhai Shenghou's rule, people had used Chen Changsheng, and he had paid a heavy price—the most important things, hard to describe in words. If one had to explain in text, it would probably be: trust, hope, a sense of existence, and emotion.
"I don't know what Dean Shang thinks, what my father thinks, what my uncles and brothers think, but the Chen family owes you, and I will repay it on their behalf."
Prince Chenliu looked into his eyes and said seriously, "I will exhaust everything to ensure your safety and interests."
Chen Changsheng said, "Thank you."
He was very calm, even somewhat wooden, but a trace of warmth still stirred within him.
Prince Chenliu continued, "I can understand how you feel, but I hope you can pull yourself together quickly. Today, His Holiness the Pope gave you such great support. If you give up or leave, how will His Holiness face the millions of believers? What about the teachers and students of the National Academy? And what about His Majesty?"
Chen Changsheng thought of what Old Eunuch Lin had said during the day and felt somewhat weary. "I thought this wasn't a question I needed to consider."
Prince Chenliu said, "If the rumors are true—that you and His Majesty are truly like brothers—then this is a question you must consider."