Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Deceiver Zixu

On the dueling ground ahead, the contest was in full swing, but Li Fu seemed rather indifferent. Ever since that day he emerged from the Grand Ancestral Temple, he had become like a different person. He either wandered idly through the Eastern Capital or lounged lazily in his bamboo chair, basking in the sunlight. The obsession that had consumed him upon his arrival—his burning desire to unravel the truth of his origins—now seemed to have faded.

He had been raised by the current Grand Preceptor, a man holding one of the three highest offices of state, who had secluded himself in the countryside for decades all for his sake. The wine priest, who had hidden within the Grand Ancestral Temple for over a century, had tied his hair for him at the Lantern Festival examination—a privilege reserved for imperial scions. Even the rewards at the festival had been orchestrated by the wine priest’s own hand. Those close to him, Yang Ning and Yang Zixu, had also been richly rewarded as a result.

The stories of Tiance, Shence, the Shangguan family, the imperial house, and the wine priest—nearly every major event that had occurred since his arrival in the capital had revolved around him. Upon leaving the Grand Ancestral Temple, Li Fu saw with clarity that this was not merely an internal affair of the royal family, but a game of strategy that had been unfolding since the reign of Emperor Taizong.

It was a contest between the new and old royal clans, a struggle that had played out for centuries, in which every change of dynastic power produced its share of losers. The wine priest had only said that the first seed still survived—who could guarantee a second would not appear?

Was he that seed? If not, why would the Grand Preceptor, one of the three highest officials, forsake his post to raise him? And if he was—what then? Was he to reclaim the throne for his own bloodline?

Li Fu did not know, nor did he wish to ponder it deeply. To him, it all felt unbearably heavy.

So each day he basked in the sun and wandered the broad avenues of the Eastern Capital. Perhaps, after the lingering excitement of the Lantern Festival passed, he would return to Rice Fragrance Village. That, he felt, would suit him just fine.

“What are you doing here? I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Just as Li Fu was about to warm the cool bamboo chair with his own body heat, a voice called out.

“What is it? Something up?” Li Fu scratched his head, glancing at Chu Ge, who looked at him with undisguised disdain.

“There’s something so interesting going on, and you’re here lazing about. I can’t believe you,” Chu Ge said, eyeing Li Fu as if he were a hopeless case.

“Something interesting? You mean the duel on the martial field? Not interested,” Li Fu replied indifferently.

“Who said anything about that? I’m talking about the Ten Thousand Flowers Gathering in the Pavilion of Gentle Breezes,” Chu Ge answered.

Li Fu’s curiosity was piqued. “The Ten Thousand Flowers Gathering? It’s not even spring yet—where are all these flowers from?”

Chu Ge grinned proudly. “That’s where you’re ignorant. The flowers have all been gathered from across the Great Tang. Our empire is vast—some places in the south are already in the height of summer. Even lychees are delivered daily to the palace, let alone flowers.”

Li Fu was taken aback. Lychees? Isn’t that a fruit for June? How could they be here now? Still, Chu Ge had a point—the Tang realm was immense. In the three southeastern commanderies, it was spring year-round, and there were many beautiful sights to be found.

Li Fu reclined on his bamboo chair and said coolly, “Just a bunch of flowers and plants. What’s there to see…”

Chu Ge burst out, “You fool! Who told you to go look at flowers and plants? Do you know how many young ladies from noble houses are attending the Ten Thousand Flowers Gathering? Flowers and beauties—how can you only care about the flowers?”

Hearing this, Li Fu found it even less appealing and waved a hand. “Not going.”

Chu Ge was not surprised by the refusal. The corners of his mouth curled up, and a sly glint flashed in his eyes as he drew out his words. “I think I saw Qiu Yeqing there.”

At the mention of Qiu Yeqing’s name, a faint blush crept over Li Fu’s face, though he forced himself to say coolly, “Who? Never heard of her.”

“Come on, drop the act. Yang Zixu already told me. Lying awake at night thinking of that girl, huh? Ha!” Chu Ge burst into loud laughter, then suddenly remembered something and his laughter vanished.

He looked at Li Fu and said, “Don’t blame me for not warning you—if you don’t hurry, your beloved is going to be snatched by Shangguan Qi. Everybody knows Qiu Yeqing can’t stand him—not just people in the capital, even the tribes in the north have heard of it. I just left the Ten Thousand Flowers Garden and saw Shangguan Qi, arm in a sling, pestering Qiu Yeqing shamelessly. If you don’t go play hero and save the beauty, you’ll regret it.”

“Damn it! That bastard Yang Zixu—he promised not to tell! Can’t believe he spilled the beans the moment my back was turned. Where is that dog—I’ll skin him alive!” Li Fu’s face flushed and paled by turns, looking truly wretched.

“Come on, you brought this on yourself. Why tell him, when you know he can’t keep his mouth shut? Give it a few more days and the whole capital will know you’re fighting Shangguan Qi over a girl,” Chu Ge said, regarding him with some sympathy.

Just then, a familiar sound of “Ouch!” rang out from the martial field.

Li Fu and Chu Ge exchanged glances—they knew instantly who it was.

“Today I’m skinning him for sure!” Li Fu rose from his bamboo chair, snatched his sword “Zhuoqing” from the room, and strode toward the martial arena.

“Hey, take it easy! If you cripple him, how will we explain it to Old Master Yang?” Chu Ge called out gleefully, relishing the spectacle.

…

On the martial field, Yang Zixu was fleeing at top speed from Yang Ning, one shoe missing, looking utterly ridiculous. The five members of the Sword-Hiding Ye family stood to the side, lips pressed together, faces twitching as they struggled not to laugh.

“I said I was wrong, isn’t that enough? Brother Yang Ning, give me some face—don’t do this here!” Yang Zixu, heedless of his dignity—if one could even call it that at this point—cared only about the furious Yang Ning behind him.

“Give you face? With that big mouth of yours, it’ll be three days at most before Father knows! Thanks to you, I got punished with five hundred copies of the Tiance Army Regulations! How do you expect me to settle this score?” Yang Ning shouted in exasperation.

“I’ll help you write them! However many you need, I’ll help!” Yang Zixu scurried away, terrified that Yang Ning, in a fit of rage, would put a hole in him with his spear.

“What’s going on?” Li Fu asked, perplexed by the scene. Hadn’t Yang Zixu already run off? How had Yang Ning caught him?

He soon figured it out.

Turns out Yang Zixu hadn’t gone far, but was hiding nearby, waiting for Yang Ning to leave so he could slip out. But then Yang Ning started sparring with Ye Wenshui of the Sword-Hiding Ye family, and Yang Zixu, unable to resist temptation, started taking bets on their match in the crowd. The crowd grew, Yang Ning noticed, and caught him red-handed!

“To think a scion of the illustrious General Tianyu’s household could be so greedy…” Li Fu shook his head in resignation. Only two words came to mind for Yang Zixu: Serves you right!

“That’s just how he is—money-mad. He doesn’t even need the money. I’ve known him for years and still can’t figure him out…” Chu Ge sighed, entirely unsurprised.

…

Suddenly, Yang Zixu spotted Li Fu in the crowd and, as if seeing a savior, dashed over and hid behind him, clutching his arm. He failed to notice the meaningful smile playing on Li Fu’s lips.

In a flash, Li Fu seized Yang Zixu’s arm, then raised his sheathed sword and brought it down on him.

“Ow!” Yang Zixu yelped, glaring at Li Fu in pain.

Li Fu fixed him with a cold stare. “What did you tell Chu Ge?”

“Nothing, nothing…” Yang Zixu remembered what he’d just told Chu Ge, and was surprised Li Fu had found out so soon.

“Or was it Chu Ge who told you something? Oh, right—the Ten Thousand Flowers Garden opens today. Qiu Yeqing will definitely be there; she loves flowers more than anyone in the capital. If she’s there, then that scoundrel Shangguan Qi must be too. Why are you here messing around with me instead of shooing away the pests for the beauty?”

Yang Zixu’s mind worked fast. He seized on the new topic and hurriedly shifted the conversation.

Not giving Li Fu a chance to speak, he said, “You go on ahead to the garden—I’ll change and catch up. Don’t let Shangguan Qi seize the moment. Qiu Yeqing doesn’t like him!”

“Go on! Don’t let the Shangguan family have their way,” someone shouted.

“Li Fu, go! All of us at Tiance Academy are behind you!”

“If you don’t go, we will. Qiu Yeqing is the greatest beauty in the capital—there are plenty at the academy who secretly fancy her. Don’t miss your chance to play the hero…”

The crowd of students from Tiance Academy egged him on. None of them much cared for the Shangguan family, especially with the recent troubles at the Shanglin Garden still fresh in everyone’s minds. Now, given a chance to get under the Shangguan clan’s skin, why not take it?

Li Fu wished the earth would swallow him up. He raised his sword, then let it fall, unable to bring it down on Yang Zixu—whose earnest expression seemed to say he’d done all this for Li Fu’s sake.

“You little troublemaker! I’ll deal with you later!” Li Fu gritted his teeth, put down his sword, and, acting on impulse, dragged Chu Ge out of Tiance Academy toward the Ten Thousand Flowers Garden.

…

Yang Zixu watched Li Fu’s retreating back with a triumphant grin, as if to show the crowd how easily he’d gotten rid of a “creditor.”

“We really need to settle our accounts,” came a voice then. A large hand clamped around Yang Zixu’s neck.

Yang Ning, face dark with exasperation, hauled Yang Zixu off toward the back courtyard…