A new advisor moved into the king’s palace, and within half a day, the news had spread throughout the main city.

 

The Northern Border Army had a total of 500,000 troops. After accounting for those stationed in scattered outposts to guard against unrest and those dispatched to eliminate bandits, about 350,000 troops were stationed in Yanmen County, almost filling the entire main city. The soldiers guarded the borders, while their families were the true lifeblood of Yanmen County, responsible for building the city, running businesses, farming, and weaving—each person indispensable.

 

Given this, Yanmen County’s security and order should have been excellent, and indeed, it was. There was never any petty theft, but when trouble arose, it was catastrophic.

 

…

 

Xiao Rong returned to Jian Qiao’s home, happily packing his belongings. In reality, there wasn’t much to pack, his bundle from yesterday hadn’t even been unpacked by Ah Shu.

 

Master and servant headed to the palace. On the way, Xiao Rong once again observed the peaceful and prosperous people of Yanmen County, noticing that they seemed more spirited than those in other places.

 

Whether in Southern Yong or other cities north of the Han River, the people always appeared rushed, as if someone was constantly urging them. They finished their tasks and immediately returned home, never lingering outside because they never knew what might happen if they stayed a moment longer. Whether it was warlords conscripting soldiers or bandits invading the city, they couldn’t afford either.

Yanmen County had no such phenomenon. The entire city was full of their own people, and they trusted no one more than each other.

 

Who could have known that the seemingly impregnable Northern Border Army had long been riddled with spies and traitors? They appeared in droves, whether because they were skilled actors or because Qu Yunmei and others were poor judges of character, not a single one had been discovered, and caused one loss after another.

 

Shaking his head, Xiao Rong decided not to comment further and simply followed the guards to find his accommodation.

 

Xiao Rong’s special treatment caused a small stir in certain circles.

 

Xiao Rong wasn’t the only advisor living in the palace. The historically renowned Gao Xunzhi also resided there.

 

In the eyes of both the Northern Border Army and the King of the North, Gao Xunzhi was highly esteemed. He was among the first to join the army, weathering many storms with them, and dedicating his efforts without marrying or having children. To Gao Xunzhi, Qu Yunmei was like a son. The King of the North never had any capable scholars under him so almost all the crucial decisions were made by Gao Xunzhi. However, the King was so stubborn that even Gao Xunzhi’s advice sometimes went unheeded.

 

Even so, if Gao Xunzhi could’ve stayed by Qu Yunmei’s side, he could’ve helped avoid many mistakes. Unfortunately, life had no “what ifs,” and Gao Xunzhi died two years before Qu Yunmei, leaving him powerless over subsequent events.

 

…

 

Although Xiao Rong had moved into the palace, supposedly cutting ties with Jian Qiao, Jian Qiao still secretly instructed the guards to place Xiao Rong next to Master Gao.

 

Master Gao was eager for talented people, even more than the king. If anything happened, living close by, he could quickly find out and help persuade the king.

 

Jian Qiao had a blind faith in Xiao Rong. He felt Xiao Rong was incredibly capable, whether in divination or in avoiding danger. Such a talented person couldn’t just be lost to the king’s sword, it would be a pity.

 

…

 

Until Master Gao returned, Jian Qiao felt he should take on the responsibility of looking after Xiao Rong. Thus, when the king called a meeting with his advisors to discuss the unrest in Yizhou, Jian Qiao, who should have been training troops outside, squeezed into the meeting.

 

Xiao Rong arrived earlier than Jian Qiao, and was already seated, not too close or too far from the front, ensuring he could hear Qu Yunmei without standing out.

 

Jian Qiao glanced at Xiao Rong’s spot, finding no issue with it, and then turned to chat with colleagues.

 

That’s when the trouble began.

 

Since Xiao Rong entered the palace, other advisors had been watching him, secretly holding numerous meetings to analyze and deal with him.

 

The Northern Border Army was famously a wasteland for scholars. Truly talented scholars almost never came, and even if they did, they left within days, angered by the army’s disdain for scholars.

Yet, the king’s advisory team had over ten members. Were they more patient? No, they simply had nowhere else to go.

 

…

 

Unable to find better opportunities, reluctant to accept lower positions, lacking substantial salaries elsewhere, or fearing death, it was only here they could live peacefully.

 

These were the real reasons the advisory team remained. They were a bunch of old hands, thinking daily, not of serving the king, but of maintaining their positions.

 

Naturally, someone as talented and proactive as Xiao Rong became their target.

 

Initially, they planned to give Xiao Rong a hard time when he visited them, but he never came. Not only did he not visit, but he also didn’t send the customary gifts of wine.

 

In fact, Xiao Rong was unaware of such customs. Even if he had known, he wouldn’t have sent anything.

 

…

 

Accumulating new grudges and old grievances, these advisors grew increasingly displeased with Xiao Rong. When they saw the arrival of a dazzling new face, they collectively paused before deciding to make their move.

 

Scholars didn’t need bloodshed for scheming, just a bit of exclusion and sarcasm was enough to make someone miserable.

 

Xiao Rong didn’t notice the brewing storm around him, he was still pondering his plan. It wasn’t until a shadow appeared beside him that he looked up.

 

An elderly man with a white beard, looking very wise, stood beside him and said, “Young friend, you’re sitting in the wrong seat. This is mine. That one over there is yours.”

 

Xiao Rong turned his head and saw that the seat the old man pointed to was the last one. Xiao Rong turned back, studied the old man for a moment, and then replied, “The guards said that except for Chancellor Gao, the other gentlemen have no specific seating order.”

 

The old man smiled. “Indeed, but I’m quite old now, and my senses aren’t what they used to be. I’m used to sitting here. Why don’t you do me a favor and let me have this seat?”

 

He spoke of asking a favor, but his slow, leisurely tone was quite irritating.

 

Using age to pressure others was effective unless one was at Qu Yunmei’s level. Even Xiao Rong couldn’t outright refuse and say he wouldn’t respect his elders, as the collective of scholars could drown him in spit if he dared.

 

Of course, that didn’t mean Xiao Rong would just swallow his anger.

 

Staring at the old man, he suddenly smiled.

 

His smile was unexpected, catching the old man off guard. Then he saw Xiao Rong take a deep breath, suddenly clutch his chest, and start coughing violently.

 

“You’re right, sir” Xiao Rong said between coughs. “You’re in poor health, and I should give up my seat. But, my own weak condition… cough, cough… has left me with little time to live. Compared to me, you can serve the king much longer. This seat should naturally be yours,” he said, coughing severely, almost collapsing back into his chair.

 

Leaning against the back of the chair, Xiao Rong looked extremely weak and then turned his head to say in a not-so-loud but audible voice, “Hurry and help me up so that the old gentleman can have his beloved seat!”

 

The old man was speechless, feeling a surge of anger. He had only mentioned his age, but Xiao Rong had brought in weakness, illness, and disability, using them all!

 

Everyone looked over, with Jian Qiao being particularly stunned, not understanding how Xiao Rong, who had been fine just moments ago, suddenly appeared half-dead.

 

Just as he was about to rush over, he saw the old man’s face flush with embarrassment; he had never felt so humiliated. Even the other advisors looked at him suspiciously, wondering if he had gone too far. Defeated, the old man left, and Xiao Rong coughed a few more times before sitting back comfortably, waiting for the meeting to start.

 

Jian Qiao thought to himself, ‘I should have trusted that Master Xiao could handle it. I am guilty.’

 

…

 

When Qu Yunmei arrived, no one paid any attention to the earlier drama, and they began discussing the situation in Yizhou.

 

Xiao Rong mostly kept silent, realizing he didn’t understand Qu Yunmei well. His previous escape had relied on quick thinking and luck. Who knew that the murderous Qu Yunmei could be so tolerant, enduring others’ insults?

 

He couldn’t always rely on luck, so it was best to understand the situation first.

 

The issue in Yizhou wasn’t too important; it was more of a pretense. Handling it well might earn some credit, but mishandling it wouldn’t draw much attention.

 

The clearest evidence was that no matter what the group discussed, Xiao Rong’s body didn’t react—no discomfort, nothing, indicating that this matter didn’t affect Qu Yunmei’s fortune.

 

The civil and military officials chatted away, and Xiao Rong patiently listened for a while, finding it all useless talk. The advisors were just passing the time, not offering real solutions, only sighing over the hardships of the Northern Border Army, the people, and the treacherous Xianbei.

 

Xiao Rong found his mouth twitching. If Qu Yunmei had killed such people before, he could somewhat understand.

 

Thinking this meeting was just for show, Xiao Rong started to daydream. Then, the atmosphere suddenly changed.

 

The room snapped him back to attention, with only one particularly passionate voice analyzing the situation.

 

Surprised, Xiao Rong looked over to see a young man in his twenties, animatedly addressing Qu Yunmei, accusing him of being too impulsive, and having brute strength but no strategy. The turmoil in Yizhou was his fault, for his harsh rule and excessive brutality, killing most of the local tribes without leaving anyone to govern, leading the remaining tribes to ally with the Xianbei in their anger, and sacrificing Shenli and Jiangyang counties as their offerings of revenge.

 

Xiao Rong was stunned. Was there really someone braver than him?

 

Actually, Xiao Rong had missed a part of the discussion; the man hadn’t been this aggressive initially. It was Qu Yunmei’s unyielding nature that sharpened his words. Qu Yunmei had responded at first but now just stared at him silently.

 

Everyone else, except Xiao Rong, knew what was coming.

 

Still, no one spoke up, as this wasn’t the first time. The man was always so straightforward, bound to die by his own words. Previously, Master Gao had saved him, but even he had given up later.

Finally, the man pushed Qu Yunmei to the brink. Qu Yunmei abruptly stood up, angrily flicking his sleeves. “You attribute the chaos in Yizhou to me, without realizing that without me, there would be no Yizhou! Enough talk. Since you’ve decided I’m the culprit, you must not want to stay in Yanmen County any longer. Guards! Take him out and behead him!”

 

Xiao Rong watched in shock. He hadn’t planned to intervene, being new and unfamiliar with the situation, but he quickly realized he had no choice.

 

His heart pounded violently—not from love, but from the imminent threat of it exploding. Xiao Rong gasped, feeling as if his blood were boiling, and he stood up abruptly, stars dancing in his vision, and shouted:

 

“Stop!

 

“Your Majesty, you mustn’t!”

 

Edited by: Antiope

 

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