Chapter 233: Is Human Life Predestined by Heaven?

That night at the traveling palace, Zhao Kuangyin lay awake all night.

The Daoist's words echoed repeatedly in his mind.

October twentieth.

If the sky is clear, he lives.

If it is overcast and rainy, he dies.

His life, his kingdom, his everything—actually to be decided by the face of heaven that day?

How absurd! How ridiculous!

And the one who said this was precisely the Daoist who had once accurately foretold his destiny.

He dared not disbelieve it.

The next day, the sky was bright.

Zhao Kuangyin appeared before the Daoist, his eyes bloodshot.

The hangover headache was nothing compared to his inner torment.

"Daoist." He cut to the chase: "Come back to Kaifeng with me."

"I will appoint you as Guardian of the State True Person, bestow upon you a mansion of gold and silver, and let you enjoy all worldly riches. You need only stay by my side to dispel my doubts."

He wanted to firmly grasp this person who could probe heavenly secrets in his own hand.

Perhaps his sliver of life lay in the Daoist's hands.

He needed to know at any moment whether his fate had changed again.

The Daoist looked at him and gently shook his head.

"Your Majesty's kindness, I appreciate it."

"But I am accustomed to the life of idle clouds and wild cranes; I cannot bear the restraints of court. To me, worldly wealth and honor are nothing but fleeting clouds."

"You!" Zhao Kuangyin's brows knit tightly.

He never expected anyone to refuse such temptation.

In this world, are there still people who do not love power and wealth?

"Why?" he asked, bewildered. "Stay by my side and you will have everything. Wandering the rivers and lakes, eating wind and sleeping dew—what good is that?"

The Daoist smiled faintly.

"Your Majesty has your realm; I have my mountains and rivers."

"Different paths, no joint plans."

"Your Majesty, take care."

Having said that, the Daoist bowed deeply to him.

Then he turned, flicked his duster, and strode out of the palace.

His steps were not fast, but each was extraordinarily firm.

"Halt!" Zhao Kuangyin shouted.

But the Daoist seemed not to hear; he did not turn back, and his figure quickly vanished around the palace gate's corner.

Zhao Kuangyin stood where he was, his fists clenched so tightly they crackled.

A nameless anger, mixed with immense loss and fear, swept over him in an instant.

He felt for the first time that there was a power his imperial authority could not control.

Just like the weather on that October twentieth.

"Your Majesty…"

The Chief Eunuch approached cautiously.

"Shall I… have someone sent to bring him back?"

Zhao Kuangyin's chest heaved violently.

Pursue?

How to pursue?

Hold a blade to his throat to force him to stay?

Would what he said still be true then?

He slowly loosened his fists and wearily waved his hand.

"Forget it."

"Let him go."

"Issue the order: set out at once and return to the capital."

On the road back to Kaifeng, the atmosphere was oppressive to the extreme.

The proud spring breeze of the outward journey had long vanished.

Zhao Kuangyin sat in the imperial palanquin, silent.

He lifted the curtain and gazed at the sky outside.

Today is a clear day, the sun shining bright—what about the weather on October twentieth?

His heart was shrouded in an unshakable gloom.

He began to frantically count the days.

From today to October twentieth, how many days remain?

Seven-odd months.

Only seven-odd months left.

"What if… what if it really rains on that day?"

What should he prepare?

What does the Daoist's "measure" refer to?

Is it to offer sacrifice to Heaven? To pray for blessings? Or……

A terrifying thought rushed into his mind uncontrollably.

It is to eliminate those who might threaten his realm, threaten his son De Zhao!

The Wang family?

The Imperial City Office reported that the Wang family's large amounts of supplies and people had all left by ship, and it didn't seem like they could threaten his imperial position.

Wang Xu?

Just a petty official, he could be crushed at any time.

Who else is there?

Before Zhao Kuangyin's eyes appeared the humble face of Zhao Guangyi.

He recalled what the scout had said: Zhao Guangyi had secretly discussed for how long at Wang Xu's residence.

But he is his own mother's younger brother; how could he possibly do something harmful to himself?

He didn't believe it!

If he really were gone on October twentieth……

Zhao Guangyi was indeed a steadfast regent; given such close blood ties, how could he believe anyone else?

Or perhaps……

Zhao Kuangyin dared not think further.

"The Golden Coffer Alliance" was his mother's dying wish; he was willing to look after his younger brother well, but the succession of the throne does not go from brother to brother, skipping the son—this was all so his mother could pass without regret!

Zhao Pu and Zhao Guangyi both knew this well.

He had always thought he had enough time to make arrangements, to ensure the throne would pass smoothly to his son.

But now, Heaven seemed to want to roll up the scroll early.

He had no time left!

Return to Kaifeng.

Zhao Kuangyin instantly became a different person.

He no longer went to Wang Xu's to listen to the zither and paint, nor did he linger in the inner palace.

He spent almost all his time in the Hall of Supreme Reverence and the Hall of Martial Lectures.

He frequently summoned the senior officials of the Council of State to repeatedly rehearse the frontier battles.

He began promoting and relying heavily on the in-laws of Zhao De Zhao, Prefect of Jingzhao Pan Mei.

He even broke precedent, starting to pay attention to the daily weather forecasts presented by the Imperial Astronomical Bureau.

"How will the weather be tomorrow?"

This sentence became his daily question to the palace attendant.

And whenever an official reported that a place long suffering drought had finally received sweet rain, and the people rejoiced, Zhao Kuangyin's expression would instantly turn extremely grim.

Rain.

He began to morbidly hate that word.

His abnormality was seen by all the civil and military officials, yet none dared to ask.

Only Zhao Guangyi, after a salute, casually mentioned something as if unintentionally.

"Elder brother, lately you seem burdened with thoughts—could it be worries over state affairs? If there is any matter where I, your younger brother, can share the burden, I would not refuse even at the cost of my life."

He still appeared that obedient demeanor.

Zhao Kuangyin raised his head and stared fixedly at him.

He hoped to see a flaw in that face.

But there was nothing but a sheet of humility.

Zhao Kuangyin suddenly laughed: "Guangyi, you mean well; I'm fine."

He didn't believe Zhao Guangyi harbored ill will toward him; what overnight grudge could there be between brothers?

"I'm just wondering how many generations can the Zhao family's realm be passed down?"

As soon as these words were spoken, Zhao Guangyi's body trembled imperceptibly.