Chapter 20: Choosing a Lord for Heaven

The Young Emperor's whereabouts?!

Inside the county office courtyard, the splendid hall shone with color, brocade displayed.

A middle-aged man with a goatee, hearing a servant's report, was frightened and directly flung the beautiful woman seated in his arms out.

The woman's clothing half slipped; from that toss, her fair, ample bosom trembled, causing the attending servants to stare.

The middle-aged man paid no heed to any of this, simply muttering:

I was merely demoted and assigned here as a petty county magistrate—how could I be dragged into such a major affair?

What, the Young Emperor's whereabouts...? Now Emperor Yuan has ascended the throne! The Taizong Young Emperor is long a thing of the past! This—this isn't handing me a hot potato, is it?!

No wonder that day on the street I felt someone watching me, this person could call my name—they must have recognized me then... What should I do? What should I do?

Xu Min muttered for a while, seeing no one pay attention, and couldn't help but burst out shouting:

You guys, speak!!

The servants were all household slaves Xu Min brought from home; they knew little, only knowing their master's spoiled temperament, and hastily knelt begging for mercy.

The movement of the crowd kneeling and begging pulled at the candlelight.

The flame flickered dimly, and for a moment the twilight outside deepened.

Xu Min, anxious inside, waved and said:

Bring all the chief clerks inside the county office; I'll discuss with them.

The servants promptly agreed and went to fetch the three chief clerks who had long handled affairs in the county office.

The three chief clerks each had a distinct trait: one tall, one short, one fat.

The fat chief clerk was a scion of the Boling Cui clan; among the three, his background was the most prominent, his intentions the least concealed:

The barbarians' iron hooves cannot be resisted! Earlier the Young Emperor suffered defeat after defeat, losing half the realm; now, under the Majesty's maneuvering, Nan Yin and Bei Mo have made peace, barely avoiding war—if we were to welcome the Young Emperor back now, wouldn't that shake the foundations of the state?

In my humble opinion, the county magistrate should summon outsiders, ascertain the Young Emperor's whereabouts, and present his head to the Majesty—then official fortune will surely prosper for the rest of one's life!

The short chief clerk was stooped, advanced in age; after thirty years of imperial examinations he finally obtained the clerk post, but unlike the fat one, he had a touch of literati fervor, saying:

I entered the civil service during the Taizong era; though Taizong has passed, his lingering grace remains—we ought to uphold the old order and absolutely cannot commit treason.

In my view, it would be better to send troops to welcome back the Young Emperor and restore the orthodox line.

The Young Emperor is honest; if the county magistrate schemes for official fortune, he will naturally not lack benefits.

The last chief clerk, nearing forty, wore a plain blue robe, his form slender.

His brow ridge was gentle, the fine lines at his eyes deep and still; a pair of eyes, neither sharp nor stern, yet sank like an ancient pool.

As the saying goes, his spirit and bearing were naturally formed.

Upon seeing this person, Xu Min's heart gave a start; he instinctively sat upright, ready to hear his lofty opinion.

Who would have thought, the chief clerk named Chen Weifang pondered a few breaths, then said only:

Kill him.

Kill, kill him?

Kill whom?

Everyone inside turned their heads as one, looking at Chen Weifang; Chen Weifang merely repeated:

Kill him, the person outside.

His words were brief and to the point, yet unclear, leaving everyone bewildered.

What use could killing the person outside be?

The important person—could it not be the Young Emperor?!

Xu Min felt greatly disappointed; he simply rose and paced slowly within the room, pondering.

The candlelight swayed.

The fat and short chief clerks were also anxious, each fearing the other would speak again; they glared at each other, secretly competing.

Until......

The gatekeeper's servant then brought in another remark:

Sir, the person outside says it's grown late; if you cannot decide, he will leave.

Leave?

How could that be allowed!

Although we now don't know whether to keep or eliminate the Young Emperor, the prerequisite is always to first know his whereabouts!

Xu Min's steps halted; for a moment he was at his wits' end:

You idiot, don't you know you should first bring the person inside before speaking? How could you let him go?!

The servant, scolded, dared not delay; he immediately turned about and brought the person in.

Xu Min turned again; the lower hem of his official robe brushed the blue bricks, kicking up a little dust.

He walked back to the official's hat stand, steadied himself, reached up to adjust his hat, then slowly bent down, his palm lightly patting his knee, and sat firmly.

He had somewhat figured it out—

Whether the Young Emperor is killed or not killed, saved or not saved... now, it should be him who becomes the father.

Saving the Young Emperor is merit; killing the Young Emperor is also merit.

This merit—who else could it be but him?!

Thus thinking, Xu Min lifted his chin, his gaze passing through the open door to fall upon the outer courtyard.

The tea on the tea table had already stopped steaming.

The daylight had completely darkened; a shadow crept over the old locust tree at the courtyard corner, gradually shifting toward the threshold.

Xu Min cleared his throat, about to shout down to the person below: who are you, how could you recognize me, and how do you know the Young Emperor's whereabouts...

But before he could speak, he witnessed the most horrifying scene of his life—

That was a slender young figure, slowly appearing behind the gauze window.

His stature was neither tall nor imposing.

However......

Yet the shadow reflected on the window was menacing and eerily strange.

The shadow paced slowly, finally stopping outside the door.

The visitor was clearly sideways, yet his neck turned silently at an angle like a lone wolf, coiled and ready to strike, his shoulder and neck lines forming a taut bow, fixed on the people inside, as if he would at any moment dart away as a fleeting shadow of feeding.

His face was handsome, but his eyes were dark, vicious, and cunning—sharper than a fire‑tempered hawk's gaze, piercing.

His gaze swept slowly over the crowd, then suddenly fixed on a spot, making the one stared at feel as if his flesh were being torn apart by claws.

Although concealed by the night......

Yet even with the hawk's gaze and wolf's vigilance, it was no more than that.

With each step he took, everyone inside felt a jolt in their hearts.

Everyone was shocked and unsettled; Chen Weifang covered her face and let out a long sigh.

The visitor stepped slowly and uttered a puzzling sentence:

"This time...... is merely...... choosing a ruler for Heaven......"

Du Shanü slept very poorly this night.

Very bad.

She sometimes dreamed of clutching a money box and shaking it wildly, the proud Yu Baobao, and sometimes of wearing dark robes and a crown, the dignified Young Emperor.

She dreamed that Yu Baobao insisted on becoming her husband, yet later, on a leisurely afternoon, he was ushered away by an extravagant procession and never returned.

She even dreamed of carrying a child on her back, another hanging from her chest, and pushing a rickety cart loaded with seven or eight children of various sizes, ready to 'go to the capital to seek relatives'.

After great effort she rounded up the children like piglets and found their father, with Yu Hen looming above, who only said:

"How could I have children with a country village woman......"

What nonsense!

What nonsense!

If you look down on her, you shouldn't have taken off your pants in the first place! Honestly!

As if the pants could fall off by themselves!

Du Shanü, fuming, threw two punches to the side without even opening her eyes.

Those punches weren't light, yet the person who took them had no intention of leaving; merely, after being startled, he dazedly stuck out his tongue and gently licked her face, murmuring:

"Little eyelids, when fighting, little feet, don't crawl around."

"The pillow is soft, the blanket slippery, inside hides the dream doll."

"The little bird sleeps without chirping, the good baby learns to be a little mute."

"Little love, little love, sleep sweetly, sleep till morning...... gurgling......"

A soft Wu dialect lullaby.

The damp moisture on her face made her feel awake.

Everything was far from the cold, heartless emperor of her dream.

Du Shanü studied the person for several breaths before slowly waking from the dream, realizing something——

Yu Hen—or rather, Yu Yiai—had earlier said he grew up under immense affection, which seemed no joke.

This lullaby was clearly the one Yu Baobao's parents used to sing him......

A child raised in loving parents, aware of the world's hardships, and worried for the people—how bad could he really be?

Alas!

After finally finding a child to her liking, how could it be that he once was an emperor!

Du Shanü's pent‑up frustration not eased, she sprang up and washed up.

Outside, the sky was already bright—another early morning.

Everything in the household proceeded in order; seeing A Chou come again to ask about leaving, Du Shanü spat out a mouthful of mouthwash and asked:

"Why didn't you see Liu Shusheng?"