Chapter Thirty-six: Royal Secrets

Zhan Yan gazed at the records of expenditures that moved her deeply, so absorbed that she was nearly entranced. She could have skimmed through them quickly, but she chose not to. Instead, she read each entry with earnest care, not wishing to miss a single detail. These records bore witness to that man’s selfless devotion. The handwriting differed in each ledger, clearly indicating that various people had been entrusted with the task of recording these accounts. Likely, those who received aid never even knew it was he who provided it.

Zhongli Yu had been gone for half an hour and still had not returned. Zhan Yan glanced at the hourglass—it was already midday. She wondered at his whereabouts, and just as she was about to head toward the study, the door opened. Zhongli Yu entered, carrying a rectangular iron box.

“Yan’er, are you hungry?” he asked gently, seeing that she had already risen.

“Not really. I just saw you weren’t back and wanted to look for you. Did you go to fetch this box?” she inquired, raising her brow at the object in his hand.

“Yes. Sit down, I have something to show you.” He guided her to a seat, standing by her side as he carefully opened the box. Though the iron box was old, it had clearly been well maintained, with not a trace of rust. Inside lay a scroll of bright yellow silk, reminiscent of an imperial edict.

Zhongli Yu took out the edict and unfurled it before Zhan Yan. The words inscribed read: “Heirs of the royal line throughout the ages, heed this command: The House of the Lord of Chun shall be the guardians of Dongling. No matter who ascends the throne in times to come, the privileges of the House of Chun shall never be revoked. The House of Chun, generation upon generation, shall uphold the dignity of the royal family and bear the solemn duty of protecting the realm. Should there arise a tyrant, the emperor may be deposed, power may be bestowed upon the worthy, and, if need be, the House of Chun may assume the throne. Thus is my will.”

Zhan Yan stared at the decree in utter disbelief. How could this be? The House of Chun held power so great as to depose an emperor—no wonder the King of Dongling dared not force Zhongli Yu to marry Princess Birou. So there existed this supreme edict, after all.

“How can this be? Is this real?” she cried out, too shocked to restrain herself.

“It’s true,” Zhongli Yu replied calmly. “There are two copies of this edict—one held by the emperor, the other by the House of Chun. Only the reigning emperor is ever privy to its existence; the other princes remain unaware.” Seeing Zhan Yan’s curiosity, he continued, “A hundred years ago, the world was in chaos. The people suffered, wars raged everywhere, and all aspired to the throne. There was a family named Zhong, with two extraordinarily gifted sons, masters of both arms and letters. Unable to bear the people’s suffering, they rose up, gathered righteous men, and defeated those who fought for their own glory at the people’s expense. Once peace was restored, the brothers, bound by deep affection, each wished to yield the throne to the other, unwilling to claim supreme power for themselves. Both were beloved by all, and the people could not decide whom to support as king. At that moment, a clever soul devised a solution: he tossed a coin into the air and declared that whoever it landed closer to would become king. All agreed, including the brothers. The coin landed by the elder brother’s feet; he became king, while the younger became a prince. Out of profound love for his brother, the new king worried that his own descendants might one day mistreat his sibling’s line. Thus, he issued this edict, to be passed down through the House of Chun and the royal family for generations.”

“You mean the ancestor of the House of Chun was that younger brother? But then why isn’t your surname Zhong?”

“In truth, my surname is Zhong. But ever since that time, every descendant of the House of Chun has had the character ‘Li’ prefixed to their name, so that people would mistakenly believe our family name to be Zhongli.”

“Why did your ancestor do that?” Zhan Yan asked in puzzlement. If they were brothers, what need was there for such secrecy?

“It has to do with the responsibilities borne by the House of Chun through the ages. From birth, I was told that my life’s duty was to protect Dongling’s lands. The royal family maintains a secret base where soldiers are trained—elite troops, only revealed in the direst circumstances. Responsibility for training these men falls solely to the descendants of the House of Chun, while their command remains with the emperor. This is to prevent succession struggles; our ancestors wished to avoid fratricidal conflict for the throne. Entrusting this duty to a specific prince would breed suspicion among brothers, so it was laid upon the House of Chun instead. The addition of the ‘Li’ in our names serves to mislead the regional lords, lulling them into a false sense of security. If rebellion were to arise, none would suspect that the House of Chun—whose members appear to be idle princes uninterested in state affairs—would be the ones to quell it.”

“Your ancestors were truly farsighted. In all these years, have there ever been bloody struggles among the royal brothers?”

“Never. Every prince, from the moment he is born, is first taught not the art of governance, but the principle of brotherly harmony.”

Zhan Yan could not help but marvel at the wisdom of the founding emperor and the Lord Chun of old. Their insight was far beyond the reach of ordinary men. No wonder Zhongli Yu cherished the people of Dongling so dearly, working quietly on their behalf. He had been nurtured in such teachings since birth. Those two brothers—so devoted to their land and unmoved by power—truly deserved heartfelt admiration.

“Yan’er, I’ll entrust this edict to your care,” Zhongli Yu said, closing the box and pressing it into her hands.

“How can I accept?” Zhan Yan exclaimed, startled, as if the box weighed a thousand pounds.

“Take it. You are now the mistress of the House; these things are rightfully yours to keep. No refusals.”

“No, you should keep it yourself, not me.”

“Yan’er, in all these years, I’ve never felt as uneasy as I do now. I fear this war will not be so simple. It seems Xiyuan has been preparing for many years. Perhaps soon I will have to march to war. So, for now, please keep it for me, will you?” Zhongli Yu spoke gently, gazing deeply at his beloved wife, his eyes filled with reluctant affection.

“Then I’ll keep it for you for the time being, but I’ll return it to you later,” Zhan Yan said helplessly, the worry in her eyes evident.

“There’s no need to worry, Yan’er. On the battlefield, I doubt anyone could harm me,” he said, stroking her face tenderly.

“That’s true enough.” Zhan Yan nodded, trusting in Zhongli Yu’s martial skill.

“And besides, if we look on the bright side, perhaps the God of War, the Southern Guardian King, will resolve this conflict before it reaches us.”

“Let’s hope so.”