11. To Accomplish the Monarch’s Affairs Throughout the Realm

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Qin Duoye finally drained the terrifying, thick, black medicinal broth in one gulp. Then, his expression unchanged though his teeth clenched, he saw Gou Hongyang out.

The moment the main gate closed, he rushed back inside, snatched up the green tea from the table, tilted his head back, and gulped it all down.

Only after the faintly sweet and bitter taste of the tea had washed away the strong medicinal flavor in his mouth did Qin Duoye slowly exhale.

Damn it. He had hated bitter things in both his lives!

With the guest gone, the house suddenly fell quiet. Sanjiu stood nearby, hesitating as though he wanted to say something but did not dare open his mouth.

Qin Duoye noticed and adjusted his expression, doing his best to appear more approachable.

“Sanjiu, if you have something to say, just say it.”

Sanjiu shook his head. Until today, he had always felt that the master was not so different from him—that they were people of the same station, and that he could speak freely without fear.

But now, Sanjiu no longer dared. He felt that the master had somehow acquired an indescribable presence, one that made him unconsciously want to bend his back and lower his head. It frightened him for no reason he could name.

“All right, then. I have something to tell you.”

Qin Duoye beckoned Sanjiu to come closer, then placed a silver-note deed in his hands.

“I know you’ve looked after me diligently for more than ten years. But I no longer need anyone to care for me, and you’re reaching the age when you should start a family. Take this money and consider it preparation for the future.”

Sanjiu accepted the deed blankly. It took him a long while to understand what Qin Duoye meant.

His eyes widened in disbelief. He hurriedly pushed the deed back, then dropped to his knees with a thud and seized Qin Duoye by the hem of his robe.

“Master, I don’t want the money! Please don’t send me away!”

Tears poured from Sanjiu’s eyes.

“Master saved Sanjiu’s life. I don’t want to start a family. I only wish to keep looking after you forever.”

Qin Duoye sighed.

There was no denying that Sanjiu’s feelings were genuine. He truly wished to remain at Wen Qinghe’s side forever.

But there was also no denying that Sanjiu had indeed done certain things that betrayed his master.

Sanjiu was merely an ordinary person, like the countless people who came and went beneath the heavens—kind-hearted, yet struggling, wavering, and easily swayed.

“Then tell me plainly. Whom did you meet outside, and what did you say?”

Qin Duoye looked directly into Sanjiu’s tear-filled eyes. Though the words were phrased as a question, his tone was declarative and certain.

Sanjiu’s pupils trembled violently.

Judging by that reaction, there was no doubt.

“Don’t be afraid. I’m not blaming you.”

Looking at the boy, who was barely in his teens, Qin Duoye softened his voice as much as possible.

“And I’m not sending you away either. Believe me.”

Sanjiu choked back a sob.

“Master…”

“Yes, I’m listening. Don’t rush. Take your time.”

“It was Lord Liu…”

Sanjiu’s voice dropped low with guilt and shame, and the end of each word trembled.

“For some time now, I’ve been urging you to accept Lord Liu’s deal whenever I was at your side… And today, when I went out to buy provisions, I went to tell Lord Liu first that you had returned…”

“It’s nothing serious. There’s no need to be afraid.”

Qin Duoye reached out and gently stroked Sanjiu’s tousled head.

“Can you tell me why?”

Feeling the tender pressure on his crown, Sanjiu sniffed and nodded.

“Lord Liu found my younger sister. She’s a maid in a household, and they say she’s about to be sold as someone’s concubine… Lord Liu said that if I agreed to work for him, he would redeem her contract of servitude so that we could be reunited.”

So that was it.

As expected, the child was not simply wicked. Perhaps he had thought that speaking a few words for someone and passing along a message could not possibly harm his master. That was why he had acted despite his fear and unease.

But once the thought of betraying his master had taken root, he was destined never to become a trusted confidant again.

Qin Duoye did not know how Wen Qinghe would have dealt with Sanjiu, and he could not be bothered to speculate. He had no intention of making things difficult for a child.

He took the final silver-note deed from the box and placed it together with the first one in Sanjiu’s hands.

“Will these be enough to redeem your sister’s contract?”

Sanjiu froze. He stared blankly at the money in his hands, then looked up at Qin Duoye in disbelief. With his free hand, he nervously rubbed the corner of his robe.

After a long silence, he whispered, “One… one of these is more than enough.”

“Good.”

Qin Duoye did not wish to say more.

“Keep the other one as well. I’ll be moving into the palace in a few days, so I probably won’t return often. Once you’ve redeemed your sister, you can bring her here to live with you. Use the remaining money to maintain the household and cover your daily expenses. If it isn’t enough, send a letter to the palace, and I’ll give you more.”

“M-Moving into the palace?!”

Sanjiu was stunned. He completely forgot the rest of Qin Duoye’s words, his gaze drifting involuntarily to the bite mark at Qin Duoye’s shoulder and neck. Realizing that he had been impolite, he hurriedly looked away and struggled to ask,

“Master, is it true that you’re… a male favorite?”

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Of course it was false. If it were true, I would chop Qin Xuanxiao’s head off.

How dare he take his own ancestor into the palace as a male favorite? What outrageous impiety.

Qin Duoye rolled his eyes inwardly but showed nothing on his face. He still needed this identity, so naturally he had to claim to the outside world that he was a male favorite. Sanjiu could not be trusted, so there was no reason to tell him. Even if he could be trusted, there would still be no need.

“Sanjiu, go have dinner. You don’t need to come to the main house tonight. I’ll read for a while and then go to sleep.”

Sanjiu first looked incredulous, then suddenly seemed to think of something and brightened.

“Master, don’t force yourself! You can appeal to the head family! There must be a way! The officials won’t simply stand by and watch you—”

“That’s enough, Sanjiu.”

Qin Duoye frowned slightly and interrupted him. His tone remained gentle, yet Sanjiu’s voice stopped at once. Qin Duoye waved a hand, signaling him to leave.

“My decision is made. There is nothing more to say.”

The tenderness of moments before vanished in an instant. The majesty of twelve years as emperor made his words impossible to question.

The door of the main house closed.

Qin Duoye picked up the history books Sanjiu had just bought, changed into his sleeping clothes, poured himself a cup of clear tea, and sat behind the writing desk.

His long fingers brushed lightly over the title page. Dignified lines of text were arranged across it.

The fragrance of tea drifted through the air.

Qin Duoye closed his eyes and slowly exhaled.

He—this soul that should have died long ago—had awakened in a later age.

With his eyes closed, the years of his former life flashed through the darkness like scenes from a dream. He had grown up on the frontier, while the capital was a place of treacherous intrigue. As the heir of a prince, he had somehow become a puppet under the rule of eunuchs.

In the first year, he reclaimed power and purged the court.

In the third, he spent his days amid war and personally led campaigns to quell the rebellions.

In the fifth, the world laid down its weapons, and the nations came to pay tribute.

In the seventh, he reformed the government, allowing the people to rest and recover.

In the ninth, he transformed the realm through reform and filled the state coffers.

In the eleventh, he established the Great Wei’s age of peace and prosperity.

Then, in the autumn winds of the twelfth year of Anping, he died suddenly of an illness.

The history books recorded no more than a few brief lines. But who could know the weight of the countless bones beneath a golden crown?[2]

In this life, I settled the affairs of the realm. As for right and wrong, merit and blame, and what the future may bring, I shall leave those matters to later generations—to judge and to shape for themselves.

Later generations…

I am probably the first emperor ever to see the realm and the empire after his own death.

Hmph. This is what I deserve after a lifetime of doing good and accumulating virtue!

Qin Duoye slowly opened his eyes. The candle flame flickering on the desk gleamed in his dark pupils, lending them a fierce brilliance. The emperor of a former age slowly turned the pages of the history books from the future.

Emperor Chenglie of Wei died in the twelfth year of Anping. The entire nation mourned.

Qin Duoye’s fingertip passed over that line before he continued reading.

Afterward, his younger brother Qin Zezhi took up the burden of the throne and continued the Anping era name. In the fifteenth year, the granaries were full, no one picked up what had been dropped in the streets, and households no longer locked their doors at night.

At the beginning of the year, an auspicious radiance appeared in the heavens. Purple vapors rose from the east like the wings of a phoenix, and the era name was consequently changed to Xingfeng. A general amnesty was proclaimed throughout the realm.

Later, the northern frontier began to stir after Qin Duoye’s death, growing restless and unruly.

Fortunately, his younger brother was no less formidable in war. He had beaten the northern tribes until they fled in disgrace, with their tails between their legs.

In the eleventh year of Xingfeng, Qin Zezhi abdicated in favor of his eldest son. He became Retired Emperor and spent his days traveling through mountains and waters with his wife and daughters.

When Qin Duoye reached this passage, he could not help laughing aloud.

His younger brother must have been thinking as he ran away, Brother, I’ve kept the age of prosperity safe for you. I can’t bear this exhausting throne any longer. I’m off to enjoy myself.

He had been like that since childhood.

Qin Duoye smiled faintly and gently touched the words on the page.

The mist rising from the teacup held the worldly affections unknown to the world.

Who would have thought that the lively little child of those days would one day become no more than a few lines of black ink in the history books?

That undisciplined boy had actually stood alone after Qin Duoye’s death and become the enlightened ruler praised by every subject.

Qin Duoye kept smiling, yet suddenly felt like crying.

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He casually wiped his eyes and gave a self-mocking smile.

What happened to me? I changed bodies and somehow became sentimental too. I’m far too old for this…

In the nineteenth year after his abdication, Qin Zezhi died peacefully of old age and was buried in the imperial mausoleum.

All his relatives and friends had been buried a century before.

Why was he the only one left to witness the scenes of later generations, while watching those who had come before turn to ash?

Qin Duoye gazed toward the records of the past, and all he saw were the tombs of old friends.

He hurriedly set down the history book, raised his head, and slowly blinked. Once the blurriness before his eyes had gradually cleared, he continued reading.

Twenty-five years after Qin Zezhi’s accession, his eldest son died of illness. Eleven years later, the next emperor contracted an illness during a tour and died. Fourteen years after that…

From the death of Emperor Chenglie of Wei until now, exactly one hundred years had passed.

The wheat, harvested once every year, had been reaped a hundred times by now.

Outside the window, the night was dark and starless. A full moon hung high in the sky—the same moon that had once illuminated the figure of Emperor Chenglie of Wei a hundred years before.

The darkness enveloped the residence and the main house.

Inside, a single lamp burned like a bean of light, while a single book spread its sail and carried a soul from a hundred years ago slowly through the storms and waves of history.

Qin Duoye’s back remained straight as he sat alone before the desk. The lonely candle stretched his shadow long and far, warming the light with a soft glow while carving the darkness into deep relief.

On the roof of the main house, a black figure lay concealed in the darkness. It flickered once, then vanished in the direction of the imperial palace.

Imperial Palace, Hanzhang Hall.

Chi Xuan knelt on one knee beneath the steps and reported to Qin Xuanxiao every detail he had observed.

Qin Xuanxiao raised his brows from time to time, clicking his tongue in admiration.

“He really said that? Hahaha, Liu Xuanhai deserved it.”

“He actually did nothing to that servant who betrayed him?”

“You say he was reading… history books? Why did he suddenly decide to read history books?”

Chi Xuan only knew how to deliver reports and did not dare answer Qin Xuanxiao’s questions. Qin Xuanxiao had not expected him to reply anyway; he was merely talking to himself.

Even so, Chi Xuan had never seen his sovereign take such an interest in anyone.

“It’s this late, and he still hasn’t gone to sleep. Hah. Does he think he’s too healthy?”

After hearing the final report, Qin Xuanxiao gave a cold snort. He paced twice through the hall before calling out,

“Gou Hongyang, when you deliver breakfast and his medicine tomorrow morning, don’t knock on the door. Wait until he wakes up. Chi Xuan will tell you then, and only then should you knock.”

Gou Hongyang hurriedly lowered his head and acknowledged the order. Yet once his head was bowed, his eyes widened like bronze bells.

Did His Majesty’s words not mean that he was ordering them not to disturb Wen Qinghe’s sleep?

What did this mean?

Did it mean that His Majesty, who was known never to care about the lives or deaths of his ministers, had actually taken the initiative to concern himself with one minister’s health and sleep?

This was terrifying. Was this truly the tyrannical emperor everyone knew?

Or could it be that His Majesty had really taken a liking to that minister?

In that case, when he delivered the medicine tomorrow, perhaps he should mention His Majesty’s instructions a little more explicitly.

Hopefully, that minister would not be foolish enough to fail to appreciate such favor.

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