Chapter 19: The Deadlock

Watching Yang Wu with a hint of excitement, Yang Zhan suddenly clapped his hands and laughed, “The plan is quite well conceived. Although countless lives will be wrongfully lost, it cannot overshadow Your Majesty’s unparalleled achievements!”

“Don’t think I can’t hear the sarcasm in your words. It’s because of you that, had it been someone else, they’d have been dragged out and executed long ago!” Yang Wu said, glaring at Yang Zhan.

Yang Zhan showed no fear and grinned widely. “Heh, if it weren’t for me, I doubt anyone else could speak so frankly to you. After hearing so much flattery, it’s good to hear a few honest words now and then.”

“That’s exactly what infuriates me the most. Can’t you learn from others and show a little respect to your emperor? Or do you think you can be a prison warden without any sense of propriety?” Yang Wu retorted.

Yang Zhan countered, “Back then, when you wanted me to turn my blade against the Martial King, I refused. When I said a few kind words, you stopped me from guarding the Heavenly Prison?”

Yang Wu didn’t answer directly but instead asked, “Knowing full well I would punish you, why did you come back at my command?”

Yang Zhan spread his hands. “No matter what, I’m a citizen of Great Xia. You don’t know how deeply I feel connected to the name ‘Xia’!”

Yang Wu seemed weary and pointed toward a chair. Yang Zhan pulled the chair over and helped Yang Wu sit down.

Sighing, Yang Wu’s expression turned somber. “One Martial King can secure Great Xia’s peace for countless generations, free from barbarian threats. Why can’t you understand the need for sacrifice?”

Yang Zhan frowned. “The answer’s the same as before. The Martial King is innocent; he didn’t rebel. He even supplied my Divine Martial Army with plenty of provisions—anything we wanted. He may not have performed great feats, but he’s been loyal to Great Xia, to Your Majesty, and to me. I can’t bring myself to turn my blade against him. Besides, if we’re to deal with the barbarians, what difference does it make whether the Martial King is present or not?”

Yang Wu’s face grew cold. “The Martial King’s domain is vast, and he commands a formidable army. Don’t you know? If he ever turns traitor, you’ll be caught between enemies on all sides. Great Xia’s elite forces could be toppled overnight. If he marches south, can our empire endure?”

Yang Zhan’s tone sharpened with anger. “You’re only suspicious, and for a mere possibility someday, you’re willing to sacrifice the Martial King’s entire family and countless soldiers? How can you say that so lightly?”

Yang Wu looked at Yang Zhan with an inscrutable gaze, then suddenly mocked himself. “No matter how much I say now, you won’t listen. But have you ever wondered why I wanted you to devise a plan that leads to the Martial King’s death beneath the barbarian army? According to your logic, as emperor, I could have taken the Martial King’s lands and military power gently, even allowed his family to live in comfort and luxury in Heavenly Capital.”

Yang Zhan remained silent.

“Silent? Then I must be right. But why do you think I didn’t do that? Do you think I’m so cold-blooded and bloodthirsty?”

Yang Zhan frowned. “Your reputation has never been good—too suspicious.”

Yang Wu looked at Yang Zhan. “If one imperial edict can summon you back, do you think one edict can’t summon the Martial King?”

Yang Zhan was speechless. “Everyone can see you have designs on the Martial King. Of course, he wouldn’t dare return.”

“Then why do you think so many know about it? Did you spread those rumors?”

“I’ve never said a word about it.”

Yang Zhan frowned again.

Yang Wu laughed. “Before you refused my secret order, I already sent word for the Martial King to come to Heavenly Capital. He never came back. You didn’t know that, did you?”

Yang Wu fixed a deep gaze on Yang Zhan. “But when I sent you the order, you, this stubborn boy, came back.”

“I have nothing to be ashamed of. Why wouldn’t I return?”

“Then does that mean the Martial King has a guilty conscience?”

Yang Zhan laughed. “Old man, at your age, you twist me around with just a few words.”

“See? I told you, you won’t listen no matter what I say. What a waste of my breath. Give me some wine to soothe my throat!”

Yang Zhan handed the wine to Yang Wu.

This time, Yang Wu drank little.

Yang Zhan said, “No matter what, the Martial King has done nothing against Great Xia and has helped my Divine Martial Army greatly. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have so quickly dealt a heavy blow to the barbarian forces.”

Yang Wu passed the wine jar back to Yang Zhan.

Yang Zhan took it and looked seriously at Yang Wu. “If things had gone according to your plan, old man, and I became King of the North, and seized the vast pastures of the barbarian lands, would I become a thorn in your side again? Would my very existence keep you awake at night?”

Yang Wu raised an eyebrow. “Have I ever suspected you of rebellion? Even over these past three years, I never doubted your loyalty to Great Xia!”

“You kept me locked up in Heavenly Capital for three years. Wasn’t that because you feared me?”

Yang Wu shot Yang Zhan a sharp glance. “You think too much. I just hoped you would come to your senses. It’s not too late!”

“And now?”

“I’ve given up!”

After those words, the room fell utterly silent.

The old and young men stared at each other.

After a long pause, Yang Wu suddenly spoke. “I promised you I wouldn’t kill you. Even now, though my patience is gone, I still won’t kill you!”

Yang Zhan said nothing, his expression calm.

Yang Wu smiled, but it was a cold smile. “But you’re still trapped in a deadlock. If you can break free, it will be your life. If you cannot, it will also be your life!”

Yang Wu looked at Yang Zhan with a strange expression.

Suddenly, he stood and patted Yang Zhan on the shoulder.

“Yang Zhan, I have watched you grow. I once had high hopes for you, but now it seems you are too bound by loyalty and righteousness. Not that you’re wrong—I am the one who erred. There is no true right or wrong. Fate governs all, and no one can control even a fraction of it.”

With that, Yang Wu turned and walked toward the rocking chair, hands clasped behind his back.

As he walked, he said, “Enough. Go back. Take this wine with you. If you leave, consider it your farewell drink. If you die, it will be your send-off.”

He turned, stooped slightly, and waved his hand to Yang Zhan without looking back.

Yang Zhan watched the old man’s frail figure. This might be their last meeting—whether alive or dead, he might never see him again.

For some reason, his heart felt heavy.

Yang Zhan clasped his fists. “Take care. I’m leaving!”

Yang Wu didn’t turn his head. He waved again and then sat back down in the rocking chair. The nearby stove continued to emit warm steam.

Yang Zhan lifted the wine jar and left the Hall of Literary Virtue.

At that moment—

Not far away, Han Zhong and others rushed in. Seeing Yang Wu safe, they all breathed a sigh of relief.

Yang Wu closed his eyes and said, “Han Zhong, didn’t the Crown Princess go to see Yang Zhan?”

Han Zhong nodded. “Yes, she was there for a while today. A few days ago, she even sent a maid to Yang Zhan.”

“Hmm, inform the Third Prince of this.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

Han Zhong’s expression grew serious, and he bowed before leaving.

After everyone had gone, Yang Wu closed his eyes and lay back in the rocking chair, looking even older than before.