Chapter 4#
The First CP, Pang-Li#
There are way too many things to complain about with this broken Golden Finger! Li Zhao accepted the fact that he became an emperor without a partner quite well; the spoiler would just make his life a bit difficult for a while—it was a disadvantage, but also an opportunity.
But that streamer can’t just make up partners for him out of thin air!! Based on his experience surfing the web in his past life, he had no doubt that “CP fans” in the future could find “sugar” even in a pile of glass shards.
What if these straightforward ancient people believed it all to be true? Where would his reputation and integrity go?
One moment he had just solemnly promised Ming Zhen that he had no interest in marriage and even if he did, he only sought one heart for a lifetime; the next moment, the sky screen goes, “Hey, brother, these are all my CPs.”
What would Ming Zhen think? Would he believe the living Li Zhao, or the vivid, well-spoken conclusions from the future?
Just thinking about that scene, Li Zhao felt like he could carve out another Prince Rui Manor with his toes. It was a public execution, a massive “social death” event!
While his mind was frantically complaining, the fairy on the sky screen seamlessly switched topics and began a deep dive into the spoilers, her tone carrying a hint of sighs:
【Speaking of Pang Ying, his life is quite touching. It can be summarized in four sentences: He was once a romantic youth bearing the responsibility of family revitalization, then went through a period of dark and unjust exile, then became a terrifying “Imperial Guard Dog,” and finally faced a lonely and desolate old age. It was a life of great ups and downs, full of twists and turns.】
【So, what exactly turned Pang Ying from a young scholar who only wanted to bring honor to his family into a Commander of the Brocade-Clad Guards whom everyone feared? And what kind of inextricable connection does all this have with our Shengzu? Why did Pang Ying revere Shengzu like a god?
All the answers are in the next episode of “A Playful Talk on History.” The streamer will lead everyone on a deep dive into our first CP: the “Salvation Literature” between Pang and Li. Please look forward to it. If you like it, babies, remember to support with a ‘one-click triple-action’ (like, follow, coin)!】
As the fairy finished speaking, the image on the sky screen vanished abruptly. The sky screen returned to its dull grey appearance, hanging strangely in the firmament as if nothing had ever happened.
However, the deathly silence on the white marble square indicated the unease in everyone’s hearts. The air was stagnant, like the suffocating low pressure before a storm.
“Little Ten, come forward.” The Emperor’s complex call broke the dead silence.
Li Zhao quickly suppressed his chaotic thoughts, his mind racing to figure out how to pass this hurdle. With the title of “Great Emperor of the Ages” from the sky screen, his life should be safe.
But his old man’s state of mind at this moment was surely indescribable. He might be secretly pleased that the dynasty would produce a wise ruler, but he would also be furious at potential deception—especially pondering why it was his tenth son who finally stood out and ascended the throne. This current calm was merely the precursor to the coming storm.
He bowed and performed the rites, just as he had for the past eighteen years. But he knew everything was different now; those eyes on the throne might never again look at him with that mix of affection, helplessness, and “resenting that iron isn’t steel” as they had before.
“Li Zhao… Prince Rui…” The Emperor closed his eyes. When he opened them again, his gaze was sharp, and his slow, measured words carried the weight of a thousand catties: “I only ask you one thing. How do you think you will become the winner of that ‘Struggle of the Nine Sons’ in the future? By killing your brothers, or… killing your father?”
As the words “killing your father” came out, the ministers knelt in horror, heads lowered, not daring to look at the Emperor.
Only Li Zhao snapped his head up, eyes wide in a moment of shock and utter disbelief. “Father! I grew up at your knee and was favored more because of my weak health. I dare say none of my brothers have received more imperial love than I have; this is the confidence you gave me!”
He lowered his eyes, but his voice was clear and firm. “I respect you and love you; this is true, Heaven is my witness. I do not know what kind of fate awaits me in the future, but I will not do anything against my conscience. Living one’s life, one only seeks to have a clear conscience.”
“A ‘clear conscience,’ indeed.” The Emperor stared at him intently, his gaze wanting to pierce through the skin to see the soul within.
After a long time, the tight line of his jaw loosened slightly.
Li Zhao’s unwavering gaze and that perfectly timed hint of grievance were like a key that instantly unlocked his buried memories.
Li Zhao’s birth was accompanied by the first heavy snow of the seventh year of Yuanhe. That snow fell for an entire day, accumulating in a thick layer—a truly auspicious sign for the people of Sheng who had experienced drought that year.
In that auspicious omen, he had picked up his newly born tenth son, and the infant had actually given him a toothless smile. It was the first time since becoming Emperor that he felt the sensation of being a new father again.
But the next day, Li Zhao fell into a coma, beyond the reach of medicine. While the Noble Consort wept and the imperial physicians were at a loss, they were fortunate that Monk Mingwu from Dajue Temple intervened. He said Li Zhao’s “Heavenly Soul” was unstable and he needed to be nourished by “Dragon Qi” for three years, and must pretend to be a girl until he was fifteen to stabilize it.
From then on, there was a little “dumpling” by the side of the Sheng Emperor. At first, he worried the child would be noisy while he discussed matters and reviewed memorials, but Li Zhao was heartbreakingly well-behaved.
Initially, Li Zhao was always asleep, but slowly his waking hours grew longer.
When the Emperor discussed matters with ministers, Li Zhao would be in a small cubicle; when he reviewed memorials, Li Zhao would entertain himself in the main hall. If he was hungry, thirsty, or needed a change, he would only give a few whimpers—he never caused a scene. To the point that the Emperor would often forget he was there.
Only during the Emperor’s moments of fatigue would he wobble over and use a child’s playful words to dispel the weariness. He had watched this child grow from babbling to a young man. That sense of accomplishment and father-son affection from raising him personally was deeply rooted.
Even though Li Zhao later became famous as a profligate, the Emperor knew that Li Zhao was good at heart.
Though a profligate, he didn’t indulge in wine or women, didn’t oppress the weak, and was often reported for being overly meddlesome out of a warm heart. He would even pay out of his own pocket to help soldiers disabled by war. He was just a bit lacking in learning.
And at this moment, that same sincerity from his childhood was silently knocking on the Emperor’s heart.
He also saw the grievance in Li Zhao’s eyes. But he was not only a father but also an emperor; he couldn’t just ignore his other sons for the sake of one.
“Remember what you said today.” The Emperor looked deeply at Li Zhao, his gaze a mix of scrutiny and a trace of weariness.
“Wang De.”
“This old servant is here.”
“Take men and escort Prince Rui back to his manor. No one is to enter or leave without my command.”
“I obey the decree.”
The Emperor’s gaze swept across the field and stopped on several of his sons, exuding authority without anger. “I don’t want any ‘mishaps’ to occur recently. All of you, disperse.”
“We/This son dare not. We respectfully see off Your Majesty.” As for what “mishaps” referred to, everyone understood perfectly.
“Your Highness, please.” Eunuch Wang stepped forward with two teams of guards, supporting him respectfully.
Li Zhao felt a bit melancholy; he hadn’t expected it to pass like this.
“Thank you, Eunuch.” Li Zhao wore his usual smile, as if the heart-pounding moments from just now had never happened. Li Zhao looked at his father’s back and felt that, compared to the tall figure in his memory, he seemed slightly aged. A hint of bitterness rose in his heart. “I should stop making the old man angry from now on.”
He took one last look in the direction his father had left and asked softly, “Eunuch Wang, do you think if I personally make a fish for my father tomorrow to apologize, he’ll throw both me and the fish out of the palace?”
Eunuch Wang smiled like a Maitreya Buddha. “Your Highness, the Emperor’s mind is hard to fathom. But the intention is what matters; it’s always good.”
Li Zhao smiled and walked toward the palace gates. The wind starts from the tip of the duckweed; the great changes have quietly begun.
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The carriage moved slowly on the way back to the manor. From outside the curtain, the faint sounds of the townspeople’s discussions drifted in:
“Did you hear? The immortal in the sky said we’re going to have a Great Emperor of the Ages!”
“A Great Emperor of the Ages? Like the First Emperor of Qin building the Great Wall, or Emperor Wu of Han seeking immortality? Oh Heavens, we’ve only had a few years of peace…”
“What do you know! Didn’t the fairy say he’s the ‘Sage-Literary-Martial Emperor’? One with ‘Sage’ in the title must be a reincarnation of a sage; it’s a good thing!”
“Hmph, what business of ours are the matters of the nobility? As long as they let us eat our fill, he’s a good emperor…”
Inside the carriage, Li Zhao couldn’t help but chuckle hearing the conversation of these peddlers.
“Why is Your Highness laughing?” Eunuch Wang, sitting to the side, asked warmly.
“Listen,” Li Zhao pointed outside the window. “What the people seek has been nothing but those three words: ’eating their fill’ since ancient times. So simple, yet so difficult.”
“Your Highness is wise. The simplest wishes are often the hardest to fulfill. Natural and man-made disasters never depend on people’s wishes.”
Li Zhao said no more. No matter what the sky screen spoiled, life must go on. At this moment, he infinitely missed those seeds that once fed billions: corn, potatoes, sweet potatoes, and that golden hybrid rice.
The carriage gradually stopped; they had arrived at Prince Rui’s Manor.
Li Zhao stepped forward to block the carriage door and took an exquisite golden walnut from his robe, neatly pressing it into Eunuch Wang’s hand. “Eunuch, this is a small trinket I recently obtained; take it to play with. No need to see me in; just return and report to Father for me. Also, please look after Father’s health; don’t let him overwork himself.”
After speaking, he waved his hand nonchalantly and stepped inside without looking back. The accompanying imperial guards immediately took over the manor’s defense.
“Your Highness! You’re finally back!” The steward, Fugui, hurried to meet him. “Young Master Ming has been here for a while, and Pang Ying is here too! What the heavenly fairy said…”
Li Zhao rubbed his face and interrupted him. “Fugui, don’t ask yet. Is everything alright in the manor?”
“All is well. Shortly after the celestial phenomenon appeared, Young Master Ming arrived. He’s waiting in your study.”
“I’ll go see him now.”
Having just crossed the corridor, he saw Ming Zhen coming out to meet him. Among the scattered pavilions in the distance, he stood in green robes, his ink-black hair like a waterfall, his bearing elegant. A gust of cold wind swept past, lightly blowing his hem; every movement exuded refined scholarly grace.
Li Zhao frowned inwardly: In this twelfth lunar month, wearing so little? Isn’t he afraid of freezing?
While thinking, Ming Zhen had already approached.
“Are you alright?” There was an undetectable trace of concern in his voice.
“Why are your hands so cold?” Li Zhao spoke at the same time, grabbing his slightly cold fingers.
Ming Zhen let him hold them, carefully looking Li Zhao over from head to toe. Seeing no abnormalities except for some wrinkles in his robes and no stiffness in his movements, he finally felt a little relieved.
“Still able to worry about whether I’m cold or not,” the corner of his mouth curved slightly, but his tone took a faint turn. “It seems you are unharmed. Let’s go to the study; Pang Ying is still waiting for you. I just wonder… when does Azhao plan to bring him into the household?”