TCPM 14

 

Chapter 14

Wei Zai had served as a hell-raising demon king for sixteen years, relying on a smooth and flattering tongue to extract rewards from her father. As the youngest daughter, with six older brothers far senior to her, her father never once considered letting her succeed the throne, indulging her blindly instead. As long as she kept him happy, gold and silver bounties flowed without stint, but that was strictly the limit—he was unwilling to surrender even a fraction of a fraction of real power. Wei Zai was clever enough to recognize the boundaries drawn within her father's heart, carefully controlling herself so as not to provoke his annoyance or arouse his suspicions, making her surface favor appear secure enough.

Precisely because of this, Wei Zai had no proper retainers or strategists by her side; ambitious individuals did not flock to her estate, and her precarious situation made it impossible for her to actively seek them out. Before Xu Qingchu arrived, her companions were indeed nothing more than a band of wastrels—largely the most incompetent offspring of various noble houses who refused to align themselves with any faction. For instance, Meng Shitong, the second daughter of the Duke of Ying's third lady, unloved by her mother and ignored by her father; caught right in the middle of a large brood of children in her household, her absence from the dinner table wouldn't even be noticed by anyone. Take Zou Yongjin, for another example: born of a military lineage with both parents stationed away at the border frontiers, she was stranded alone in the capital, destined to remain stuck in the capital for the rest of her life—what use was there in striving for grand ambitions?

Yet even the most seemingly worthless youths possessed a fiery core of blood and spirit. The bloodbath of that year stained far more than just Wei Zai's hands, and the tragic, enraged cries haunting their nightly dreams were not heard by Wei Zai alone. Hatred served as the ultimate whetstone, day and night grinding against the blades hidden within their hearts, but how was that blade to be drawn, and where should it strike? They did not know. Fortunately, there was still Xu Qingchu.

Wei Zai loved to gamble, and her luck had always run remarkably true; destiny delivered the omnipotent Xu Qingchu right into her hands, and relying on her acute, instinctive reflexes, she seized hold of her without a moment's hesitation.

Xu Qingchu stepped into the role of Wei Zai's chief strategist, managing internal and external affairs for Wei Zai, teaching her the forbidden arts of empire-building, helping Wei Zai scheme on how to expand her influence without drawing notice, and even assisting Wei Zai's companions one by one in finding their proper stations. She instructed them on how to hone their blades to razor sharpness and how to wield them when the time came, paving the way for the later Marquis Boyuan Meng Shitong, Marquis Ding'an Zou Yongjin, Marquis Changqing Ye Huaize...

With the handful of trusted confidants and loyal retainers in her hands entirely yielding to Xu Qingchu's commands, how could anyone fail to be moved by such absolute trust? Xu Qingchu had assumed her own heart was carved from unyielding stone, but Wei Zai was like an inconspicuous seed that took root and sprouted within a crack in the rock without anyone noticing. The accumulated strength of that germination grew day by day, until by the time it was finally perceived, that massive barrier had already shattered into countless fragments.

Wei Zai remained completely oblivious to all this. Whenever Xu Qingchu put on her stern face and showed not an ounce of sentimental leniency, Wei Zai failed to see the warm currents flowing beneath that icy exterior; she only knew that the infallible, calculating Xu Qingchu looked breathtaking enough to leave her utterly flustered and starry-eyed. Day after day of living under the same roof allowed her to perceive the stirring of her own romantic spring awakening.

"You tell me, what on earth should 孤 do..." With no one else to confide her overwhelming palpitations to, Wei Zai ultimately sought out her friends for assistance.

Meng Shitong rolled her eyes, leaned in close to her, and lowered her voice. "Isn't this a good thing? Didn't Your Highness previously worry about her origins and loyalties? If Your Highness manages to become her sweetheart, are you still afraid she won't side with Your Highness?"

"You... you're telling 孤 to use feminine wiles to win her favor?" Being lifelong drinking buddies who grew up together, nothing was too outrageous for them to suggest, and Wei Zai actually found herself listening, hesitating as she said, "But... will she ever look upon 0? Setting everything else aside, 孤 is a woman too, you know."

"With how wonderful Our Highness is—such striking appearance and magnificent temperament—how could you possibly be unworthy of her! What of being a woman? Ever since the Ancestor's reign, have accounts of romantic entanglements between women been any rarity?" Zou Yongjin chimed in without a second of hesitation.

This group of self-proclaimed veterans of the floral realms showered Wei Zai with plenty of advice—some workable, some utterly useless—yet overall, Wei Zai felt that she was growing steadily closer to Xu Qingchu.

If she's willing to draw close to me, does that mean she holds feelings for me too? But why doesn't she reveal even the slightest hint of it?

Driven nearly frantic with anxiety, Wei Zai once again sought out her friends for a new scheme, though naturally, the advice this group offered could hardly be considered respectable.

When she and Xu Qingchu drank together until the moon reached the center of the sky without seeing a single trace of intoxication touch Xu Qingchu, Wei Zai finally dawned on a belated realization that this particular strategy was somewhat flawed. Enduring it for as long as she could, she still couldn't resist blurting out to Xu Qingchu: "Why aren't you drunk at all?" Only after the words left her mouth did she realize her mistake; the alcoholic haze making her feel light and floaty caused her to accidentally spill the truth.

Watching her flushed face, Xu Qingchu sighed. "Your Highness, Fengzhou fine wine, and especially the liquor from Lixian, is renowned for being exceptionally potent... Your Highness, shall we continue drinking?"

"No! No more!" Deflated, Wei Zai slumped face-down across her desk, speechless. She had intended to trick Xu Qingchu into speaking the true feelings of her heart while intoxicated, never imagining this path would be blocked from the very start. Having made a complete fool of herself in front of the person she adored, Wei Zai wanted nothing to do with facing her for the time being.

Sitting across from her with the desk between them, Xu Qingchu lowered her gaze onto the crown of Wei Zai's head and asked with a soft smile: "What was Your Highness hoping to ask me by trying to get me drunk?"

Wei Zai sprang back up, straightening her spine to face her directly. "If I ask, will you answer me honestly?"

"That depends on what Your Highness asks."

She was still smiling, yet she was utterly defeated by Wei Zai's next sentence.

Looking straight into her eyes with absolute sincerity, Wei Zai spoke with profound solemnity: "I want to know whether your heart holds feelings for me as well."

Every single syllable was pronounced with crystal clarity, and the deep affection packed within them was glaringly obvious—so stark and direct that it left Xu Qingchu's heart churned into absolute chaos.

Did Xu Qingchu like Wei Zai? Of course she liked her; this affection had no predestined origin, developing naturally through the accumulation of years spent side by side day and night, transforming simply into the constant longing to catch sight of her and the desperate craving for her physical closeness.

Yet she could not afford to. Wei Zai was no ordinary person—she was her sovereign. This world was rotten to its very bones; someone had to step forward to scrape away the poison and cure the disease, and if the corruption had already penetrated deep into the bone marrow, it might even require carving it all out to replace it with an entirely fresh skeleton. Wei Zai was the very bone she had chosen to operate upon, and she herself was destined to be the sharpest blade in all creation, designed to slice open the flesh and blood to excise the rotten marrow. This was her starting point, her ultimate destination, and her inescapable destiny. How could the fish and the meat fall in love with the cleaver? This love was arsenic, a deadly poison that would prompt Wei Zai to expose her most vulnerable spots before leading her to the slaughter. For Xu Qingchu, this kind of love would dull and rust the edge of her blade. When the moment of deepest passion arrived, would she truly be capable of striking down the fatal blow? She did not know.

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