Chapter 304

Inside the carriage, Li Linshan gazed at Wang Xiujin—he had grown thin, looked frail and sickly. “Seafood at the harbor?” Li Linshan went straight to the heart of the matter as soon as he opened his mouth. Wang Xiujin offered a sheepish smile, tacitly admitting to Li Linshan’s words. Li Linshan could only sigh in resignation. Yachang glanced at his little father and then at his main father; his main father understood his little father so well that just from looking at him, he could guess what he’d been up to.

“I only ate a little, probably didn’t spit out all the sand,” Wang Xiujin confessed. Thankfully, he’d told others he was inspecting their business; if the real reason was to welcome the army, but he returned to the capital later than the troops, he’d be laughed at for sure. “Did you get hurt on the battlefield?” He quickly shifted the topic, feeling that dwelling any longer would only worsen Li Linshan’s mood.

“No injuries, I wasn’t in the main force.” Li Linshan held Wang Xiujin’s hand tightly. “Don’t eat seafood again in the future—don’t give me cause to worry.” He didn’t intend to make a fuss of the matter. Seeing the concern in Li Linshan’s eyes, Wang Xiujin could only nod. Missing a bite was nothing; it wasn’t as though abstaining would kill him, so why trouble those closest to him?

Yachang sat between the two, now old enough to sense he was being completely ignored by his two fathers. He blinked his large eyes at his main father, opened his mouth as if to speak, but realized that with the silent exchange of glances between his fathers, even if he spoke, he’d never get a word in—he might as well keep quiet and pretend he didn’t exist.

The carriage stopped at the gates of the General’s Residence. Li Linshan hopped off first, lifted his son down, then carefully helped Wang Xiujin out, as though Wang Xiujin were made of glass. Wang Xiujin didn’t mind; as he stepped down, he smiled at Li Linshan. “You must have been busy these past two days since returning to the capital.”

“Not at all. I wasn’t among the main troops—just handled battlefield cleanup. The honors and rewards don’t come to us; it was merely a handover, and then I could rest for a few days.” Li Linshan spoke while guiding Wang Xiujin into the courtyard, never forgetting to keep a watchful eye on Yachang.

Wang Xiujin nodded. “It doesn’t matter if there are no honors or rewards. As long as we’re safe, that’s enough.” The Li family had earned enough military merit; they didn’t need further embellishments. The current emperor was wise and wouldn’t feel threatened by too much merit, but if a more suspicious ruler were in power, would the Li family enjoy their current glory? Such rulers would wipe out entire families in the name of benevolence.

Li Linshan said nothing, only held Wang Xiujin’s hand more tightly. He knew Wang Xiujin cared little for fame or rank. The two walked side by side, exchanging glances now and then. Though they hadn’t seen each other for a long time, there was no awkwardness—only longing in their eyes. With Yachang, they first paid respects to the elders before returning to their own courtyard, suppressing any urge to immediately embrace one another. Their gaze lingered together so much that even bystanders would find it sickeningly sweet, but the two cared not; whatever they did, their eyes invariably sought each other, reading one another’s hearts in every look.

Yachang, following them in, soon couldn’t bear it and found an excuse to retreat to his own room. As he left, he deliberately shivered—his two fathers were simply too lovey-dovey.

That night, passions ran high; after months of drought, sweet rain finally fell. The next day, Wang Xiujin couldn’t get out of bed. Yachang was delivered to his grandfather by Li Linshan, who then made rounds at the camp and the Ministry of War before returning home, only to find Wang Xiujin still asleep. Li Linshan sat by the bedside watching Wang Xiujin, his eyes nearly brimming with affection.

Wang Xiujin awoke to meet Li Linshan’s tender gaze. He tried to speak, but his mouth was parched. He reached for the water cup, but the ache in his lower back forced him to curl up again—good grief, the saying “absence makes the heart grow fonder” was certainly true, but it was a torment.

For several days, Wang Xiujin lived a life unburdened by affairs of state, not even stepping outside the courtyard. Li Linshan handled all apologies to the elders, citing his partner’s ill health—which was no lie. Wang Xiujin felt Li Linshan was determined to make up for months of abstinence in just a few days. Rubbing his sore waist, sitting in the carriage, Wang Xiujin felt like strangling Li Linshan. Though last night had been less intense, the previous days had taken their toll. If not for today’s trip to the harbor, he’d have been subjected to more torment. He reached for a book, but the pain flared, radiating through his body. He gritted his teeth, determined not to groan aloud.

A pair of hands brought the book to him. Wang Xiujin glared at the person, then, too exhausted to even roll his eyes, carefully shifted his body to lean against the cushions and read. Li Linshan’s eyes brimmed with laughter; he held Wang Xiujin’s foot in his hand. If only his body weren’t so sore, Wang Xiujin would have returned the favor with a playful jab.

They set out from the capital, carrying an imperial decree to the harbor to welcome the main army’s triumphant return. The primary purpose, of course, was to welcome the Fourth Prince home, though the emperor couldn’t openly say so. Wang Xiujin thought the emperor simply didn’t know how to boast about his son, so he came up with the idea of sending envoys to greet the victorious troops.

At the harbor, the army had yet to land. Wang Xiujin and Li Linshan hurried to the sea wall, using a telescope to scan the horizon. In the distance, some dark shapes could be seen, though it was unclear whether they belonged to the returning fleet. The young soldier accompanying them up the wall looked serious as he gazed outward, but a closer look would reveal he was actually quite nervous. The ones he escorted were a renowned imperial merchant and a deputy general freshly returned from conquering Kou.

The fires of war in Kou were unseen by these wall guards, but they could imagine the intensity. Previously, they had considered their post safe and enviable, but ever since hearing that the Fourth Prince’s squad had captured the king of Kou alive, and that those accompanying him were trained by Deputy General Li, it was rumored they were now the prince’s personal guards. Such news made them clench their fists—if they could enter the battlefield, might they too become personal guards?

No one knew what the young soldier thought. Even if they did, they’d laugh at his naïveté. Battle meant risking death; those dreaming only of promotion, not sacrifice, were unfit for the battlefield—and perhaps even for guarding the walls.

Wang Xiujin lowered the telescope and handed it to Li Linshan. “They should arrive by afternoon.”

“If there are no storms, they’ll arrive by then. I’ll send someone to notify the ceremonial officers to prepare.” Li Linshan took the telescope, surveyed the sea, then issued commands.

Victorious soldiers had never before been welcomed with such elaborate ceremony, but this time the Fourth Prince was returning as deputy general. The emperor wished to exalt his son, so a proper ceremony was needed. The ceremonial officers scoured the histories for a precedent, finding records of a crown prince’s triumphant return—but that prince was the main commander, so the Fourth Prince fell short by comparison. After much debate, they chose the crown prince’s precedent as a base, then pared it down by comparing it with documented ceremonies for victorious generals.

The ceremonial officers arrived quickly, greeting Wang Xiujin with utmost courtesy. Though not a court official himself, Wang Xiujin’s rank was above theirs; even if they looked down on merchants, they had to show respect. Moreover, Wang Xiujin was backed by the Wang and Li families—no minor ceremonial officer could afford to offend him.

Wang Xiujin noted the tag above the officer’s head and narrowed his eyes. This officer’s mind ran deep; if not for the tag, he’d never guess at the man’s dissatisfaction. Such a person, capable of patience and concealment, would either achieve greatness or quietly serve as a veteran courtier for generations. Wang Xiujin looked away from the officer and instead considered the sea wall—would it still stand hundreds, or even thousands, of years from now? How would future generations regard it? Would it become a scenic landmark, or be destroyed by allied forces? On second thought, that seemed unlikely—Kou had already vanished, and though the current emperor of Liang was warlike, so too was the Fourth Prince. Should he persuade the Fourth Prince to subdue the neighboring states and establish a world hegemony?

His thoughts wandered far. When he returned to himself, he noticed the ceremonial officer had left, and Li Linshan was watching him. “Let’s find somewhere to eat. I haven’t had a proper meal in days—I’d like some rice to settle my stomach.”

Li Linshan nodded in agreement, and they descended the wall together. As they walked, Li Linshan explained the arrangements for welcoming the triumphant army. Wang Xiujin listened attentively at first, then tuned out entirely—he was only there as a companion, and had no idea why the emperor wanted him along.

In the afternoon, back atop the wall with the telescope, the ships were now clearly visible. Wang Xiujin recalled old math problems from elementary school: “A and B start from point A at the same time; A’s speed is xx, and after A reaches the destination, he must wait xx hours for B to arrive. Find B’s speed…” The thought made Wang Xiujin laugh aloud. Li Linshan turned to look; Wang Xiujin suppressed his laughter and waved it off.

The ceremonial officers and soldiers hauled items up the wall, greeting Wang Xiujin and Li Linshan with skillful politeness, explaining each arrangement. Throughout, the ceremonial officer conducted himself with such deference that Wang Xiujin again marveled at the man’s hidden depths.

“Is there something wrong with him?” Li Linshan, knowing Wang Xiujin was a keen judge of character, grew suspicious seeing Wang Xiujin’s intense gaze at the officer.

“You’re overthinking it; not everyone is problematic.” Wang Xiujin didn’t comment further, instead looking into the distance. “We need the ceremonial team to speed up; better to finish early and wait for the army than have the troops wait for us to set up.”

Li Linshan, though not fully convinced, nodded in agreement—the priority was to welcome the army. As for the ceremonial officer, he’d have someone keep an eye on him; he didn’t believe Wang Xiujin would pay such close attention to someone for no reason.

Author’s note: The more I write, the more there is. The foolish author wants to cry—when will it ever end? Looking up at the sky, 166 Reading Network