Chapter 293: Fulfilling The Monarch's Affairs Under Heaven

Chapter 293: To Fulfill the Monarch’s Ambitions for the Realm

Huangfu Yongxian sat directly across from him, his expression still carrying a measure of gravity and deference, as if they were in a meeting.

Zhao Changhe felt he would have preferred Cui Wenjing’s habit of raising his hand to strike—perhaps he was just being perverse.

Then Huangfu Yongxian spoke: “Your Highness… well, Master Zhao refuses to acknowledge it. Is there some special reason? Or is it because of the resentment over being abandoned?”

That was long ago…

Zhao Changhe’s reasons for refusing to acknowledge it were simpler: first, he didn’t want to call another man father; second, he didn’t want to get entangled in court affairs—the very thought made him want to spit blood.

Ever since he felt his path diverged from Xia Longyuan’s, he was even less willing. Calling him “Dad” for his father-in-law’s sake was one thing, but anything else was out of the question.

But this wasn’t easy to say to Huangfu Yongxian. Zhao Changhe pondered for a long while, then chose a different phrasing: “Since I stepped into the martial world, every sword and arrow I’ve earned through my own blood and battle. Perhaps I’ve benefited from certain connections, but I’ve also borne risks equal to them. I can say I rely on myself. Even if being called the Bloodthirsty Asura isn’t a pleasant nickname, I accept it gladly—because no matter how ugly it sounds, it’s something I carved out myself, with no relation to anyone else. Unlike being called a prince, which is really just shouting for the Xia Longyuan behind it, not for me, Zhao Changhe.”

Surprise flickered in Huangfu Yongxian’s eyes. He hadn’t expected such an answer.

He deliberated for a long moment, then ventured: “Then, Master, for what purpose did you risk life and limb, fight behind enemy lines, and lift the siege at Yanmen?”

Zhao Changhe said flatly: “For the same reason you did, General.”

Huangfu Yongxian’s eyes grew even more astonished, yet also more delighted.

But he pressed on: “Now that chaos has erupted across the realm, you have both the status and the ability, yet you continue to drift through the martial world. Wouldn’t that betray the very thing you fought for?”

“Because it’s useless.” Zhao Changhe said. “You people don’t understand Xia Longyuan at all. All the schemes you’ve concocted are laughable in his eyes. Besides, he won’t die—at least not anytime soon, and he certainly doesn’t need a crown prince. Just do your own job and stop overthinking, alright?”

Huangfu Yongxian fell silent.

Zhao Changhe was bursting to talk about Huangfu Qing, but he didn’t know how to bring it up. Could he say: Your daughter, the Imperial Consort—everyone knows it’s just a title. How about we swap her out with a substitute, or have her become a nun and flee? I guarantee Xia Longyuan won’t care…

That implication was far too obvious. Huangfu Yongxian would surely lose his mind on the spot.

Besides, Huangfu Qing herself felt it was meaningful. What use was there in telling her father?

And frankly, Zhao Changhe dared not think of Huangfu Qing as the Vermilion Bird; even Ying Wu and the others only dared to guess at the possibility. A serious issue was that the Vermilion Bird’s cultivation surpassed Huangfu Yongxian’s, ranking higher, with a fearsome reputation. Most people wouldn’t even consider that angle—the mainstream theory was that the rebel Vermilion Bird might assassinate Huangfu Yongxian…

Ying Wu and his crew had exhausted countless possibilities trying to identify the Vermilion Bird before they couldn’t help but speculate about Huangfu Qing, who had once been as famous as Tang Wanzhuang. But they had no proof, only idle jokes.

In truth, Huangfu Yongxian couldn’t control what Huangfu Qing did. This padded jacket wasn’t just letting in the wind—it was already riding on her father’s head.

Across from him, Huangfu Yongxian remained silent for a long while, unsure how to proceed. Before coming to “visit the sick,” he had anticipated that Zhao Changhe would play the role of a humble sage, thumping his chest with grand talk of national enterprise, and then he would subtly indicate his approval and willingness to serve. Host and guest would part in mutual satisfaction, the crown prince would secretly win over the Northern Army, and the Northern Army would gain a stable political backer.

But how had it turned out like this? Zhao Changhe kept tossing hot potatoes, while he himself was the one urging him to take over.

Damn it, did you want the Northern Frontier Army or not?

Yet Zhao Changhe was right—as long as Xia Longyuan lived, all their plans were laughable.

Huangfu Yongxian seemed to have aged another ten years. He leaned back wearily in his chair, and after a long pause, said: “Your Highness… Master Zhao, do you realize that what you think no longer matters? As things stand, if you continue roaming the martial world, you’ll be in greater danger than ever—more than when you first left Beimang. The Wang family will stop at nothing to kill you, and it’s not just them. Do you know that flames of war are rising everywhere now, with more and more warlords declaring independence? They will all want you dead. Every step you take in the martial world will be a thorny path.”

Zhao Changhe smiled: “Then let them come. I’m just worried I don’t have enough enemies to sharpen myself against. That includes the Listening Snow Pavilion—don’t you dare back down.”

Huangfu Yongxian was caught between laughter and tears. He shook his head and shifted to more mundane topics: “Batu’s submission will definitely go through—unless His Majesty deliberately obstructs it…”

He paused there, as if unsure whether Xia Longyuan might indeed pull such a stunt, then continued: “By then, Batu will control all of Mobei, forming a shield north of Yanmen. He’s already broken with the Temple, so he must rely on our support as his backbone. In the short term, relations between us will be very cordial… Actually, I think, setting everything else aside, as long as you remain in the Central Plains, Batu won’t dare harbor any treacherous thoughts…”

Zhao Changhe said: “I wouldn’t be so sure. Don’t let his simple appearance fool you—he’s as cunning as a fox.”

Huangfu Yongxian shook his head: “When I met with Batu earlier, he kept craning his neck to see if you were around. The moment he learned you weren’t, he seemed to puff up by three inches, his voice growing louder. It’s clear that Batu fears you as a person—he couldn’t even hide it. You may not realize, Master, how much your exploits have shaped both sides’ perceptions. It’s no exaggeration to say your name shakes the northern frontier.”

Zhao Changhe asked: “So what are you getting at, General?”

“Huangsha Market remains a vital hub for trade and commerce. It’s crucial. Now we believe we must get a foothold there—we can’t leave it entirely to Batu, or where’s the profit from this war? We should station troops, at least on both sides. But stationing troops in their core territory is a sensitive matter. It may require you to negotiate personally with Batu, or it might be difficult to settle.”

“No need.” Zhao Changhe said. “I’ll recommend someone to be the civil governor of Huangsha Market, and that’ll be that.”

“Who?”

“Let Yuan Sanniang be the commander of Huangsha Market. Both sides can station troops, and she’ll mediate and balance them. Her people were already planning to set up nearby to develop the secret realm, so Ying Wu will be very pleased with this arrangement. Besides, Sanniang is greedy for money—this convenience will have her grinning from ear to ear. Even if she doesn’t want to stay long-term, she can find a proxy. With Ying Wu backing her, can Batu still refuse?”

Huangfu Yongxian asked in surprise: “Let a martial artist take charge… Can you trust Yuan Sanniang, Master?”

From the Great Xia’s standpoint, no—she was a staunch rebel, just like your daughter.

But from a personal standpoint, of course he could trust her, just as he trusted your daughter.

Zhao Changhe didn’t say that. He only said: “Just listen to me. It’ll be fine.”

Huangfu Yongxian said: “If Batu sees Sanniang as your representative, then perhaps it really will be fine.”

Zhao Changhe: “…”

A hint of a smile crept onto Huangfu Yongxian’s face: “Very well. Since it’s your arrangement, this old servant naturally obeys.”

Zhao Changhe: “…Enough, General. You’ve been on the move nonstop—aren’t you tired? Go rest. I need to rest too.”

Huangfu Yongxian leaned back wearily in his chair again, murmuring almost inaudibly to himself: “To fulfill the monarch’s ambitions for the realm…”

Pity the white hairs born.

Zhao Changhe stared blankly at his white hair, long silent.

Their conversation ended there. Zhao Changhe never managed to bring up the daughter, and Huangfu Yongxian never managed to voice the Northern Army’s allegiance to the crown prince.

What needed to be said had been said.

“Rest well, Master.” Huangfu Yongxian took his leave. Not long after, a flash of red, and Yue Hongling slipped into the room, bolting the door behind her.

Zhao Changhe pulled her tightly into his arms: “Sister, let’s find another place to heal. I don’t want to stay here anymore. I’m so tired.”

Yue Hongling gently patted his back, soothing him like a child: “Alright. Where to?”

“In this bitter northern winter, with heavy snow falling and the green mountains turning white, do you ever feel like revisiting old haunts, Sister?”

Yue Hongling was taken aback, recalling the Beimang of that time, the trap pit in the snow, the bandit chief’s wife by Zhao Laoda’s side.

She looked up slightly, meeting Zhao Changhe’s expectant, sparkling eyes, and couldn’t help but smile: “Still such a child.”

Zhao Changhe protested: “I’m just nostalgic.”

“Mm.” Yue Hongling’s heart softened. She knew he truly was nostalgic—so deeply sentimental, it filled her with joy.

She leaned softly against Zhao Changhe’s chest, her voice tender: “You haven’t called me ‘sister’ much lately. You’ve been acting like the head of the household, calling me ‘Hongling.’ Why are you back to ‘sister’ today?”

Zhao Changhe was lost in thought too.

Perhaps it was the exhaustion from his injuries, or the endless stream of visitors, the countless decisions he had to make as the one in charge.

Only by her side could he feel he didn’t have to think about anything. Sister was here.

Only Yue Hongling could give him that feeling. Even in the latter half of this battle, she had followed his orders, like a demure little wife… but just seeing her brought an inexplicable peace.

It was the reliance rooted in the first glance of this world.

But instead of saying that, he bit her ear and whispered: “I don’t just want to call you sister—I want to hear you call me something too.”

Yue Hongling’s cheeks flushed all the way to her ears. She stomped on his foot viciously: “Head of the household, are your bones itching? Come on, get inside with me!”