Chapter 759: Spring in the Northern Country

Chapter 759: Spring in the Northern Realm

When they returned to the capital, it was exactly the Spring Festival.

When they left Chang’an, the snow had stopped; but upon reaching the capital, a light snow was falling, not heavy. Everywhere, children in tiger-head felt hats ran about in the snow, building snowmen. The city echoed with the crackle of firecrackers, a scene of jubilation.

None of the three disturbed the city defenses. They chose a secluded spot to land from the air, leading their horses as they strolled, smilingly taking in the sights of the capital.

It had been some time since they left the capital. Back when Lu Jianzhang and his ilk had courted death, the capital was desolate; now it showed signs of spring’s thaw and revival. Though still not as bustling as Chang’an, it had at last begun to take on a proper atmosphere.

That battle had involved many, but under Tang Wanzhuang’s management, the purge had not been expanded. Even Qin Dingjiang and his people had been released, and ordinary folk were completely unaffected. Though the killings seemed many, it could be said that nine out of ten were parasites.

This proved with facts that the prosperity of the mortal world was created by the people, not by any noble houses with bells and cauldrons.

“Oh dear—” A little girl stepped unsteadily in the snow, and with a “plop,” fell forward—but landed on a long, slender leg, not face-first in the mud.

The little girl looked up dazedly. A very pretty, gentle older sister was crouching down to pick her up, saying with a smile, “Watch where you’re going… Where are your parents?”

“Mom called me home for dumplings.”

Huangfu Qing chuckled as she carried the child into a nearby alley: “Is it here?”

“Yes, yes! Auntie, you’re so pretty… and you smell nice.”

“…Not long ago, people called me the little girl of the capital. Call me sister.”

The little girl looked her over and didn’t want to comply.

Huangfu Qing ground her teeth: “Why are people worshipping Buddha in this alley…”

“Some worship Buddha, some worship the Four Symbols.”

“So which do you think is better?”

“Buddha is better—chubby and cute.”

“The Four Symbols are better. Let me tell you, the Vermilion Bird is as pretty as your sister, and you don’t need fire for firecrackers.” Huangfu Qing secretly slipped her a bald-headed spinning top: “See, Buddha is like this.”

The little girl grabbed the top, delighted: “Thank you, sister.”

“Hey? What about believing in the Four Symbols?”

Zhao Changhe and Yue Hongling followed behind, dumbfounded, their heads turning in perfect sync to watch Huangfu Qing carry the girl into the alley, then turning back to look at each other. Both still had their hands extended in a motion to catch the child, never expecting Huangfu Qing to beat them to it—let alone what followed.

They wondered what expression the child’s family would have if they knew the one returning her was the current Empress Dowager. And she even used a toy to mock Buddhism, tricking the child into believing in the Four Symbols. When had she secretly stashed that bald-headed top…

Was this still the Vermilion Bird Sovereign who once shook the world? Forget the past—just over ten days ago, she had bathed Jinzhong in blood, with countless lives on her hands. Where was the resemblance?

“Um… is my understanding of Sister Vermilion Bird somehow off?” Yue Hongling fell into self-doubt, turning to Zhao Changhe. “I heard she was a great demon, but since meeting her, I haven’t felt that…”

“What, did you think she’d tear you apart?”

Yue Hongling tilted her head: “Yeah, I originally wanted to tear her apart too, and I thought she’d be fierce. But she turned out pretty easy to get along with.”

Zhao Changhe opened his mouth, then closed it. He hoped Chi Chi and Wanzhuang would agree with her.

Also, he felt the fiercest toward you might be Chi Chi.

As they spoke, Huangfu Qing emerged from the alley with a smile. Seeing her rare aunt-like expression, Zhao Changhe couldn’t help laughing: “What, successfully hooked another little convert?”

Huangfu Qing laughed: “No need to hook. The capital already mostly believes in the Four Symbols. That so-called Buddha worship I saw was just a formality—a fat statue there. When asked what Buddha it was, they said Tathagata, but it was actually the Medicine King Buddha. They don’t know it as well as I do. But Four Symbols carvings are in every household, and they can recite the doctrines. Looks like they’ve done well, and that Tang wench didn’t sabotage things.”

In high spirits, she scratched Zhao Changhe’s chin teasingly and said, “It wouldn’t look good for me to walk the streets with you. I’ll head back and rest first, not disturb you and your female knight on your private inspection. Little Hezi~ handle tonight as you see fit.”

With that, she turned into a spark and vanished toward the palace, still as brisk and fiery as ever.

Zhao Changhe was about to say he had no intention of a private inspection, but Huangfu Qing was already gone. Yue Hongling laughed: “Then take me to your home for a walk?”

Zhao Changhe: “…”

“What’s wrong?”

“Now that you mention it, I realize I don’t even have a mansion.”

Yue Hongling’s first thought was how selfless and devoted to the state this was—fighting and campaigning for the Han Dynasty, yet not even owning a house. Then she realized: selfless, my foot. He definitely lived in the palace while in the capital, and who knows how debauched it was. He might not even have his own chambers, just sleeping wherever he pleased.

Yue Hongling kicked him angrily and stormed off in a huff.

Zhao Changhe hopped on one leg, clutching his shin, and followed, trying to appease her with a smile.

Yue Hongling glanced at him sideways: “So where to now? Back to the palace, Little Hezi?”

Zhao Changhe had wanted to suggest staying at the Tang residence, but seeing Yue Hongling’s sour expression, he could only smile apologetically: “Nowhere, just strolling. Uh, how about we buy a house?”

Yue Hongling laughed: “Can you afford it?”

Zhao Changhe’s face stiffened. He really couldn’t. No matter where he went—even in the palace or among the Spirit Clan—he could take whatever he wanted, but he’d never actually taken much money. He always just stuffed a few silver ingots into his ring, enough for the road. After all, everyone was short on cash, and Zhao Changhe had almost no material desires.

Now he recalled that the richest he’d ever been was back when he first left the Cui family, when his father-in-law was generous with travel expenses.

Yue Hongling could guess from his expression and found it amusing. Who would have thought that the Han Dynasty’s Prince Zhao, the current tenth on the Heavenly Ranking, roaming the world, might have only a few bits of silver to his name, forever carrying one sword, one blade, one bow, and one flask of wine? Whether to call him a man who owned the four seas or a pauper was debatable.

Though he could have anything he wanted at any time, he never thought to take it. This proved that his heart had never considered his own desires. If there was a flaw, it was his only fault—his wandering eye. Apart from that, Yue Hongling would have suspected he was a saint.

Thinking this way, maybe his wandering eye wasn’t so bad—at least it proved he was human. Yue Hongling sighed, her tense expression softening. She lowered her head, took his hand, and strolled through the light snow, murmuring, “No need to go anywhere… Just walk with me and look at your realm.”

Zhao Changhe fell silent, holding her hand as they slowly walked the capital’s streets. Firecrackers crackled everywhere, the smell of gunpowder in the air oddly pleasant. Every house was decorated in red, a joyful sight.

This was Zhao Changhe’s third Spring Festival since his transmigration.

The first he spent with Yue Hongling in the mountain stronghold; the second found him traveling, and he missed it without noticing. This third would have been the same, but now he could fly—roaming the northern seas at dawn and the southern wilderness at dusk, no longer suffering the hardships of travel. So this third Spring Festival, he was again holding Yue Hongling’s hand, walking through a city that belonged to him.

Every smile on every face brought Zhao Changhe peace. Wasn’t this what he had fought for, through battles north and south, drenched in blood?

He suddenly understood Huangfu Qing’s behavior just now. It wasn’t that her nature had softened, but that the Vermilion Bird as a rebel and “Huangfu Qing, the girl who spent her youth in the capital” had different stances and moods. This was the joy of seeing one’s efforts bear fruit—she had found the meaning of her struggle.

“Hey… isn’t that Yue Hongling?” A passerby finally noticed the two strolling in the snow, recognizing Yue Hongling before their own Prince Zhao.

Someone cautiously approached. Zhao Changhe, annoyed at the intrusion on their private moment, said gruffly, “You’ve mistaken her! This is Yue Hongling of the mountain stronghold!”

“Zhao…” This time someone recognized him. The approaching footsteps paused, but they still gathered around: “Prince Zhao, can you fly now? How were you in Chang’an yesterday and back today?”

A Four Symbols follower puffed out his chest: “This is our Night Emperor! The power of gods and demons—flight is nothing!”

Zhao Changhe “uh”ed, instinctively looking for the Blind One, when someone else said, “Has Prince Zhao truly ascended to the Night Emperor’s throne? We didn’t think so before.”

More Four Symbols followers chimed in: “If Prince Zhao doesn’t become Night Emperor, who will? That convergence of the galaxy, the resonance of the Four Symbols, the sun and moon shining together—even the Sovereign couldn’t achieve that!”

Zhao Changhe: “…”

Not that—becoming Night Emperor is fine, but could you not use the word “ascend”? The gaze of a demon god is already upon you, can’t you feel it?

Though they recognized Yue Hongling first, once they identified Zhao Changhe, it became his stage. Yue Hongling watched from the side, amused. What amused her was that no one feared Zhao Changhe—not his fearsome reputation as the “Bloodthirsty Asura,” not his noble status as “Prince Zhao.” Even the Four Symbols followers dared to critique their own “deity.”

How had this come about? In all her years of wandering the jianghu, Yue Hongling had never seen anything like it.

Their naturalness also made it impossible for Zhao Changhe to vent his frustration at having his private time interrupted. He had to say, “Now that the ancient and modern are connected, no longer divided, the so-called power of gods and demons is merely a new realm after the secret treasury. Everyone can cultivate it. I… this prince will devise some methods—those who meet the conditions can obtain the cultivation techniques for the Imperial Realm, such as through military merits. Whether you can fly then depends on your own efforts.”

The crowd was stunned for a moment, then burst into thunderous cheers: “Long live Prince Zhao!”

Some even turned and ran, presumably to spread the news to their families.

Indeed, his earlier judgment was correct: providing such a ladder for advancement was no less important than opening schools, perhaps even more so.

If done well, not only within the Han Dynasty but even people from elsewhere might flock here—this was truly how to draw all the heroes of the world into the net. He would need to discuss the details with Chi Chi and Wanzhuang later.

“Alright, alright.” Zhao Changhe raised a hand to calm the surging crowd, then cheerfully took Yue Hongling’s hand: “Folks, let us enjoy our walk, will you? Haven’t you heard I’m the Bloodthirsty Asura who kills people?”

People all laughed, and true to their word, parted to form a path: "So Heroine Yue really is the Princess of Zhao now?"

Yue Hongling cast a knowing glance at Zhao Changhe, her eyes rippling with a subtle gleam, yet she offered no rebuttal.

"Then..." several people in the crowd began, but just as quickly, they all closed their mouths in unison.

They all wanted to ask "Then what about Her Majesty?" or "What about Chief Tang?", but no one dared speak it aloud, fearing their questions might clash and leave everyone in mutual embarrassment.

The scene grew inexplicably silent over such a matter; Zhao Changhe, well aware of the reason, felt his old face burn with shame, lowering his head as he pulled Yue Hongling along to depart in haste.

Yue Hongling, however, remained smiling faintly without the slightest hint of displeasure, and only when they had left the crowd far behind did she softy sigh with a smile: "The spirit of the capital is far better than many places we have seen before. The people are confident, unaffrighted by power and nobility."

Zhao Changhe nodded: "Chichi is straining every nerve to accomplish what her father could not, and Wanzhuang has always possessed such a heart; with monarch and minister sharing the same goal, it is only natural to see these results."

Yue Hongling gave him a look.

Zhao Changhe blanked for a moment: "What?"

Yue Hongling smiled and said: "Do you not think it has anything to do with yourself?"

Zhao Changhe scratched his head: "I only fight battles; I have done absolutely nothing regarding these matters..."

The spring waters of the Tang family grass were deep, the sun outside the window slow and lingering; did holding them in turn to refill their cups count?

Yue Hongling spoke in a low voice: "Because you do not oppress others with power, the high practice and the low imitate; the officials of the court act likewise, which is what leads to such a climate."

"Mm... I think it might just be that too many of the nobility have been slaughtered, so those with a bit of minor power now do things with their tails between their legs, leading to this outcome."

"Perhaps." Yue Hongling did not argue, pointing toward the distance: "Why are there still constables going in and out over there? Today is the first day of the New Year, do the government offices not rest?"

Zhao Changhe lifted his head to glance over, saying helplessly: "I wonder if she gives people overtime pay; she risks her own life and always drags others to strive along with her..."

Yue Hongling understood: "The Demon Suppressing Division..."

Zhao Changhe hesitated for a moment: "Shall we go take a look?"

Yue Hongling smiled faintly: "Very well, truth be told, the streets I wished to wander have already been wandered."

When the two entered the inner hall of the Demon Suppressing Division, Tang Wanzhuang had in fact already concluded her morning duties and was currently reading a book within the hall.

Baoqin, cradling a zither, was hurrying inside from outside the hall, appearing as though Tang Wanzhuang wished to play and had sent her to fetch it. Head-on at the doorway she bumped into Zhao and Yue; Baoqin braked her steps, her gaze sweeping up and down across Yue Hongling's form for a long while before she spoke: "For the grand New Year, you dress quite festively, huh."

Yue Hongling: "..."

How had this maidservant lived until now without being choked to death by the Vermilion Bird?

"Baoqin, do not be impolite." From within the room came Tang Wanzhuang's indolent voice: "Bring the zither to me."

Baoqin gave her small head a toss, humming as she entered the doorway, only for her foot to catch on the threshold; with an "Aiya," she nearly fell dog-like into the mud, even the zither flying away.

Zhao Changhe reached out and hoisted her up by the collar, while on the other side Tang Wanzhuang's fair hand lightly beckoned, laying the zither upon the table; her other hand still held the book, her head not even lifted.

Zhao Changhe carried Baoqin into the room, and only then did Tang Wanzhuang look up, her smile like a blossoming flower: "Since you are already here, why bring any gifts. Just set her down there."

Baoqin: "?"

Zhao Changhe perched Baoqin upon a side chair and turned with a smile: "I thought you were busy... by the looks of it, you are actually reading a leisure book rather than official documents; what book are you reading?"

"The Romance of the Western Chamber, Baoqin went out of her way to find it for me to read."

Zhao Changhe: "..."

Tang Wanzhuang finally set down the book, smiling as she said: "This morning I was not busy with any proper work; you see people entering and leaving, but they are actually representing the court to deliver gifts and condolences to the various military camps, wishing the soldiers a happy New Year, and have just returned to report. Such matters must of course be done today, and I cannot allow others to do it while I hide at home to sleep... In fact, even earlier in the dawn, the court held a sacrificial rite, which I also had to attend. In places unknown to the public, the 'hounds of the court' are often quite exhausted; it is not my own labor."

As she spoke, she cast a conscious or unconscious glance toward Yue Hongling, as if intentionally saying something to the martial artist who frequently opposed the "hounds."

Zhao Changhe suddenly recalled what Tang Buqi had told him a very long time ago—what was a hero of the rivers and lakes was actually a bandit in the eyes of the court.

He had thought Hongling and Wanzhuang would eye each other most favorably, but it seemed that was not entirely the case; how strange, the representatives of the orthodox and demonic paths of the martial world favored each other quite well, yet they would clash here with Wanzhuang?

Consequently, Tang Wanzhuang's next sentence shattered this suspicion: "Someone held a girl's hand on the main street, publicly called the Princess of Zhao by the people; are you very happy?"

So the jealousy lay here! Zhao Changhe knew not whether to laugh or cry: "You can go and announce it too."

"Hmph." Tang Wanzhuang finally stood from her chair, formally clasping her hands toward Yue Hongling: "Tang Wanzhuang of the Demon Suppressing Division greets Heroine Yue."

Yue Hongling also clasped her hands in return with a standard martial greeting, yet used only a few words to dispel Tang Wanzhuang's slight enmity: "Elder sister has laboured hard."

Tang Wanzhuang instantly bloomed like spring flowers: "Baoqin, serve tea to our honored guest."

Baoqin squatted on the chair watching for a long time, then hopped down reluctantly to boil water and pour tea, her mouth full of indistinguishable grumbles. If one caught them closely, one could vaguely hear: "And she is supposed to be the just and selfless suppressor of the martial world; bought out by a mere two words... Had the martial world known you were like this earlier, the Great Xia could have collapsed ten years ago."

Tang Wanzhuang directly acted as though she heard nothing, saying with a beaming smile to Yue Hongling: "Hongling, stay at my house tonight; you and I have communed in spirit for long, and I wish to talk through the night with you, knee to knee."

Yue Hongling said: "It is exactly what I desire... uh, wait a moment."

The two women exchanged a look, speaking in unison: "Go to the palace tonight, do not come to disturb us."

I did not think of raiding you tonight. Zhao Changhe truly knew not whether to laugh or cry: "Wanzhuang, did we not return to discuss military affairs? What is this for."

Tang Wanzhuang looked at him with great wonder: "Are you more loyal to the state and consumed by official duties than I am?"

"I just feel the situation is tense."

"Do you know, Huangfu suppresses Jinzhong, and the grain transported to the capital remains midway even now. Buqi's side transferred some grain purchased overseas to the north, which is currently still upon the canal. Amidst the wind, ice, and snow, the transport of provisions is exceedingly difficult; you fly hither and thither appearing as though you have accomplished much, but for ordinary people, a vast amount of time is still spent hesitating on the road... The pace of mortals is not as fast as you imagine." Tang Wanzhuang shook her head and smiled: "Even if you wish to be tense, affairs must keep up with your pace."

Zhao Changhe muttered: "So slow..."

"Indeed, it is transporting grain; do you take it for your storage ring, where a solitary soul can carry it at will?"

Zhao Changhe casually remarked: "Then if there were a group of people who could use storage rings, and each carried a bunch of rings stuffed with money and grain for transport, would it be a bit faster?"

Tang Wanzhuang froze for a moment, then abruptly stood up, nearly overturning the teacup upon the table.

There was no need for a group of people who could use storage rings; there only needed to be that many storage rings... As long as a small number of people carried several large bags of storage rings over, once they reached the destination, if only there could be one person specifically responsible for opening them...

A casual word from Zhao Changhe would change the war!