Chapter Seventy-Three: A Conversation with Tianlang

For a brief, suffocating moment, countless thoughts whirled through her mind—she liked spring blossoms, and she liked her too.

“Ghost…” She opened her mouth, blurting out unexpectedly, “From now on, don’t make a mess in the inner palace.”

Bi cocked her head, puzzled.

“If you’re going to play the spy, at least act the part.” She frowned, her eyes cold. “Chasing around the streets with a whole crowd at your heels—are you trying to call attention to yourself?”

Little Bi stifled a giggle behind her hand. “I’m not a spy, I’m…”

“Never mind.” She waved her hand dismissively, tilting her face toward the sky. The clouds were tinged crimson—it must be nearly noon.

“Are you leaving?” Little Bi glanced up at the sky, then back at her.

Rising, she brushed the dust from her skirt. “Well, then, until we meet again.”

“Oh.”

“Remember to take care of that matter quickly!” She raised a fist, lightly thumping his chest. “We’re all counting on you.”

“Don’t worry,” Bi replied, her gaze flickering.

She took a few solemn steps, then doubled back, her face split in a wide grin. “By the way, could you tell me how to get to the General’s residence?”

Little Bi shot her a strange look, then suddenly burst out laughing.

She returned to the manor, feeling disgruntled. Even a little brat like Bi was mocking her now—calling her brainless, a hopeless case with directions, chattering incessantly the whole way, leaving her both angry and embarrassed.

So what if she had no sense of direction? It wasn’t a big deal. She had always been like this in her own world. Though others had teased her, no one had ever been as sharp-tongued as that brat.

Just wait until I see him next—I'll find a way to get even! She clenched her fists, grinding her teeth.

“Kaimei.” The even, unemotional voice of a woman sounded. She paused, fists still clenched, and turned foolishly around.

Just from the voice, she knew there could be no mistake—it was Dayin.

Standing on the steps, dressed in plain clothes, with beautiful eyes wide open, was indeed the General herself.

Bathed in the glow of crimson clouds, her skin seemed to glow, her features were exquisite. Truly a beauty, Kaimei thought to herself, though she dared not let any disrespect show on her face. She answered and shuffled over.

“Where did you go this afternoon? Only now do you return.” Dayin shot her a glance, like a mother admonishing a wayward daughter. “What if you’d run into trouble?”

I’m already grown, she sighed inwardly, wishing she could say, please, don’t show me such affection. But what came out was, “I just went for a walk.”

Dayin didn’t press further. “A reward from the palace has arrived—it’s in your room.” She waved to a maid. “Take the Commander to her quarters.”

The maid answered and led the way, and Kaimei had no choice but to follow.

She had been to Dayin’s residence before, but was in no mood to take in the sights this time, trailing after the maid in a daze. They arrived at a tastefully appointed chamber. The maid opened the door, bowed, and withdrew.

Kaimei strolled in lazily, and her eyes were immediately drawn to the round table opposite: a dazzling heap of gold ingots, gleaming so brightly it was almost blinding. Heavens, was this a dream?

Her heart seemed to stop. Her eyes were fixed on that mound of gold—she rushed at it like a starving wolf, pressing herself into the glorious golden light. She laughed and cried, overwhelmed. What good fortune had she earned in a past life to deserve this? Gold! All mine, all mine!

From the edge of the glow, a timid voice sounded.

Startled, she hastily reined in her greed and, regaining her composure, saw a small child peering over the table, eyes wide with wonder and suspicion. Wasn’t that little Spoon?

“What are you doing here?” she asked, a bit embarrassed, though it was only a child who had witnessed her lapse.

“I came to see Mother’s reward…” Spoon’s voice dwindled, eyes darting.

“Go ahead and look, but let me hug these gold ingots first,” she said distractedly.

“Mother…”

“What?” Face pressed against the gold, she didn’t even look up.

“The uncle who eats with us is at the door…”

Before he finished, Kaimei spun around so quickly that several gold ingots tumbled to the floor with a crisp sound. She had no time to mourn the fallen gold—her attention was on the man at the door. Curse that Spoon for not speaking up sooner; that man must have seen her at her most greedy.

Forcing a stiff smile, she offered an awkward greeting: “Ah, Young Master Tianlang, I hope you’ve been well?” She hardly knew what she was saying.

Tianlang, dressed as a scholar, first appeared surprised and awkward, then broke into a smile. Seeing Kaimei sprawled across a tableful of gold was entertaining enough; her forced, pained smile made it even harder for him to keep a straight face.

He nudged the child forward. “Xiaowan insisted on seeing her brother, and I wanted to pay my respects to Commander Kaimei, so I brought her along.”

“Oh, a visit—please, come in.” Regaining some composure, she ushered them in, hurriedly gathering up the fallen gold ingots and buffing out the scratches with her sleeve, heart aching all the while.

Catching her miserly antics, Tianlang couldn't help but chuckle again.

Xiaowan, her eyes red and lips pursed, broke free from Tianlang’s hand and ran to her brother’s side, clinging to him at the table.

“Young Master Tianlang…”

“Just call me Tianlang, no need for formality.”

“Alright, Tianlang… um…”

“How have you been?” she fumbled for words.

“Thanks to the General’s kindness, I’m managing,” he replied.

“Er, you must find it uncomfortable living in the basement!” she blurted, then realized how rude that sounded, ruffling her hair in embarrassment. “There’s no tea here—I’ll have a maid bring some.”

“No need to stand on ceremony, Commander Kaimei,” Tianlang replied politely. “I just dropped by.”

The room grew quiet. She fidgeted with the gold ingots, unsure what to do. Tianlang sat while she stood, making it seem as if he were the host here.

Looking at the gold and silver before him, Tianlang smiled. “The Emperor’s reward is quite generous.”

“Yes, yes!” Seizing on the topic, she rushed to agree. “The Emperor must be fabulously wealthy, handing out thousands of taels of gold like it’s nothing. Even a small-time commander gets such lavish gifts—aren’t they worried about bankrupting the treasury? Clearly not the thrifty type.”

Tianlang looked at her with curiosity. “Where on earth did you get such an idea? The Emperor of Tianjue is wise—under his rule the realm is at peace, the people are prosperous. In such a golden age, the treasury is full; why worry about bankruptcy?”

Kaimei laughed it off. “Oh, just babbling—don’t take me seriously, heh.”

Tianlang curled his mouth into a smile, refusing to quibble.

“Are you short of money?” Kaimei’s eyes shone with the unmistakable gleam of a newly minted tycoon—she had money now.

Tianlang fought back a smile, but replied blandly, “Thank you for your concern, Commander, but I’m not short of funds at the moment.”

Kaimei looked him up and down with regret. Lodging in the General’s residence, eating and drinking at Dayin’s expense, and yet this pauper still claimed not to need money. She’d heard scholars were all pedantic and impractical, and it seemed to be true. Pity she’d just felt a surge of charity, wanting to toss him an ingot to tide him over. Oh well, she’d save some money after all.

“So tell me, what does Dayin want with you? Did she bring you here to use you against the Emperor?” She glanced toward the door and lowered her voice. “Is she planning to use you to overthrow him?”

Tianlang smiled slightly. “Commander, there are two flaws in your statement. First, General Dayin didn’t abduct me—I came of my own free will. Second, she has no intention of using me for any plot, so both your assumptions are wrong.”

“Typical scholar,” she sniffed. “Always twisting words.”

Tianlang replied shamelessly, “Words are precisely a scholar’s craft.”

“She’s acknowledged Xiaowan—is she planning to have her brought into the palace, to have… that person recognize her as his daughter?” she speculated aloud.

“What?” Tianlang’s gaze flickered. “I don’t know what you mean, Commander.”

Suddenly realizing she was being indiscreet in front of Tianlang, she fumbled to cover up. “I mean, it seems General Dayin wants Xiaowan to enter the palace to study or something.”

“Xiaowan?” Tianlang looked at the young girl, frowning. “Study what?”

“Oh, let’s not talk about such dull topics—they don’t concern us!” she said grandly, waving her hand.

“What would Commander Kaimei like to discuss?” Tianlang followed her lead.

“Um, let me ask you something—and answer honestly.” Though she knew no one was at the door, she glanced over habitually, lowering her voice. “Are you really the previous Emperor’s son?”

“I have nothing to hide from you, Commander,” Tianlang replied calmly. “It’s absolutely true.”

“Was it like this—the Emperor went out incognito, fell for your mother among the common folk?” She leaned in eagerly, hands rubbing together.

Tianlang glanced at her, a wry smile at the corner of his lips, and gave a slight nod.

“Was your mother a peerless beauty, breathtakingly gorgeous?” she pressed, though inwardly she lamented how such fine parents could have produced such an unremarkable offspring.

“My mother was an ordinary woman from a small town,” Tianlang calmly offered a different version of the emperor-meets-beauty tale. “So ordinary, in fact, that you wouldn’t remember her after a first glance.”

Kaimei stopped, astonished. A handsome emperor and an ordinary woman—didn’t fit any of the romantic tropes.

“Perhaps, surrounded by beauties in the harem, the Emperor grew tired of rich delicacies—so when he tasted a simple dish, it had a new flavor. Unfortunately, my mother was that simple dish,” Tianlang said, his tone detached, as if speaking of someone else.

Kaimei nodded as if she understood, though she couldn’t fathom the Emperor’s tastes or Tianlang’s composure on the matter. According to every melodramatic tale she’d ever seen, a commoner favored by the Emperor would incur the harem’s jealousy—the Empress would try to intervene, the powerful families would interfere, and ultimately the common woman would be secretly executed.

But if she had been killed, how did Tianlang come to be? By the usual script, the heroine’s mother would bear her child through hardship, die in time, and the protagonist would endure, rise, and eventually fulfill their destiny.

Yet this man seemed to genuinely admire the current Emperor. After all he’d endured, would he really rise up in the end? (To be continued.)