Xu Fengnian returned alone to Qingliang Mountain, while Jiang Ni went to Wudang Mountain, saying she missed the vegetable garden there. With the last of the spring rain still lingering, she felt it was now or never to plant something. Perhaps assuming Xu Fengnian would head straight to Jubei City outside Liangzhou Pass, Xu Weixiong specifically had the Fu Shui Fang deliver a “family letter” to him. The message was simple and clear: no matter how urgent the military affairs outside the pass might be, Xu Fengnian must first return to Qingliang Mountain—no room for negotiation. Xu Fengnian found this both amusing and exasperating, fully aware of his second sister’s well-intentioned concern. She feared that because of his grand gesture of bringing Jiang Ni back, he might feel guilty and avoid meeting Lu Chengyan in the Wutong Courtyard, the officially recognized principal consort of Northern Liang. In truth, Xu Fengnian had no intention of “avoiding debts.” Some words left unspoken become knots in the heart, while speaking them leaves scars—neither is necessarily better or worse. But when Xu Fengnian left Northern Liang, he had already decided how to face Lu Chengyan. It wasn’t about assuring her that she would remain the principal consort of Northern Liang, but three simple words.
When Xu Fengnian walked out of the Wutong Courtyard with her and reached the pavilion at the center of Tingchao Lake, she smiled faintly upon hearing those three words and gently tossed a handful of fish food into the lake. Then the young prince who feared neither Wang Xianzhi, the Liyang emperor, nor the armies of Northern Mang—the Xu Fengnian who dared to slay even immortals—sat awkwardly beside her. Lu Chengyan remained silent, and he didn’t know what to say either. Two young tiger-kui cubs, oblivious to the tension, kept rubbing against him. Xu Fengnian glared at them, and the poor “little ones” immediately fled the pavilion in fright, though they lingered reluctantly on the steps, basking lazily in the sun, waiting for their master to change his mind.
Fortunately, the estate steward Song Yu came to the rescue, informing the Northern Liang King that Deputy Chief Administrator Song Dongming had urgent matters to discuss. Xu Fengnian sighed in relief and took his leave. Lu Chengyan stood to see him off, softly suggesting that he write another spring couplet later and send it to Wudang Mountain. “Don’t say you’re sorry anymore—really, there’s no need.” Xu Fengnian hesitated but then smiled, realizing this was what family felt like. He insisted on escorting her back to the Wutong Courtyard first, casually asking about her father, Lu Dongjiang, along the way. Lu Chengyan seemed to have let go, speaking of the newly appointed Liangzhou Governor—with whom she had severed ties—without deliberate distance or undue closeness. Xu Fengnian didn’t know how to console her, fearing he might overstep. As the saying goes, even an upright official finds it hard to settle family disputes, for the balance between reason and sentiment is too delicate. Logically, the Xu family had shown the Lu family every courtesy, yet the Lu clan still felt their in-laws hadn’t done enough, never attributing their struggles in Northern Liang to their own shortcomings but instead blaming insufficient support from Qingliang Mountain and Lu Chengyan’s failure to whisper in Xu Fengnian’s ear.
After escorting Lu Chengyan back to the Wutong Courtyard, Xu Fengnian watched her slender, fragile figure and hesitated before finally making up his mind. He then followed Song Yu to the dense cluster of government offices halfway up the mountain where Song Dongming resided. Contrary to his usual casual demeanor, Song Dongming unexpectedly stood at the entrance to greet him personally. Once seated in the hall, Song Dongming cut straight to the point without waiting for tea: after Lu Dongjiang’s promotion to Liangzhou Governor, he had immediately appointed over a dozen Lu family members to key positions in the governor’s office, including several fourth-rank appointments that should have required the Chief Administrator’s approval. Lu Dongjiang’s actions suggested he intended to act first and seek forgiveness later. Song Dongming admitted that while he hadn’t openly opposed Lu Dongjiang’s appointment, he hadn’t endorsed it either—a subtle hint most officials would have taken.
Xu Fengnian remained silent. Ultimately, the root of the problem wasn’t the newly reshuffled Liangzhou bureaucracy or even Lu Chengyan and Lu Dongjiang—it lay with him. Over the past two years, his lukewarm attitude toward the Lu family’s presence in Northern Liang had left officials uncertain of his stance, leading them to tread carefully. The Lu family’s influence had grown, especially after their members secured key roles in Jubei City, and Lu Dongjiang’s unprecedented promotion only emboldened them further.
Song Dongming’s expression was calm, but frustration simmered beneath the surface. He had initially hoped to befriend Lu Dongjiang, only to find the renowned Qingzhou scholar overreaching to the point of disrupting Liangzhou’s stability. He knew Bai Yu opposed Lu Dongjiang’s appointment, making this move a silent slap to his face—one Bai Yu was surely watching with amusement from the sidelines. Xu Fengnian sighed and told Song Dongming to temporarily suspend the three disputed appointments, promising to personally visit the Liangzhou Governor’s office.
He then changed the subject, mentioning that Chief Administrator Li Gongde had submitted his resignation, retaining only his role as overseer of Jubei City’s construction. Li had recommended Song Dongming as Northern Liang’s second Chief Administrator. Song Dongming declined, arguing that Northern Liang still needed Li Gongde’s steady, locally respected leadership. With all four prefectural governors now outsiders, his own promotion would only exacerbate tensions among Northern Liang’s native scholars. Xu Fengnian didn’t press the matter, only asking Song Dongming to reconsider.
After leaving the government office, Xu Fengnian traveled lightly to the Liangzhou Governor’s residence. Seated in the carriage, he absentmindedly fingered the dragon-tail jade pendant at his waist. Song Dongming’s refusal of the Chief Administrator position was no surprise—Bai Yu, though junior, had quietly amassed influence in Qingliang Mountain. Officially, Bai Yu held a modest post, but he had gathered a circle of like-minded young talents. All he lacked was a formal title. If Song Dongming vacated the Deputy Chief Administrator seat, Bai Yu would undoubtedly take it. To Song Dongming, that seat was a strategic stronghold he couldn’t afford to lose to Bai Yu, lest the latter rise unchallenged. Song Dongming intended to hold the position for another two or three years, by which time the war with Northern Mang would be over, and Bai Yu—lacking sufficient rank—would lag too far behind to pose a threat. Xu Fengnian smiled inwardly. He had no intention of exposing Song Dongming’s scheming—it was a good sign, indicating his commitment to Northern Liang. As for whether Bai Yu would suffer, Xu Fengnian couldn’t worry about that. In fact, if Song Dongming could spur Bai Yu’s competitive spirit, it would only benefit Northern Liang.
When Xu Fengnian appeared at the governor’s residence, the clerks panicked, scrambling to open the main gates. He strode in and soon saw a crowd of officials surrounding the purple-robed Lu Dongjiang. Xu Fengnian chuckled. By Liyang law, a governor was a third-rank official entitled to peacock-patterned robes, but Liangzhou’s governor had always held a higher rank—second-rank—a distinction long documented in the imperial records. Yet no previous Liangzhou governor had dared to openly wear the second-rank golden pheasant robes. In Liyang, purple robes marked the highest echelons, a barrier few could cross. Even in the capital, only the six ministers of the Grand Secretariat wore purple as second-rank officials, while most vice-ministers remained third-rank. Only in recent years had certain vice-ministers been elevated to second-rank. Lu Dongjiang was Northern Liang’s first governor to don purple robes—a rarity even in Liyang. If Xu Fengnian recalled correctly, only Liangzhou, Qingzhou, Tangzhou in the south, and Yuezhou near the capital had second-rank governors. Thus, Lu Dongjiang was effectively Northern Liang’s third-highest civil official, behind only the Chief and Deputy Chief Administrators.
The impromptu meeting proceeded smoothly, with smiles and pleasant conversation. Both the old faces in the governor’s office and the dozen or so new Lu family members relaxed at the sight of the amiable young prince. If the capital was the emperor’s domain, Liangzhou was undeniably the Xu family’s doorstep. The Liangzhou governorship had long been vacant, with the deputy governor acting in its stead, while the military command fell to the Northern Liang Protector. Tian Peifang, the previous governor, had maintained the status quo, governing with minimal interference. Lu Dongjiang, however, had shaken things up by appointing numerous Lu family members and reinstating the long-dormant Shi Fu as Liangzhou’s military commander. The sudden shifts in power had unsettled the local officials, but Xu Fengnian’s visit reassured them. He praised both old and new officials, offering encouragement without favoritism, much to the relief of the veterans who had feared being sidelined by the Lu family’s rise.
For some reason, seeing the prince in person dispelled the older officials’ resentment toward the Lu family and even their quiet grievances against Qingliang Mountain. Perhaps it was the effortless authority with which the young prince carried himself, inspiring awe without effort.
In a private conversation with his father-in-law, Xu Fengnian’s words remained unknown to outsiders, but Lu Dongjiang emerged visibly elated. Shortly after, Lu Dongjiang retracted several irregular appointments, reassuring his clansmen with promises of future rewards and sternly warning them to uphold the family’s reputation. He even went so far as to strike three members from the family register overnight, finally asserting his authority as clan head.
Later, when Bai Yu stumbled drunkenly from a secluded residence, he was surprised to see a carriage with its curtain lifted. Recognizing the occupant, he strode over and climbed in, facing the young man with unruffled composure.
Xu Fengnian, who had come to fetch him from the Deputy Chief Administrator’s office, teased, “Master Bai, aren’t you afraid of stirring up trouble?”
Bai Yu, squinting out of habit due to poor eyesight, grinned. “Can’t stoke a hot stove, so why not a cold one?”
Xu Fengnian chuckled and changed the subject. “Li Gongde wants to resign as Chief Administrator, and Hu Kui of Youzhou wishes to join the border army. Any thoughts, Master Bai? Speak freely.”
Bai Yu didn’t mince words. “First, tell me your thoughts—and Song Dongming’s.”
Xu Fengnian replied bluntly, “I intended for Song to become Chief Administrator, with you as his deputy. But Song argues that with so many outsider governors, adding an outsider Chief Administrator would be too much.”
Bai Yu leaned lazily against the carriage wall. “Then make Lu Dongjiang Deputy Chief Administrator and appoint Song Yan—a local—as Youzhou Governor. As for Liangzhou Governor…” He pointed at himself. *Who else but me?*
Xu Fengnian stayed silent. Bai Yu smirked. “That arrangement would trouble Song Dongming. But if I aim lower and settle for Youzhou Governor, staying out of his sight, it’s you who’ll have a problem.”
His expression turned serious. “Truthfully, the best candidate for Liangzhou Governor isn’t me—it’s Xu Beizhi. But rest assured, I won’t take either the deputy or governorship.”
Xu Fengnian frowned. “Then what will you do?”
Bai Yu lifted the curtain, letting in a cool breeze. “The question isn’t what I want, but how bold you’re willing to be.”
Xu Fengnian grew more puzzled. “What do you mean?”
Bai Yu’s voice hardened. “Northern Liang is small, but with the vast western territories—including the new fourth prefecture, Liuzhou—and a fifth prefecture anchored by Jubei City beyond Liangzhou Pass, we could achieve something great.”
Xu Fengnian’s heart skipped a beat, but he kept his tone even. “Five prefectures under Northern Liang? The court would never allow it.”
Bai Yu smiled slyly. “At this point, do we need their permission? I’ve noticed sudden changes in border deployments—Youzhou, once sidelined in the next war, is now pivotal. Why? How many of the three key figures—Cai Nanhan and Wang Sui of Lianghuai, Gu Jianfang of Liaodong—have you met? How many deals have you struck? And what of your negotiations with Northern Mang?”
Xu Fengnian’s expression flickered at the barrage of questions.
Bai Yu didn’t expect answers. “If someone becomes emperor, where I serve matters little. It’s all the same to me.”
Xu Fengnian deflected, “Northern Liang’s scholars demand office with such boldness. It pleases me.”
Bai Yu’s eyes widened slightly as he studied the blurry face before him. “If you can spare scholars from groveling, that would please me too.”
Xu Fengnian sighed. “I fear the world may not share our joy.”
Bai Yu sneered. “Only one family’s joy is at stake.”
Xu Fengnian was taken aback.
Bai Yu continued, “You might wonder why I’ve changed my stance. It’s simple: I’ve realized that if someone becomes emperor, their reign might last only thirty or forty years—fifty or sixty at most. But it could bring two centuries of peace and prosperity. That’s worth something.”
Xu Fengnian regarded the elegant scholar in white.
Just as Xu Xiao had once looked upon Zhao Changling.
Two men, in their turn, seeking to crown a dragon.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage