Chapter Forty-Four: The Darkening of Little Wu!

“Your Highness, may I borrow some writing materials—brush, ink, paper, and inkstone?”

“No problem. Someone, bring a set of brush, ink, paper, and inkstone here at once.”

“Yes, sir!”

This round was supposed to be a contest of music—why on earth would writing materials be needed? Though puzzled, Prince Ruyang, Li Jin, still had them brought in.

Li Zhao steadied his mind and swiftly penned a poem, “Po Zhen Zi”:

By lantern’s light, I gaze upon the sword in drunken haze,
Dreams return to the sounding horns across the camp,
Eight hundred miles of scorched ground under my command,
Fifty strings echo the frontier’s wild song—
The battlefield in autumn, troops marshaled in formation.

Mounting my swift steed like the Lu, my bow cracks like thunder’s strike,
Resolving the emperor’s realm’s affairs,
Earning fame both in life and after death—
A man’s life dedicated to this cause!

(Changed the last line slightly, lest the earlier heroic spirit be lost… Poor Xin Qiji spent an hour on this.)

Having finished writing, Li Zhao drew out his nine-hole purple-gold flute and began to play gently at first, then growing rapid and intense, rising from low notes to high, filled with passionate grandeur. Before the assembled crowd, it was as if a magnificent and stirring scene unfolded: intoxicating wine, dim lantern light, sharp swords, imposing military camps, and the resounding blast of bugles.

There were galloping steeds, arrows released from bows, and the unyielding resolve to achieve greatness...

When the piece ended, a profound silence fell. Prince Ning and the others were deeply immersed, unable to return to their senses for a long time. Some breathed heavily and gasped for air, others shed tears silently down their cheeks.

It was gripping, soul-stirring—such is the power of music!

Next, it was Prince Ruyang Li Jin’s turn. He sat cross-legged, placing his hands on the strings, withdrawing them repeatedly—over ten times. Finally, he shook his head in resignation: “Young Master Zhao, you are truly a great talent. This round, I concede defeat.”

To be fair, Prince Ruyang was far superior to Li Zhao in musical skill and technique, but no matter how he racked his brain, he could not conceive of a piece that could rival this “Po Zhen Zi”.

The heroic imagery of clashing armor and stirring passion was beyond his ability to express on the instrument. He had no choice but to admit defeat.

None of the others voiced any objections, especially Prince Ning, Li Chengqi, who regarded Li Zhao with a markedly changed gaze.

He had thought this young man was an elegant, talented scholar, smart beyond measure—a perfect guest for his household. But the truth was, he was terribly mistaken. Li Zhao was no sheltered kitten pampered in a greenhouse, but a fierce beast that endured harsh winters and bleak trials, howling at the sky, indifferent to day and night… The battlefield of clashing swords and spattered blood was his true home!

Such a man was unsuitable to be a mere guest!

Such a talent could neither be kept nor controlled!

“Very well, very well. I have long considered myself a connoisseur of music, yet I have never heard such a soul-stirring melody. It is truly celestial music. This round, you have won. I shall keep my promise and no longer pursue the matter of your unauthorized entry into the palace. When you have time, come visit and discuss music. From now on, my residence shall be open to you freely.”

“Thank you immensely, Your Highness!”

“Please sit and have some tea.”

“Yes, sir!”

Li Zhao did not linger. After a few sips of tea, he rose promptly to take his leave.

Prince Ning smiled and nodded, instructing Prince Ruyang to escort the guest all the way to the palace gates. The two parted with a respectful bow. Li Zhao’s impression of Prince Ruyang was favorable—cultured and gentle, a friend worth keeping.

…

“Master, you finally came out! We were so worried!”

Just outside Prince Ning’s estate, a group burst from a nearby alley: Baimo, White Rat, Jiang Hao, and Xiao Wu were among them.

They had learned that Li Zhao went alone to Prince Ning’s palace to rescue someone and immediately rushed after him, hoping to intervene. But it was too late. They could not even get past the palace gates to check.

This distressed them greatly. Everyone was at their wit’s end, not knowing what to do. Baimo and White Rat even considered risking their lives to storm the palace and save their friend.

Fortunately, Xiao Wu emerged from the palace and explained the situation inside, allowing everyone to breathe a sigh of relief.

“Master Zhao, your rescue today is deeply engraved in my heart; I shall never forget it and will repay it in kind someday!”

“Please rise, Miss Wu. As a low-ranking military officer, it is my duty to save lives. You need not worry.”

Xiao Wu knelt and gave a deep bow to Li Zhao. His courage in risking his life to break into Prince Ning’s palace was rare in this world, and his kindness was greater than the heavens.

Li Zhao helped her up and offered words of comfort. Then they returned to the Zhou family estate to reassure the household and prepare a proper celebration. They said surviving a great calamity foretells future blessings; this ordeal was truly a brush with death.

“Wah—wahhh!”

Yet upon reaching the Zhou estate’s gate, they heard sobbing from within. What had happened?

Rushing inside, they found two bodies in the backyard—Master Zhou and his wife, Mrs. Song… Xiao Wu and several servants knelt beside them, weeping bitterly.

It turned out Master Zhou’s internal injuries were severe. Worried about Xiao Wu’s safety, his heart burned with anxiety, worsening his condition until, over an hour ago, he coughed up blood and passed away.

Mrs. Song, deeply grieved by her husband’s death, quietly hanged herself. When the servants found her, she was already lifeless.

“Uncle, Aunt… wahhh!” Xiao Wu collapsed, mourning with tears like a spring.

Witnessing this tragedy, others also wept. The deaths of the Zhou couple were undoubtedly caused by the Flower Flower Grand Duke. There was ample evidence, but what could be done?

File a complaint with Prince Ning’s court?

Even if Prince Ning was relatively just, would he kill his own brother-in-law to avenge two commoners?

Certainly not. At best, some money compensation and scapegoats would be offered.

Throughout history, it was said: Princes and commoners are equal before the law… Yet princely killings of commoners were frequent. Has anyone ever seen a prince pay with his life for it?

Displeased?

You may be, but this is reality—the harsh truth under feudal power.

…

Late at night, a mourning tent was set up in the Zhou backyard. The couple was already laid to rest in a fine, dark sandalwood coffin. The Wu sisters wore heavy mourning garb, keeping vigil for their uncle and aunt, their cries unceasing, like cuckoos weeping blood.

Everyone else had retired to rest. Only Li Zhao stayed with the sisters.

“Please restrain your grief, ladies. Do not harm your health. The departed are gone; the living must take care of themselves. Rest assured, I will look after you both. I promise to seek justice for you!” Li Zhao comforted the Wu sisters gently, emphasizing the word “look after,” conveying a hidden message.

Pity, care, loyalty… it was hard to say which, or perhaps all.

“Thank you, Young Master Zhao. Your great kindness will be repaid someday!” Xiao Wu bowed deeply with her sister. Though her eyes were swollen from crying, there was no wavering within—only a deadened resolve.

Xiao Wu was truly grateful for Li Zhao’s life-risking rescue from Prince Ning’s palace.

But she did not believe his promise of justice. How could a minor officer, a ninth-rank official, hope to contend with the mighty Prince Ning’s household?

Li Zhao said nothing. He burned incense for the Zhou couple, then left the mourning tent, his eyes glinting with a fierce determination.

He had no wish to shed blood unnecessarily, but some scoundrels could only be sent to the underworld. Though lacking power, he had the means to kill.

Flower Flower Grand Duke, just wait for me!

…

In the mourning hall, only the two sisters remained.

Xiao Wu gradually ceased crying, gazing at the coffin, recalling memories. A light kindled in her eyes—not the innocence of before, but a fierce flame of hatred.

“Sister, we have never harmed anyone, only wished for a peaceful life. So why must we always suffer?”

“In our homeland in Bashu, people bullied us. On the way to Chang’an, more bullied us. Even upon arriving here, the torment continues. Must we be bullied for our entire lives?”

“No! I, Wu Shiqing, swear by heaven: from now on, I will never be bullied again. Anyone who dares to wrong me once, I will torment for a lifetime, so they never rise again!”

…

“Sister, please don’t be like this. Yun’er is scared!”

Seeing her sister’s face so dark and fierce, Wu Moyun trembled with fear, as if the person beside her had changed into a vengeful spirit risen from hell.

Xiao Wu patted her sister in comfort, her mind turning to thoughts of revenge.

Flower Flower Grand Duke’s impunity and deadly acts rested on the power of Prince Ning’s household.

Likewise, to avenge their uncle and aunt, they must rely on even greater power. Who could surpass the might of Prince Ning’s residence?

Only the imperial authority. Imperial power reigns above all.

If she, like her great grandaunt Wu Zetian, could wield supreme imperial power, not only could she kill the Flower Flower Grand Duke, but even destroy Prince Ning’s entire household with a flick of her hand.

But she was just a young woman—how could she obtain imperial power?

The simplest way was to follow her great grandaunt’s example and marry into the royal family. That would give her the chance to grasp imperial power.

Recently, His Majesty Li Heng began selecting consorts. Although the Wu family had fallen on hard times, their noble status qualified her to participate in the Crown Prince’s household selection.

Marrying the Crown Prince and becoming his consort would lead to imperial consort, noble consort, and eventually empress—ascending step by step to the supreme position. Then she could exact her revenge.

With her decision made, Xiao Wu recalled something from when she was six. An ethereal old Taoist once came to their home and cast her birth chart.

He said her fate was noble and linked to the royal family, but at fifteen she would face her most crucial choice. If chosen rightly, she would enjoy a lifetime of happiness and might even become the mother of the nation. If wrongly, she would live with regret and meet a tragic end.

This year she turned fifteen. Two choices lay before her—Li Zhao’s promised care or marrying into the Crown Prince’s household.

Comparing both, the latter was undoubtedly the correct path. Only by marrying into the Crown Prince’s household could she aspire to rule the realm.

As for Li Zhao, a minor royal descendant, it would be a great achievement just to be granted a marquisate or principality. He would never occupy that throne.

…