#130: Stillness and Motion (1)

Half a month later, Qi Ying’s injuries had mostly healed, and he resumed attending court.

In truth, though he had stayed at home during this period, his mind remained preoccupied with the northern campaign. He had already drafted the memorial to be submitted to the Emperor and communicated with his family, securing his father’s tacit approval. Today, he would present the document.

The day before resuming his duties, he gave Shen Xiling some important instructions.

Though she now understood that their departure from Jiankang was still some time away, the young girl remained perpetually excited, as if ready to pack her bags at any moment. Though Qi Ying hated to dampen her joy, he knew it was necessary to caution her against drawing attention to their plans.

The timing wasn’t right yet, and any slip could complicate matters. Shen Xiling, naturally wanting to avoid trouble, grew somewhat nervous and asked him, “Ah… then how do I avoid giving anything away?”

Qi Ying thought for a moment and reminded her, “You can continue managing your business as usual. Act just as you always have.”

After the incident with Yang Dong, Shen Xiling had spent most of her time at Fenghe Garden, rarely concerning herself with her ventures. Partly, this was because Qi Ying’s presence consumed her attention, but she also felt uncertain about how to deal with the guilds or what to do if she encountered someone like Yang Dong again.

Qi Ying had never mentioned Yang Dong to her since then, and Shen Xiling remained unaware of his death.

The young girl furrowed her brows slightly, clearly troubled. Qi Ying immediately understood her concerns and gently stroked her hair, saying, “The guild won’t trouble you anymore. Do as you wish—I’ll support you fully.”

His words were unmistakably reassuring.

Shen Xiling caught on and felt reassured. After thanking him, she nestled back into his arms, playfully clinging to him in a way that made it clear she didn’t want him to leave Fenghe Garden anytime soon. The next morning, she even woke up alongside him, despite being so sleepy her eyes could barely stay open. Still, she clung to him weakly, murmuring into his chest, “Master… can’t you rest one more day? Your wounds haven’t fully healed…”

Her voice was soft and delicate, her embrace gentle, yet Qi Ying found himself unable to pry her off. He coaxed her back to sleep, promising he’d return by evening.

Though she nodded obediently, her actions betrayed her reluctance. Every time he tried to pull away, she tilted her head to kiss his throat, calling him alternately “Master” and “Second Brother.” Her teasing nearly undid him. Had the northern campaign not been so urgent, he might have skipped court altogether for her sake.

Such is the peril of indulging in tender affections—it truly lives up to its reputation.

In truth, Shen Xiling hadn’t seriously intended to keep him from leaving. She knew he had important matters to attend to and didn’t want to delay him; her clinginess was merely playful. She assumed he wouldn’t waver, unaware that he had genuinely considered staying home. If only she had persisted a little longer, called him “Second Brother” just one more time—he would have stayed.

Alas, what a pity.

________________________________________

That day, when Qi Ying arrived at court, he drew extra attention while waiting in the square outside the main hall.

Young Master Qi had always been a figure of prominence, but today, with at least half the officials’ grandchildren disqualified in the Spring Examination, he garnered even more scrutiny.

The gazes directed at him were complex—mingling the usual reverence with lingering resentment and curiosity. Some bold and blunt officials even sneered at him, mocking the fact that he had been beaten by his father and forced to take a half-month leave.

As everyone mulled over these thoughts, Left Chancellor Qi Zhang and Right Deputy Premier Qi Yun arrived together. Due to their high ranks, they stood at the forefront of the assembly and slowly made their way forward from the rear of the square.

When the Left Chancellor passed his second son, he paused briefly. Everyone saw Young Master Qi bow respectfully, while the Chancellor, his expression calm and neutral, patted his son’s shoulder before moving to take his place at the head of the assembly. Right Deputy Premier Qi Yun followed behind his father, also patting his younger brother’s shoulder. The two brothers exchanged nods.

This display was less for Young Master Qi’s benefit than for the other officials: the Qi family would always stand behind its own. While the Chancellor might discipline his son, no one else dared overstep their bounds.

The officials understood the message.

Even without the Qi family’s backing, few dared openly offend Young Master Qi, though resentment simmered beneath the surface. But with this gesture from the Left Chancellor and Right Deputy Premier, any lingering discontent was swiftly suppressed. The officials bowed their heads and awaited the start of the court session.

The Liang Palace was opulent, the grand hall majestic, as all the officials gathered to pay homage to the Emperor and deliberate on state affairs.

By the early summer of the 17th year of Qinghua, the Emperor’s declining health was undeniable. Though he had always defied expectations of his longevity, no one doubted his days were numbered.

Today, as usual, his face was powdered, making it hard for the officials to discern his mood from their vantage below the elevated dais. However, they noticed his posture was slouched—his back likely failing him, preventing him from sitting upright.

Still, he insisted on attending court, primarily to discuss the Privy Council’s proposed northern campaign.

Qi Ying had already informed Fourth Prince Xiao Ziteng of this matter, and the Emperor, in turn, had privately consulted the generals of the Han family beforehand. The Qi family elders were equally well-informed, so the influential figures among the civil and military officials already knew what to expect. Their calm demeanor reflected this foreknowledge.

Lower-ranking officials, however, lacked the ability to anticipate such developments. Upon hearing the news, they were stunned, and the court erupted in whispers. Many began chattering amongst themselves in disbelief.

Thirty years ago, after the fall of the Northern Liang Dynasty, the remnants fled south under relentless pursuit by Gao Wei forces. It had been a chaotic retreat, narrowly avoiding total collapse. In the intervening years, despite their best efforts—and figures like Young Master Qi stabilizing the region—they had managed only to maintain a precarious hold on the southern territories.

The older officials of Liang were deeply scarred by memories of those defeats. Mentioning war inevitably brought back nightmares of that harrowing escape decades ago. Now elderly, they sought only peace and tranquility in their twilight years. Even the younger officials, though less burdened by history, had grown accustomed to the comfortable life in Jiangzuo and recoiled at the thought of conflict. Hearing of an impending war—initiated by them—left them trembling, convinced it was unnecessary.

However, after the initial uproar, the officials noticed the composed expressions of the higher-ranking figures, who clearly already knew about the campaign. Realizing the discussion was merely a formality, they hastily reined in their objections and began speaking in lofty, righteous tones.

Despite their outward compliance, many officials harbored deep dissatisfaction. They inwardly criticized the Emperor for clinging to fleeting glory in his final days, risking his legacy for posthumous praise. Should the campaign fail, wouldn’t it tarnish his reputation?

Among the most reluctant proponents of war was Crown Prince Duan.

Recently buoyed by the Spring Examination results favoring his faction, the Crown Prince had been in high spirits. However, news of the northern campaign threw a wrench into his plans. If the war succeeded, the Han family, led by the military, would gain immense prestige—benefiting the Fourth Prince, whose maternal relatives were the Hans. This would overshadow the Crown Prince’s gains from the Spring Examination, leaving him at a disadvantage.

The Crown Prince clenched his fists, his mole beneath his eye appearing menacing.

Silently surveying the room, he noted the Emperor, his fourth brother, the Qi family, and the Han family—all exuding an air of prior knowledge. He realized they had coordinated behind his back, rendering any objections futile.

He glanced sidelong at Qi Ying, silent and impassive.

What a cunning man, this Second Young Master Qi, this Junior Privy Councilor.

Just when he had gained some advantage from the Spring Examination, he turned around and handed an even greater opportunity to his fourth brother. Truly, he played both sides while earning universal acclaim!

Amidst the court, the most conflicted individual was Left Chancellor Qi Zhang.

The Qi family had already reached the pinnacle of power. Having passed the age of understanding fate, Qi Zhang no longer harbored ambitions for further advancement. He sought only stability and minimal controversy. Logically, he should have opposed his second son’s northern campaign proposal. However, the recent Spring Examination debacle had stirred significant dissent against Jingchen. To quell these criticisms, a major achievement was necessary—otherwise, the Qi family would struggle to justify itself to the aristocracy and Fourth Prince alike.

This was a gamble: success would bring smooth sailing; failure, disaster.

Qi Zhang knew he was taking a risk, but he also trusted his second son more than anyone else. He believed that once Jingchen set his mind to something, he could accomplish anything. Moreover, Qi Zhang suspected that the northern campaign might align with his own long-held aspirations.

Both his eldest and second sons shared a certain stubbornness—pursuing ideals despite the odds. He had thought his second son more pragmatic, only to realize he was simply better at concealing his resolve. Once committed, Jingchen was even more resolute than his elder brother.

Qi Zhang felt a mix of helplessness and pride. His sons had not yet been dulled by the bureaucracy. They still possessed the ambition and capability to reshape the world.

Very well, then—a gamble it would be.

In the grand hall, fewer than a hundred people gathered, yet their thoughts were as varied as they were numerous. Amidst their musings, the Emperor’s coughing fit drew attention. Frail and dying, his aged eyes still gleamed with determination as he declared, “Since none of you object, let this matter be settled. Speed is of the essence in the northern campaign. The Privy Council and the Military Department must deliberate carefully and ensure victory.”

With that, the respective heads stepped forward to receive their orders. The hall fell silent, an ominous tension hanging in the air.