Chapter Seventy-Four: Not a Single One Will Be Spared

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“Your subject pays respects to Your Majesty, long live the Emperor, long live, ten thousand years of life!” Chen Ying mimicked the courtiers’ obeisance to the emperor as seen in dramas, bowing deeply to Li Yuan.

Truth be told, Li Yuan had never experienced such a grand gesture before. Unless it was during the grand imperial assembly, ministers were not required to kneel before the emperor. Even then, the ritual greeting from the civil and military officials was merely a light “Your Majesty, may you be at peace.”

Yet, Chen Ying’s youthful appearance was truly deceptive. Although he was only sixteen, his pale skin and frail, slender frame made him look even younger. Hearing Chen Ying’s novel way of paying respects, Li Yuan couldn’t help but chuckle. “Child, don’t speak such nonsense. I am the Son of Heaven, not one who lives ten thousand years.”

At that moment, Chen Ying realized the advantages of being young. If he said something wrong or made a mistake, as long as it wasn’t a matter of principle, there would always be an excuse for forgiveness. No one would take offense at a child’s words.

Li Yuan, too, made no effort to impose imperial majesty in front of Chen Ying; instead, he ordered Chen Qi to bring a brocade cushion and asked Chen Ying to sit and speak.

Li Yuan said, “Chen Ying, you are still young. How did you come up with the idea to make this down quilt?”

Chen Ying replied, “Your Majesty, as you can see, I’m but skin and bones, born into poverty. In winters past, I couldn’t afford a sheepskin mat and would nearly freeze. I’d huddle with our family’s only duck to keep warm, and slowly found that duck feathers are excellent for insulation. If I stuffed them into straw sandals, my feet wouldn’t get frostbitten. So I thought, if duck feathers could be stuffed into sandals, why not into a quilt, just like willow catkins? Over time, I experimented and crafted this down quilt. No matter how cold the winter, one would not freeze.”

Li Yuan’s eyes were sharp as lightning, fixing on Chen Ying and making him uneasy.

Li Yuan spoke, “You fought bravely, defending Jingyang with your life, and slew Zong Luohou of Western Qin—this is your first great merit. You led the two garrison offices across a thousand miles, quelling the uprising in Pangqi, sweeping away villainous forces and safeguarding the people—this is your second. You offered the down quilt, meritorious for the present and beneficial for generations to come—your third. I govern with civility and quell chaos with might, rewarding virtue and talent. Speak your wish, and I shall grant it!”

Hearing this, Chen Ying cursed inwardly. Li Yuan was too cunning. If he truly intended to reward him, he could have simply bestowed a founding duke or even a prince’s title—he would have taken it all the same. If Li Yuan wanted to reward him, he should have done so directly, not ask him to name his own reward. How was he supposed to answer that?

Chen Ying’s mind raced as he weighed his options. Though he had no experience in officialdom, he knew that no boss liked an employee who bargained for rewards. If you did your job well, that was your duty; if you failed, it was your fault.

“As a soldier of Great Tang, it is my duty to defend the nation and slay the enemy. I dare not claim credit for what is expected of me.”

In the end, Chen Ying decided to retreat in order to advance. He would ask for nothing and see what would happen. In any case, Li Yuan wouldn’t have long to enjoy his throne—Li Er would soon take care of him.

Li Yuan suddenly looked over at Li Xiuning, letting out a long sigh. “San Niang, you see it yourself—alas, falling petals are willing, but the running water is heartless.”

Li Xiuning’s face turned red as if blood might drip from it. She glanced at Chen Ying, who was dumbstruck, then turned and left in a huff.

Chen Ying had no inkling that Li Yuan and Li Xiuning had just come to a mutual understanding. Li Xiuning was not to give any hint or cue to Chen Ying; if Chen Ying requested her hand, Li Yuan would have agreed and annulled her marriage to Chai.

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In truth, Li Yuan was a sly old fox, astute in his judgments. Li Xiuning was a princess of the realm, and moreover, already married. Unless Chen Ying was reckless beyond measure, he would never dare make such a request.

Watching Li Xiuning storm off, Li Yuan sighed once more.

At this moment, Chen Ying was still confused, unable to make sense of the situation.

Suddenly, Li Yuan’s deep and gravelly voice broke the silence: “Chu Suiliang.”

“Your subject is here!”

Turning his head, Chen Ying suddenly noticed there was someone seated behind the screen.

“Draft the edict,” Li Yuan ordered. “Chen Ying, of good family, fought valiantly at Jingyang, defending the lone city and slaying Zong Luohou—first great merit. He pacified the rebellion in Pangqi, Shizhou—second great merit. He presented the down quilt—third great merit. For these three achievements, he is granted the title of founding count.”

“Your subject obeys!”

“Your subject thanks Your Majesty for your immense grace!”

Even upon returning to his residence, Chen Ying still felt as if he were dreaming. He had, in one stroke, become a count. Though he did not yet know his formal title, he was now among the ranks of the Tang dynasty’s nobility.

A sixteen-year-old founding count—his prospects seemed limitless.

No one was happier than Lan’er. She seemed to forget the pain of her past; though her fingers were yet to heal, she was still fiercely directing the household servants and newly recruited workers.

Yet Chen Ying saw a trace of pain, barely discernible, in Lan’er’s eyes.

Chen Ying suddenly grew silent. Li Xiaoguang was not only a shadow over Lan’er’s heart, but also a thorn in his own. It didn’t matter that he was now a count—if he were to become a marquis or a duke, the bitterness would remain.

Liang Zan, not knowing exactly what troubled Chen Ying, nevertheless sensed his sudden gloom.

“My lord, what’s wrong?”

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“I want to kill someone!”

“My lord, you must be careful!” Liang Zan exclaimed anxiously. “Your future is so promising now; don’t throw it away over something trivial!”

In these times, to rise to nobility was to enter the ranks of the elite. At least in Liang Zan’s eyes, following Chen Ying promised a bright future—one day he might return home in glory.

If Chen Ying lost his head and committed an unforgivable crime, there would be no one left even to mourn.

“No, I have thought it through!” Chen Ying replied. “Do you remember when my horse was spooked in the western county?”

“How could I forget?” Liang Zan suddenly understood. “You mean to…”

“If we do this without leaving a trace, no one will ever suspect us!” Chen Ying said. “In the coming days, you must find out everything about Li Xiaoguang’s daily habits. I will devise the plan!”

Of course, Chen Ying wouldn’t be so foolish as to act himself. He still held a trump card: Luo Song, the Piercer.

Because of Luo Song’s defection and betrayal of the Star-Plucking Sect’s secrets—a sect specializing in assassination—he would never be let off. As long as Luo Song dared show his face, the Star-Plucking Sect would pursue him relentlessly.

Chen Ying had disguised Luo Song and placed him among the Second Garrison of the Right Guard, under the name Luo Cheng. Perhaps for amusement—he knew Luo Cheng was a fictional character from “Sui and Tang Romance,” nonexistent in this world.

With Luo Song’s skills, killing Li Xiaoguang would be easy; provoking Li Xiaoguang’s horse into an “accident” would arouse even less suspicion. When the time was right, Li Xiaoguang could die without a sound.

In fact, not only Li Xiaoguang, but Su Hu and Gao Wanqing—Chen Ying would not let any of them go.