Tome of Troubled Times

Chapter 653: Returning to the Jianghu

In the annals of history, hereditary titles are a legacy of the earliest aristocratic systems where titles and authority are intertwined. In fact, it is this very concept that gives rise to aristocratic families.

Of course, during the course of dynasties, inherited titles are bound to be slowly reduced. Within a few generations, some of the titles even disappear entirely; maybe they are replaced by others, maybe not. And if one wants to obtain a title, they have to earn it through their own merit.

There are also monarchs and dynasties that experiment with such systems as honorary titles and hereditary nominal titles. As it turns out, these systems usually start off as harmless, due to the small number of recipients, but over time, they result in the court supporting a swarm of idle parasites, a state far from ideal.

But every solution has to be evaluated within the context of the problem.

Given the current circumstances, this was perhaps the most suitable and quickest way to stabilize the empire. In all fairness, if such titles ultimately led to a group of entitled nobles who only fed off the system, that could actually turn out to be beneficial to the court. As for the risk of such titles multiplying uncontrollably, the young generation was... well, still very young, and therefore capable of making adjustments step by step.

Tang Wanzhuang had mentioned Buqi, but in reality, she was referring to the Cui Clan. If even the Tang Clan could have a marquis, then what about the Cui Clan?

Even if the titles were nominal and lacked the grandeur of the past, at the very least, they secured a stable livelihood for future generations—an ironclad safety net ensuring they would not go hungry as long as the empire stood.

And the point of offering such a safety net was gauging whether the Cui Clan would be willing to let go and fight in the new era, competing with ordinary people and religious followers in the imperial exams and embracing a new land tax system.

Their sword had already been broken, and restoring it to its former state was impossible. With that being the case, would they be willing to take a step back and bow before the new rulers, or would they not?

If they were willing, then they needed to act quickly. Hesitation would only serve to reduce the merits that they could stand to claim.

Compared to Li Shentong’s ruthless strategy of slaughtering nobility mercilessly, this approach was far more lenient. The only exception to this, of course, was if they were determined to establish a new dynasty altogether—in which case drastic measures were to be expected.

Zhao Changhe pondered the proposal, running scenarios through his mind. He concluded that while this might not sway someone like Yang Jingxiu, it could work on the Old Cui, at least enough to start negotiations. If all else failed, he could always run off with Cui Yuanyuan.

With that in mind, he sighed and said, “I’ll give it a try.”

Tang Wanzhuang’s beautiful eyes remained fixed on him. In a soft voice, she said, “Dear, when you leave the capital, you must be cautious... Things are different now. You’ve always been famous one way or another, but you were never considered an actual central figure. No one would resort to extreme measures to deal with you. But now, even blind people can see you are the keystone holding this new dynasty together. Even the gods and demons. Their attention was once fixated on His Late Majesty, but now, they will now turn their gaze to you, especially since you hold the Heavenly Tome.”

Zhao Changhe laughed heartily. “It’s been far too long since I felt the kind of pressure I experienced when I first roamed the jianghu. Well, that’s more or less since I first roamed the jianghu. Anyway, I can’t help but feel restless now. What’s the big deal about the gods and demons? If I can kill one, I can kill another!”

Tang Wanzhuang looked at him as his fighting spirit overflowed. There was a hint of reproach in her gaze, like watching a reckless boy, but deep down, she could not help feeling a profound affection for him.

Although Zhao Changhe had changed in many ways, the untamed defiance buried deep in his bones had never wavered. It was this irrepressible spirit, this ability to draw strength from adversity, that had captivated Cui Yuanyang, as well as herself.

Now, Zhao Changhe seemed to hold the highest authority in the dynasty. Yet, in truth, this regime was as fragile as a newborn. Whether in terms of overall reach or elite martial strength, the pressures it faced were far greater than before. It was the truest form of adversity, with collapse looming at any moment.

Tang Wanzhuang had fiercely supported Xia Longyuan in the past, and this was one of the key reasons. While it was true that the Old Xia had sown chaos, his mere existence prevented complete anarchy. Now that he was gone, the world had plunged into utter turmoil. If the chaos had not yet reached its peak, it was only because Zhao Changhe was holding much of the world together, and this was something no one had foreseen. No one, except Tang Wanzhuang, had glimpsed faint traces of this possibility.

At this time, Zhao Changhe was the person in the most danger in the entire world. Yet unlike Xia Longyuan, he could not hide under the Imperial Ancestral Temple. There was simply far too much that he needed to do.

“You... when it’s necessary, disguise yourself. Don’t let your pride get in the way of your safety,” Tang Wanzhuang finally said. Rising gracefully, she walked around the tea table to Zhao Changhe’s side. She leaned gently into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I will work with your Qing’er to support Her Majesty. When you return, you’ll see a prosperous and stable homeland.”

Zhao Changhe embraced her, teasing, “Are you sure you and ‘my Qing’er’ won’t just end up fighting?”

Tang Wanzhuang’s eyes sparkled with a seductive glimmer. “She and I have been rivals for fifteen years. Looking back, it seems our battles in the first half of life were nothing more than a rehearsal for the second half. We’ll likely be at it for a lifetime...”

She leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear, and murmured softly, “Remember to come back safely. When you do... She and I... will compete on the bed, just for you.”

That line did more to motivate Zhao Changhe than any heartfelt plea for caution ever could. He swore to himself that even if the Heavenly Dao itself descended upon him, he would cut it down and crawl back to the capital if needed!

* * *

That very day, he departed from the capital.

As Xia Chichi had said, though the recent days seemed filled with debauchery, they were crucial for internal stability. But once things were somewhat stabilized, there was no room to indulge further in the comforts of the boudoir, no time to sample every possible permutation of companionship.

The current state of affairs was far too urgent; there was no opportunity to become a debauched monarch.

Tang Wanzhuang’s temptation was, in reality, a promise—a hope for a future where the world was truly at peace. When that day came, she would indulge in any folly by his side.

Lady Three had already left ahead of him, returning to Huangsha Market to hold a position she had once taken on with curiosity, only to abandon out of boredom.

Although Lady Three had not spent long as the chief of the market, her influence remained. It was clear that Huangsha Market was still a northern stronghold for the Four Idols Cult, managed by elite members of the cult who were well-acquainted with the region’s dynamics. They also maintained a mobile force ready for deployment at any moment. The return of the Four Idols Cult’s Black Tortoise would undoubtedly stir the winds and clouds on the frontier.

After all, in the eyes of others, she was still a fearsome and enigmatic figure.

Meanwhile, Zhao Changhe had reverted to his early disguise as a weathered, yellow-faced man, riding Snow-Treading Crow toward Qinghe.

While Snow-Treading Crow could now fly, Zhao Changhe did not dare to do that. It was simply far too conspicuous. His departure from the capital was still under wraps, and flying on his horse would be tantamount to holding a massive billboard saying “Zhao Changhe is here.”

For the sake of a future where he could see his Wanzhuang and Qing’er compete on the same bed one day, he had to exercise caution.

Qinghe was only about seven hundred li from the capital, with no significant mountain ranges to obstruct his journey, just flat plains. Zhao Changhe, accustomed to observing the landscape during his travels, noted a marked change this time.

The atmosphere in Hebei was tense, like never before.

Previously, on the way to the capital, the route from Qinghe to the capital was prosperous—an area right within the grasp of the emperor, after all. While there had been vagrants and beggars, the roads bustled with merchants, and well-maintained inns dotted the path. Now, many inns lay abandoned, and the once-busy route was eerily desolate.

Passing through cities and towns, Zhao Changhe noticed fearful looks on people’s faces. It was only when they saw he was a lone rider that they seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

* * *

“We thought it was the start of a war...” someone explained.

A nearby patron, sitting at the next table, added, “Brother, with that fine horse of yours galloping like mad, if you’re not rushing to fight in a war, then you must at least be out to pass orders, right?”

Zhao Changhe remained composed. “Why would Hebei and the capital go to war?”

“Isn’t it obvious? The late emperor severed the roots of the nobles, or so they say. Do you think that the Cui Clan of Qinghe would just sit and take it? Tensions have been high for a long time.”

“But the Cui Clan doesn’t represent all of the states of Yan and Zhao[1].”

“They pretty much do. The late emperor only liked playing with swords and didn’t do much of anything else. After all these years, nearly every major noble clan has taken complete control of their territories. They’re practically local overlords now. Saying that Cui controls two-thirds of Zhao isn’t much of an exaggeration. The rest belongs to the Lu Clan...”

Another patron chimed in, “Hey, do you think the Asura King being made King of Zhao[2] has anything to do with this?”

“Are you saying that the Cui Clan’s territory is being given to the Asura King?”

“That’s what it sounds like is happening, doesn’t it? But doesn’t the King of Zhao have a marriage arrangement with the young lady of the Cui Clan? Well, I guess given the current tensions, I doubt that’s happening...”

Zhao Changhe: “...”

The title of King Zhao had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, forced on Xia Chichi by Tang Wanzhuang in a public political gambit. There had been no time to consider the political implications of even a single word. It was a makeshift solution, nothing more. Yet, in the hands of those inclined to speculate, this offshoot narrative gained a certain credibility—especially within the Cui Clan itself.

This mission seemed to hold complications he had not anticipated. The Wang and Li Clans, among others, would not want the Cui Clan to reestablish any connection to Zhao Changhe through marriage. They would likely stop at nothing to sabotage the idea.

If that were the case...

“Your wine, sir!” The inn’s waiter approached cheerfully, setting down a tray of hot wine and meat. “Apologies for the wait, sir.”

Zhao Changhe looked at the steaming wine, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He murmured to himself, “It’s been so long since I encountered the classic assassination trope of being served poisoned food. I kind of missed these classic jianghu things. Who’d have thought the Snow-Listening Pavilion still hasn’t improved its tricks after all this time? How disappointing.”

1. The states of Yan and Zhao are still just Hebei. These terms were mainly used during the Warring States period. ☜

2. Note that I have also translated this term as King Zhao, because Zhao Changhe’s surname and the state of Zhao are the same character (赵). Zhao Changhe has indeed acquired the title of king, so people being confused as to whether he is King Zhao or King of Zhao is sort of understandable. ☜