Coroner's Diary

"Your Highness, this is a secret letter sent back by General Chu."

Bai Feng hurried in from outside, his expression urgent.

Yan Chi frowned upon hearing this, clearly surprised. "They should be in Liangzhou right now. Why would Chu Fei Sheng send a letter?"

Chu Fei Sheng, over forty years old, was one of the veteran generals who had served Prince Rui the longest. Lin Xugui had intended to frame Chu Fei Sheng for the corruption of the Northwest Frontier Army's military provisions to eliminate Prince Rui's old subordinates. However, Chu Fei Sheng had long since left the Northwest Frontier Army camp and disappeared. Since Chu Fei Sheng was currently safe, why would he send a letter?

Yan Chi opened the letter and quickly scanned through it. Soon, his eyes first showed shock and doubt, then sudden understanding, and finally transformed into the suppressed calm before a storm.

"So that's how it is—"

The gloom in Yan Chi's eyes was something Bai Feng hadn't seen in a long time. The last time such an expression had appeared on Yan Chi's face was years ago when the Rong people mobilized their entire clan to attack the Great Zhou. At that time, the Northwest Frontier was in grave danger, but fortunately, their lord had turned the tide.

Now Prince Rui was gone. Although the Northwest Frontier was in chaos, they had managed to save everyone they wanted to save.

Why would a single letter cause their lord to show such an expression?

Yan Chi clenched the letter tightly. He had been wondering what had catalyzed the situation's development, and now he finally knew. He crumpled the letter into dust. "We learned this news too late."

Bai Feng was puzzled. Yan Chi suppressed all emotion in his eyes and, after a long moment, let out a cold laugh. "The Rong people once sought peace with Father."

Bai Feng's eyes widened. Yan Chi continued, "They submitted a state letter to Father."

Bai Feng quickly grasped the implication of Yan Chi's words. "The prince kept this matter hidden, but it was still discovered?"

Yan Chi nodded, the lingering dull ache in his heart slowly spreading throughout his limbs.

His relationship with Prince Rui was more complex than that of most fathers and sons. Prince Rui was his father, his mentor, and his superior. Everything he had learned and known in his life, directly or indirectly, had been taught to him by Yan Lin. His dependence on Yan Lin was rarely familial; it was mostly admiration and respect, mixed with some rivalry born of past grievances.

While being controlled and trained by Yan Lin, he had secretly resolved in his heart—even developing a competitiveness that only men and the strong could understand—to surpass his father...

But then his father had suddenly died. When the news came, he initially found it unbelievable. How could that mountain of a man die!? How could the mighty eagle who commanded the Northwest Plateau die by accident!?

He couldn't even cry. Since childhood, aside from one or two times when he was five years old and being trained, he had never shed a single tear. No matter how many people fell in battle, no matter how severe his injuries during campaigns, he had never shed a single tear. Tears were weakness; a man who stood firm between heaven and earth had no need for tears.He only felt as if a part of his inner world had collapsed. Unbeknownst to him, his father held a far deeper place in his heart than he had ever imagined. Even though all these years, there had never been a moment of warmth between them as father and son, even though he harbored resentment toward his father over his mother’s early death—still, after more than a decade on the battlefield, witnessing firsthand how Prince Rui commanded troops and fought, he had seen in him the epitome of a man’s strength and valor.

He did not shed a single tear, yet it felt as though the meridians and bones tempered by Yan Lin had cracked throughout his body. At times, a dull, needle-like pain would prickle through him, dense and persistent. He deliberately suppressed these sensations, refusing to let even a ripple show on his face. Only in Qin Guan’s presence, when tender affection allowed his armor to slip, could a hint of it be glimpsed.

Throughout these days and nights, he remained rational and resolute, even as Master Qi grew flustered and furious. Yet he stood firm, unwavering. He wanted to uncover the truth behind the events, to make the most thorough arrangements, to earn Prince Rui’s approval even from beyond the grave. Even in death, he still longed for his father’s praise, though Yan Lin had offered him but a handful of words of appreciation in his entire life.

He had expended immense effort, yet it was only now that Yan Chi clearly understood the cause of it all.

It was all because of the Rong people’s state letter.

Yan Chi fell silent for a moment. "My father naturally did not trust the Rong people. But even if he didn’t, others did."

This was the difference between the distant frontier and the lofty halls of power.

In the camps of the Northwest Frontier Army, one saw the blades of the Rong people, heard the screams of the northwestern people slaughtered by them, and smelled the blood that lingered in the cold nights. There, victory came first. Only when an enemy’s sword swung down at you did you truly realize you were a citizen of Zhou—that the name "Great Zhou" became sacred and solemn in that very moment. Every young soldier was willing to offer their blood in sacrifice to the banner—a loyalty and courage that those ensconced in the capital’s dazzling Den of Gold Consumption could never comprehend. Thinking of this, Yan Chi felt as though a block of cold iron were lodged in his chest.

For Yan Lin, and for the thousands of soldiers guarding the northwest frontier.

Never before had he felt such chilling despair. The loyal had paid with their blood, even their lives, yet all they received in return were meager military stipends. When they fell in battle, wrapped in horsehide, their very names often went unrecorded. In the court, the casualties of soldiers were nothing more than insignificant numbers, not even worth a furrowed brow.

And when their loyalty was questioned, they could be abandoned at any moment, left to face enemies on all sides.

Yan Chi’s fingers unconsciously tapped the corner of the table, the cold, rhythmic sound echoing through the room. The chill of early winter seeped in through the window cracks, freezing the silence into a suffocating web. Bai Feng felt his own breath growing increasingly ragged.

At this time of year, the first heavy snow should be falling in the northwest.

Yan Chi suddenly glanced out the window and gave the order, "Have Chu Fei Sheng and Master Qi withdraw from Liangzhou and return to the Northwest Frontier."Bai Feng waited for Yan Chi to continue. After a moment, Yan Chi finally spoke, "After Lin Xugui takes over the Shuoxi Camp, he will inevitably rearrange the defenses. The garrisons in Liangzhou and Qianzhou are bound to be reinforced. I need to know every change in troop deployment across Shuoxi. Ge Yang will return to the capital in at most a month. Once Ge Yang leaves, Yuwen Xian and Lin Xugui won't amount to much."

Bai Feng hesitated, on the verge of speaking, "Your Highness intends to—"

Yan Chi remained silent, his eyes shifting between light and shadow as he gazed at the gloomy sky outside. "Winter has arrived. Traveling to Shuoxi may be hindered by heavy snow blocking the mountains. Find a way to have the Ministry of Revenue submit a memorial, preferably to deliver Shuoxi's military provisions for next summer as early as today."

A flicker of understanding flashed in Bai Feng's eyes, and he promptly assented.

……

……

Yan Chi, Prince Rui's heir apparent who had disappeared for many days, reappeared in public view on the very day he was enfeoffed and inherited the title.

As it was the inheritance of a princely title, the Ministry of Rites had long prepared the ceremony. In addition to an imperial decree, it was necessary to pay respects to the ancestors at the Ancestral Temple.

Yan Chi was clad in a deep black court robe, with a ferocious and majestic four-clawed coiling dragon pattern adorning the hem of his robe. When he emerged from the Ancestral Temple, the entire court could not detect obvious grief on him, only feeling that this newly appointed Prince Rui carried an exceptionally somber aura. Following closely behind Yan Chi was Yan Li, also dressed in a black court robe.

Their court robes were of the same style, differing only slightly in patterns. Yan Li, who had always been unrestrained, used to favor wearing bright red wide-sleeved robes. Now, suddenly clad in court attire, he stood beside Yan Chi without being completely overshadowed. Though his stature and presence could not match Yan Chi's, and thus he appeared less imposing, his exquisitely refined features, set against the solemn court robe, gave him an inexplicable natural grace, as if all the physical advantages of the Yan imperial family had converged in him alone. The elder officials standing outside the Ancestral Temple had a momentary daze, almost seeing the youthful Prince Gong in him.

Prince Gong... these three words, like a curse, had thus reappeared in the world.

After paying homage to the ancestors, Yan Chi and the others went to Chongzheng Hall to express their gratitude. In the brightly lit Imperial Study, there was no stove, and the chilly wind swept in, yet Yan Huai did not feel cold. When he saw Yan Chi and the others enter, Yan Huai leisurely observed them for a moment. No matter how young their faces, donning this court robe added a touch of steadiness. Yan Huai nodded in satisfaction.

"You two are the first to inherit titles. From now on, you must carry yourselves appropriately."

The first to inherit titles... these words were truly ironic, but Yan Huai did not seem to think so. He issued a cold command, "Yan Chi, you will still serve in the Ministry of Justice. These days, you've been feeling unwell inside, and I've indulged you. You were tempered in Shuoxi—surely you're much better now?"

Yan Chi nodded, "Thank you for Your Majesty's consideration. Yan Chi can attend court tomorrow."

Yan Huai nodded again, then turned his gaze to Yan Li. When looking at Yan Li, Yan Huai seemed somewhat hesitant. "You're no longer young; it won't do to idle away like this forever. Your imperial grandmother worries about you the most. Is there any ministry you'd like to join?"

Yan Li raised an eyebrow and looked at Yan Huai. This inscrutable emperor stared at him with deep, unreadable eyes, making it difficult for Yan Li to discern whether the words were sincere or feigned. Pressing his lips together, Yan Li replied casually, "This humble official will follow Your Majesty's command."Yan Huai frowned as he looked at Yan Li for a moment. "You will go to the Ministry of Personnel."

Yan Li furrowed his brow but dared not refute, immediately agreeing. However, the entire court knew that this wayward heir apparent was adept at indulging in wine and women, but when it came to handling practical matters in the government offices, he was utterly clueless. What could he possibly do at the Ministry of Personnel?

"I will have someone arrange your duties. Make sure you take it seriously."

At these words, Yan Li promptly agreed once more.

Yan Huai had little else to say. "Go and see your imperial grandmother. It was she who spoke up for the two of you to inherit the titles."

Yan Huai made no attempt to conceal the fact. Yan Chi and Yan Li bowed and took their leave, exiting Chongzheng Hall.

As soon as they stepped out of Chongzheng Hall, Yan Li let out a sigh of relief. He tugged at his collar and adjusted his sleeves, feeling that the court robes were never quite comfortable no matter how he wore them. "Seventh Brother, what can I even do at the Ministry of Personnel?"

Yan Chi shook his head helplessly. "Don’t worry. Someone will teach you."

Yan Li was far from pleased. "If I’d known inheriting a title meant having to work, I might as well not have inherited it."

Yan Chi sighed as he looked at him. "There are benefits to inheriting the title. You should start taking things seriously from now on."

Yan Li remained noncommittal. In front of Yan Chi, he never felt the need to hide his true self, so his demeanor grew even more frivolous. "My mother doesn’t even pressure me. Why should the Empress Dowager worry? It’s not like I’ll starve to death."

Yan Chi’s thoughts were elsewhere. Seeing Yan Li’s petulant attitude, he didn’t respond.

Yan Li turned his gaze to Yan Chi. "Seventh Brother, you’ve lost weight these days."

Yan Chi gave a faint smile. "Not at all."

Yan Li sighed. "Sometimes I think it’s actually quite good to have lost my father right after birth. Without all those years of memories, I feel nothing when he’s mentioned now. But if my mother were to pass away suddenly, I’m afraid I’d be utterly devastated."

Yan Chi’s brow furrowed slightly. After a moment, he reached out and clasped Yan Li’s shoulder. "That’s not the way to think. How has the princess consort been lately?"

"She’s well. She even asked about you—about your marriage to Qin Guan."

Yan Chi smiled. "The princess consort must be thinking about your matters too—"

Yan Li snorted. "I have no mind for such things. There are too many beauties in the capital—how could I possibly love them all? If I have to go to the government offices every day from now on, won’t those beauties pine for me desperately…"

Yan Li wore an expression of exaggerated despair, while Yan Chi raised an eyebrow, looking utterly resigned.

"Greetings, Prince Rui. Greetings, Prince Gong…"

"Your Highnesses, the Empress Dowager has been waiting for you."

Having just inherited their titles that day, the servants of the Longevity and Health Palace were quick to address them accordingly. The old Prince Rui had recently passed away, and Prince Gong had always been a sensitive topic. As the servants bowed, they couldn’t help but feel a tremor of unease.

Yan Chi waved his hand and strode into the main hall. The Empress Dowager was reclining on a luohan bed. Seeing the two of them in court attire, her face lit up with satisfaction. After Yan Chi and Yan Li paid their respects, the Empress Dowager looked at Yan Li and said, "This attire suits you much better. From now on, you are a prince. You must no longer act recklessly."

Yan Li forced a bitter smile. "Imperial Grandmother, was it you who asked the Emperor to allow me to join the court? You know I’m not cut out for this sort of thing…"

The Empress Dowager paused, slightly taken aback. "What? The Emperor has permitted you to join the court?"Yan Li tugged at the Empress Dowager's sleeve, whining, "Grandmother, could you please speak to the Emperor again? I really don’t want to go to the Ministry of Personnel. I have no idea what I could possibly do there—wouldn’t I just be causing trouble?"

The Empress Dowager quickly snapped out of her thoughts and chuckled, "Silly child, the Emperor allowing you to join the court is a good thing. Why are you unwilling?!" She then turned to Yan Chi, "Yan Chi, starting today, you are to take him to the ministry every single day. If you dare slack off, come and tell me. Cough... My health is declining day by day—let’s see if you still dare to make me worry about you all the time..."

Yan Li looked at Yan Chi with a pleading expression. Yan Chi smiled faintly and nodded, "Yes, I promise Yan Li won’t slack off."

Hearing this, Yan Li felt utterly helpless, on the verge of tears. He clung tightly to the Empress Dowager’s arm, but she wouldn’t budge. Instead, she asked about the Emperor’s arrangements for Yan Chi. Upon learning that Yan Chi was still assigned to the Ministry of Justice, the Empress Dowager’s heart settled, at least for the moment.