Mo Li

At the city gate of Ruyang, Feng Zhiyao stood with a smile, accompanied by several local officials and a crowd of curious onlookers, watching the approaching procession. The officials from Ruyang were dressed in casual attire, which only accentuated Third Master Feng’s striking presence in his crimson robes. In contrast, the visiting party was clad in full official regalia, making the scene both solemn and oddly out of place. Leaning lazily against the city wall with a folding fan in hand, Feng Zhiyao remarked idly, “Isn’t it sweltering in all those layers?” This was precisely why he thought officialdom was overrated—having to wear three layers inside and out even in the scorching heat, practically begging to fall ill. After all, the Great Chu prided itself on being a land of propriety, and even summer court robes consisted of four or five layers. Worse still, the fabrics used for court attire were not light, breathable gauze but rather the heavy and ornate Cloud Brocade, chosen to exude imperial grandeur. Just one look at the sweat-drenched guards was enough to gauge the discomfort.

No one answered his rhetorical question, as the procession had already reached the gate. The people of Ruyang were naturally curious—the remote northwest rarely saw visits from high-ranking officials. For most locals, the prefect was the highest authority they ever encountered. Now, with Prince Ding residing in the city and two more princes along with several high officials arriving all at once, the townsfolk had flocked to the gates to witness the spectacle… or rather, to welcome the imperial envoys.

A long procession escorted by over a hundred guards halted before the city gate. From the first sandalwood-carved carriage emerged a slightly portly elder in a deep purple python robe, his hair and beard streaked with white, his demeanor haughty and dismissive. Stepping onto a guard’s back to dismount, he swept a glance over the crowd at the gate, his expression darkening instantly. Feng Zhiyao pretended not to notice, stepping forward with a smile and cupping his hands in greeting. “Feng San of Prince Ding’s Estate, at your service. By His Highness’s order, I am here to welcome both princes and esteemed officials. Feng San pays his respects to Prince De.”

“Feng San… Feng Zhiyao?” Prince De glowered at him. He had certainly heard of Feng Zhiyao, and under normal circumstances, he might have indulged a younger man with some courtesy. But today, Mo Xiuyao’s decision to send an unranked commoner to greet him was nothing short of an insult. At his advanced age, even the emperor treated him with deference—how could he tolerate such disrespect? Feng Zhiyao smiled. “Indeed, it is I. Your Highness has an excellent memory.”

Prince De’s voice was icy. “Where is Mo Xiuyao?” Though elderly, Prince De was of the same generation as Mo Xiuyao. Ordinarily, given Prince Ding’s status, Prince De would address him by his title. But since Mo Xiuyao had shown him no courtesy, he saw no need to reciprocate, calling him by name outright. Unfazed, Feng Zhiyao replied cheerfully, “The princess consort is with child, and His Highness is preoccupied with her and the Little Prince’s well-being. Thus, he could not come to greet you in person. I beg Your Highness’s forgiveness.” Prince De’s face cycled through shades of green and white. Though phrased politely, the underlying message was clear: Prince Ding was too busy doting on his wife to bother with you.

“Outrageous! The emperor has already stripped Mo Xiuyao of his title! How dare you still address him as a prince?” Prince De roared in fury.Feng Zhiyao lowered his gaze slightly. The officials standing behind him were all trusted aides of Prince Ding's Estate and could not tolerate Prince De's rudeness. Just as they were about to step forward to argue, Prince Yu, Mo Jingyu, who had been in the carriage behind, quickly caught up and hurriedly pulled Prince De aside to mediate.

"Uncle, what's the matter? After traveling all this way to Ruyang, why are we standing at the city gates getting angry? Oh... is this Third Master Feng?" Feng Zhiyao had been quite famous in the capital in the past, so Mo Jingyu naturally recognized him.

Feng Zhiyao smiled and cupped his hands in greeting. "Feng San pays his respects to Prince Yu, Lord Su, and Lord Mo."

Su Zhe, the eldest among them, looked weary and pale from the long journey but still nodded at Feng Zhiyao. Feng Zhiyao glanced at Su Zhe and sighed inwardly before stepping aside to let the group enter the city. In his youth, when he had followed Mo Xiuyao, he had received much guidance from Su Zhe. Thinking of Su Zuidie, still imprisoned in the dungeon, he couldn't help but sigh again in his heart.

"The two princes and the lords must be exhausted from the long journey. Please enter the city and rest for a while. Later, His Highness and Her Highness will host a welcoming banquet for you."

Prince De glanced at the officials and commoners around him, their expressions unfriendly, and realized that causing a scene here would only make him look bad. With a cold snort, he flicked his sleeves and strode into the city. Mo Jingyu looked around with a faint smile and followed, inwardly marveling at how Mo Xiuyao, having taken control of Ruyang for only half a year, had already won the hearts of both officials and commoners. The influence and power of Prince Ding's Estate were truly unfathomable.

Prince De, stubborn and sharp-tongued in his old age, had been slighted by Feng Zhiyao at the city gates and couldn't possibly wait until the banquet to vent his anger at Mo Xiuyao. Once inside the city, he ignored the inn Feng Zhiyao had arranged for their temporary stay and headed straight for the Prefect's residence.

What he didn't realize was that Mo Xiuyao had never intended to send anyone to welcome him in the first place. If Feng Zhiyao hadn't brought people to meet them, Prince De's grand procession would have arrived at the city gates to find no one waiting—an even more humiliating scenario.

Upon reaching the Prefect's residence, however, he was informed that the prince and princess had just moved to a new estate. The Prefect's residence was now the official residence of the Ruyang Prefect. Furious, Prince De led his entourage toward Prince Ding's Estate in the southeastern part of Ruyang.

Since Prince De was the leader of this delegation to the northwest, his refusal to rest and insistence on confronting Mo Xiuyao meant the others had no choice but to follow.

Prince Ding's Estate was located on Xuanwu Avenue, the main thoroughfare in the southeastern part of Ruyang. Though it couldn't compare in size or grandeur to the Prince Ding's Estate in the Chu capital, after months of renovations, it had taken on a formidable presence. The estate embodied the simplicity and boldness of the northwest, exuding an air of solemnity.

Above the gate, the three characters "Prince Ding's Estate" were inscribed with vigorous, sweeping strokes. Prince De trembled with rage. "Outrageous! Utterly outrageous! What does Mo Xiuyao think he's doing?"

The others remained silent. Prince De wasn't actually seeking an answer—he simply wanted to vent. Mo Jingyu stood to the side, seemingly indifferent, as if admiring the scenery.Before long, someone came out to invite the group inside. At the same time, Prince De's expression grew even more unpleasant. Not only had Mo Xiuyao failed to greet them outside the city, but he hadn’t even come to the estate gates. The faces of the other three behind him also darkened—not because of wounded pride, but because Prince Ding’s attitude made it clear he had no intention of giving the imperial court any face. This meant… their mission was likely to be far more difficult than expected. Mo Jingqi silently cursed Mo Jingqi in his heart. As a carefree prince, it made no difference to him who sat on the throne. Yet Mo Jingqi had ruined relations with Prince Ding’s Estate himself, only to send him all the way to the northwest now. If Mo Xiuyao truly harbored rebellious intentions, would any of them make it back to the capital alive?

Wei Lin led the group into the estate with an impassive expression. His youthful face made him seem entirely unfit for the role of estate steward. Of course, he wasn’t one—he’d simply been slower to dodge the responsibility than Zhuo Jing and Lin Han, leaving him temporarily stuck with the job. Glancing sideways at Feng Zhiyao, who strolled leisurely beside him, Wei Lin silently agreed with his opinion. The title of "steward" sounded far too dignified and venerable for someone as young and vibrant as himself. Every time someone addressed him as "Steward Wei," he felt a faint pang of stomachache.

In the main hall, Mo Xiuyao was seated, chatting with Ye Li. When Wei Lin ushered the visitors in, he didn’t bother with formalities, merely offering a faint smile. "Prince De, Prince Yu, Lord Su, Lord Mo—please, have a seat." Mo Xiuyao’s silver hair was casually tied back, and his smiling eyes held a warmth absent from his previous aloof demeanor in the capital. Yet instead of inviting closeness, it only deepened the unease in those who saw him. Until now, Mo Xiuyao had concealed his appearance, so despite Mo Jingqi’s efforts to plant spies in Ruyang, no one in the capital knew about his sudden whitened hair. The sight now came as a shock.

Prince De narrowed his eyes and snorted coldly. "Has your time away from the capital made you forget all propriety? It seems the Emperor was right to call you arrogant!" Mo Xiuyao studied the fuming prince with amusement. Propriety? Did he expect him to bow? In Prince De’s eyes, Mo Xiuyao was now a commoner stripped of his title by the Emperor—someone who should, by all rights, pay him respects. Unfortunately for Prince De, from the moment he entered Ruyang, he was doomed to nothing but frustration.

"Arrogant? If I recall correctly, His Majesty accused me of treason and rebellion. Isn’t that right, Feng San?" Mo Xiuyao’s tone was light, almost playful, but his eyes glinted with a chilling coldness.

Feng Zhiyao fanned himself lazily and grinned. "Indeed, Your Highness. That’s precisely what the imperial edict stated."

"How dare you, Mo Xiuyao! You—" Prince De, cut off mid-sentence by their remarks, erupted in fury. Crack. A crisp sound strangely drowned out Prince De’s furious roar. Everyone turned to look—the white jade teacup in Mo Xiuyao’s hand shattered instantly, and several fragments fell to the ground with a clear clink. Mo Xiuyao slowly opened his palm, letting white powder slip from his grasp and drift onto the floor before him. Prince De’s voice seemed to choke in his throat; his mouth opened and closed, but no words came out for a long moment.

Then Mo Xiuyao smiled and said, “Prince De, lower your voice. If you frighten my beloved consort and the Little Prince… that would truly put me in a difficult position.”

Meeting Mo Xiuyao’s icy gaze, Prince De shuddered involuntarily, inexplicably recalling the seven thousand soldiers Mo Xiuyao had slaughtered. After a long silence, Prince De ultimately dared not say another word, his well-maintained face alternating between green and red.

Mo Jingyu glanced around the hall and forced a conciliatory smile. “His Highness has traveled a long way and is understandably irritable. We hope Prince Ding will forgive him.”

Mo Xiuyao swept a glance at him and replied lightly, “Ah, is that so? Then it’s no matter—hot weather naturally stirs tempers. The northwest is far less prosperous than the capital, after all. I’ll have someone prepare more cooling dishes for Prince De later.”

Mo Jingyu’s smile stiffened, but he had no choice but to press on. He had already realized that if his hot-tempered uncle continued speaking, they might provoke Mo Xiuyao’s wrath—and none of them would leave alive. “The northwest is harsh—bitterly cold in winter, scorching in summer, and dreadfully remote. Since the campaign has long been settled, why not return to the capital soon, Prince Ding? It would spare your consort and the Little Prince further suffering here.”

“Return to the capital?” Mo Xiuyao arched a brow as if hearing something amusing, his gaze fixed on Mo Jingyu. It had been a while, yet this idle prince’s ability to lie through his teeth had improved. Mo Jingqi had already stripped him of his title and military authority by imperial decree, not to mention the widely publicized accusations of treason. And now Mo Jingyu was telling him to return to the capital? Had Mo Jingyu lost his mind, or did he think Mo Xiuyao had lost his?

Mo Jingyu’s mind was perfectly sound—it was the man above him who had lost his. Struggling to maintain his smile, Mo Jingyu cursed Mo Jingqi a thousand times in his heart. Forget Mo Xiuyao finally losing patience—even his own brother had rebelled. At this rate, he might revolt too.

His eyes flicked to Su Zhe seated across from him, silently hoping Mo Xiuyao would show the elder some respect. After all, Su Zhe was something of a mentor to Mo Xiuyao, who had always held the old minister in high regard.Su Zhe looked at Mo Xiuyao's silver hair and sighed heavily in his heart. They, the old men, had witnessed firsthand how Mo Xiuyao had transformed from that dazzling, fiery youth full of vigor to the man he was today. Mo Xiuyao had once been his most accomplished student and the future son-in-law he had placed great hopes upon. Yet, over the past decade, watching him struggle step by step, Su Zhe had been powerless to help. Whether the current situation was Mo Xiuyao's fault, Su Zhe did not know—Su family had long been distant from the core of the imperial court. But one thing Su Zhe understood clearly: Mo Xiuyao absolutely must not return to the capital now! Thus, when he noticed Mo Jingyu's gaze upon him, Su Zhe merely lowered his eyes and sipped his tea calmly, as if oblivious. With Su Zhe unwilling to speak, Mo Jian, being of low rank and little influence, naturally had no say. Mo Jingyu seethed inwardly but could do nothing.

The atmosphere in the hall grew increasingly tense. Ye Li's serene gaze swept lightly over the group before she spoke softly, "You’ve traveled a long way and must be weary. Why not rest and freshen up first? We can discuss matters this evening."

Mo Jingyu, caught in a dilemma, was only too glad to agree. He quickly smiled and said, "The Princess Ding is right. This prince has been presumptuous."

Since Ye Li had spoken, Mo Xiuyao naturally had no objections. He turned to her with concern and asked, "Are you tired? Let me take you back to rest." Without another glance at the guests still seated in the hall, he helped Ye Li up and left, tossing a casual instruction to Feng Zhiyao and Wei Lin to "entertain the guests properly" before striding away with her.

Only after Mo Xiuyao and Ye Li disappeared through the door did Prince De finally catch his breath. Pointing at the doorway, he gasped angrily, "What... what kind of attitude is that?" Mo Jingyu gave a bitter smile and tried to placate him, "This is Princess Ding’s first pregnancy, and she has just returned from a harrowing ordeal. It’s only natural for Prince Ding to be anxious. Why must Your Highness be angry?" Prince De snorted, gulped down a mouthful of tea, and barely managed to suppress his fury. Nearby, Feng Zhiyao raised an eyebrow and said with a smile, "Your Highnesses, originally our prince was staying in the cramped governor’s residence, so we arranged for your lodgings at an inn. But now that His Highness and Her Highness have moved to this new estate, we invite Your Highnesses and the two ministers to rest here." Prince De rolled his eyes at him—of course he wouldn’t stay at an inn. As the emperor’s uncle and an imperial envoy, being tossed into a common inn would make him the laughingstock of the capital upon his return.

Wei Lin cast an impassive glance at the group before turning to arrange their accommodations.The night was ablaze with lights throughout Ruyang City. Unlike the earlier sparse welcoming party, the banquet held in honor of the guests was exceptionally grand. It was set up on the city tower at the eastern gate of Ruyang. Looking down from above onto Xuanwu Street, the thoroughfare was packed with surging crowds, and both sides of the street were adorned with lanterns and decorations, creating a lively and festive atmosphere. The city tower was equally bustling with toasts and revelry, accompanied by music and dance. Every civil and military official in or near Ruyang, as well as the local gentry and prominent families, attended the evening banquet.

Although Prince Ding had been stationed in Ruyang City for half a year, only a handful of the city's residents had actually seen him in person. As for Princess Ding, it could be said she had never made a public appearance. Thus, when everyone saw Prince Ding—dressed in a white robe edged with silver dragon embroidery, his snow-white hair exuding an extraordinary aura—leading a graceful, dignified woman in green, visibly pregnant with a serene and beautiful countenance, up the city tower, they were all momentarily stunned. The two figures, one in white and the other in green, stood side by side, appearing perfectly harmonious and natural, as if they were always meant to be this way.

Mo Xiuyao carefully supported Ye Li as they ascended the platform, gently helping her sit down. Many of the soldiers below had not seen Mo Xiuyao for a long time, and those who had previously followed Ye Li were especially moved, shouting in unison, "We pay our respects to the Prince and Princess!" Inspired by their fervor, the civil officials on the other side also rose and bowed, declaring, "We pay our respects to the Prince and Princess, and congratulate Your Highnesses on the impending birth of the Little Prince!"

Though Mo Xiuyao wasn't particularly fond of the little one stubbornly lingering in A Li's belly, he was in high spirits at the moment. With a wave of his hand, he said, "Rise, all of you."

Meanwhile, the commotion on the city tower reached the celebrating crowds below. The people, who had been reveling in the streets, turned toward the tower and knelt. Someone at the front shouted, "We wish the Prince and Princess a thousand years of health and peace! Congratulations on the Princess's safe return!" Once the call was raised, the rest of the crowd followed suit, their voices nearly shaking the entire city of Ruyang.

Mo Xiuyao raised a cup of wine and stood, addressing the people below in a voice amplified by his inner energy, "Rise. Tonight, officials and citizens shall rejoice together—enjoy yourselves freely. I toast to all of you." His voice carried far and wide. The people below stood and cheered, the atmosphere growing even more jubilant than before.

On the city tower, the guests rose with their cups and said, "Our gratitude to the Prince and Princess."

After drinking a toast, Mo Xiuyao sat back down and said, "Be at ease, everyone. No need for formalities."

Music and dance resumed, filling the tower with harmony and joy. Only Prince De and Prince Yu, seated at the front among the guests, wore expressions of extreme displeasure. Neither had expected that, despite the court's relentless efforts to tarnish Prince Ding's reputation, Mo Xiuyao could still command such unwavering loyalty and reverence from the officials and citizens of Ruyang in just half a year. What was meant to be a welcoming banquet had instead become a resounding slap in the face—to them and to the imperial court.