Chapter 876: On the Way Home (5)

Qing’s head tilted slightly.

For some reason, Jayu’s expression was... subtle.

The corners of his eyes drooped in a faint way, his gaze was strangely moist and oily, and his mouth looked pitiful, like he’d forced the ends upward by hand.

What was that expression supposed to mean?

Jayu cleared his throat.

“There is no need to be so disheartened. Affairs of state are like that, and the fate carried by the bloodline of the Celestial Dynasty is a ruthless one.”

“Huh?”

“They call an Imperial Prince a ‘king,’ but is there any prestige in this world more hollow than that? Once the Crown Prince is established, any other imperial scion is nothing more than a danger that threatens the Dragon Throne, so they dress him up with the ornament called ‘Imperial Prince’ and exile him to some far place, nothing more.”

Jayu smiled bitterly.

“And do you think it is any different for a princess? When barbarians run wild, the nation falls into chaos and countless blood is spilled, so it is more profitable to send one person to soothe them. This is not something the Son of Heaven decides by private sentiment, so it was not decided because he particularly hated you and chose you for that reason.”

It was comfort: your father didn’t hate you and sell you off to those barbarians.

Princesses were originally like that, and it wasn’t that you had done something wrong in particular, or that you were hated, so that happened to you.

Qing’s head tilted even more.

Because Qing wasn’t in a position to be comforted, so—what? What did this mean?

“And in truth, the life of a princess sent for a marriage alliance is not so bad. Would those barbarians dare slight a princess of the Celestial Dynasty? Just as an Imperial Prince is the master within his manor, those marriage-alliance princesses go there as masters as well, so that life is no different from a palace—no, one could even say it is better than that stifling Forbidden City.”

People from Qing’s homeland might argue: how could it be “not bad” to be sold into a loveless political marriage, ripped away from the most advanced nation of the era, and married off to a savage tribe?

But in this primitive ancient Central Plains, marrying the lover you wanted was rare to begin with.

It was common for bride and groom not to even know each other’s faces before marriage.

Usually, the reason men took concubines was because the principal wife was the woman the family had chosen, so the one their heart truly leaned toward would be taken as a secondary wife or concubine.

And it wasn’t as if the Forbidden City was some sweet home for princesses, some comfortable place of the heart, either. Most of the time, it wasn’t.

So Qing nodded.

Come to think of it, for fake Yeonsul, this might even be for the best.

The only thing that bothered her was—

“Uh, but is it really okay to send a fake to the barbarians? If they find out, it feels like they might get angry instead?”

“What would there be to find out. If the Celestial Dynasty says she is a princess, then she is a princess.”

In fact, it didn’t matter if they sent a fake.

It was common to openly send a fake princess in the first place.

One: call over any palace maid.

Two: adopt her, and grant her rank—From now on, you are the Son of Heaven’s daughter.

Three: sell her off to the barbarians, and it’s done.

Among the women who were transformed into “princesses” overnight and then sold off to barbarians, the most famous was Wang Zhaojun.

One of the Four Great Beauties of all ages—among all women from past to present, one of the four most beautiful—Wang Zhaojun.

And the process was absurd.

The Son of Heaven at the time, Emperor Yuan, prepared a marriage alliance to soothe the violent Xiongnu barbarians.

A fake princess was usually chosen from palace maids—palace women.

But a palace woman was a potential woman of the Son of Heaven.

So even if it was a marriage alliance, he felt it was a waste to marry a palace woman off to savages.

So he pondered: which maid would be the least wasteful, who would he not regret sending, and then he clapped his hands.

Right—she was a maid being sent to barbarians anyway, so he should send the ugliest one!

So he issued an imperial order to bring portraits of the palace women.

But then?

The portrait painter took money from the palace women and added “minor touch-ups” to the portraits.

Depending on the size of the bribe, the portrait became more beautiful—and if you paid even more, you could even make someone else’s portrait uglier.

So when the emperor examined those portraits with their “minor touch-ups,” he naturally had no choice but to pick the ugliest woman among them.

He notified the palace woman’s household, and after a long procedure of entering the Celestial Dynasty’s genealogy—

Finally came the moment when the emperor and his new “daughter” met for the first and last time.

Wang Zhaojun.

So beautiful. So, so, so, so beautiful.

According to records, the Son of Heaven couldn’t take his eyes off her face and lost his mind.

But he couldn’t overturn what had already been decided.

Enraged, the Son of Heaven issued an imperial order to seize that bastard who’d painted the portraits and beat him down.

For the crime of excessive touch-ups, the portrait painter met an absolutely, utterly horrific end.

Meanwhile, the primitive tribal chieftain of the Xiongnu barbarians, Huhanye, had held no expectations at all for the princess the Central Plains said they were granting him.

She would be a wife like a master he would have to serve with care, so he just hoped she at least looked human.

But then—his wife’s condition?

After confirming the beauty of his new wife, Wang Zhaojun, Chieftain Huhanye declared solemnly:

As of today, I withdraw the alliance with the Central Plains.

The Central Plains and the Xiongnu are one body, unified as one.

Loyalty, loyalty! Your Majesty, may you live ten thousand years!

That gratitude was so immense that afterward, the Xiongnu became a very loyal tributary state and did not invade the Central Plains.

Wang Zhaojun also suffered a small problem—because of the levirate custom, where if a father died the son inherited the mother as a wife, she ended up marrying after her husband’s death—

But fortunately it wasn’t her biological son, so in any case, she lived happily for a long, long time.

In addition, Wang Zhaojun freely shared the developed technologies of the Central Plains and was greatly respected as the mother of the Xiongnu.

So much so that her “son” even created a new Xiongnu law: when a son inherited his father’s women, the biological mother would be an exception.

“So if you look at Wang Zhaojun’s tale, you will understand that what they call a marriage alliance is not necessarily a bad thing for a princess.”

Qing’s head tilted even further, to the point where it was practically slanted sideways now.

What is it? That voice? Why is oil dripping from his voice? Why is he pretending to be so gentle?

But Qing decided to let it pass for now.

Maybe for Princess Yeonsul, too, it might actually be better to go as part of a marriage alliance.

If she was living in the palace as a fake, how comfortable could her heart have been?

Qing hadn’t met her, so she couldn’t know whether she’d been living well in the Forbidden City, patting her belly and enjoying herself, or whether she’d been tormented and spending sleepless nights in suffering.

But in any case, she had lived as a princess, so she would have to accept a princess’s fate.

About that much?

She was a stranger anyway.

There was no reason for Qing to care, right?

“Mm. Then... well.”

“What I mean is, ahem, I hope you are not too hurt.”

Above Qing’s head, the symbol of her homeland—question marks—popped up in a swarm.

What? The conclusion is weird.

Was this supposed to be a situation where I got hurt?

Which part was I supposed to be hurt by?

Only then did Qing understand Jayu’s expression.

It was pity—tender, wistful gentleness!

“Wait. What? Why would I be hurt? Is this a moment where I’m supposed to be pitiful? What is it? Was I missing the hint?”

“Hm? Because, ahem, even if the princess going to the marriage alliance is fake Yeonsul, His Majesty would... well, wouldn’t he. He would think the fake is real.”

“Huh. No? His Majesty knows too, though?”

Jayu’s expression became something worth seeing.

He looked newly, impressively stupid.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Your tone.”

“Right now my tone isn’t the issue—what in the world is—”

“You didn’t hear the rumor? They say the young hero Seomun Cheong stopped by the Forbidden City. And you got found out there.”

The Son of Heaven was a complicated opponent for Qing.

Before she stopped by the Forbidden City, he was a filthy bastard—

and by his behavior, the Son of Heaven even now was a disqualified human being, a cold-blooded monster with no blood or tears.

But even if he was a bad bastard, by the primitive ancient Central Plains’ view of rule, he was also a diligent sovereign.

That was probably something the number above his head—zero, with nothing above or below—guaranteed as well.

And if she thought about what Princess Haryeon had said—

In truth, a father who loved his daughter, just like fathers always were when they were stiff and awkward: stingy with expression, and wrong in method.

A lonely head of household who was not understood, and a husband who was subtly henpecked, a tired and exhausted office worker—mm, since he was the Son of Heaven, the boss? the chairman? Only the company was the entire Central Plains.

Qing’s weakness was affection.

If someone said they liked her, she melted into mush and opened her heart at once, so even the demonic master Choi Riyong and that whole Seol House Commercial Guild with their heavy karma were, to Qing, nothing more than welcome acquaintances.

The moment Princess Haryeon whispered, Dad is actually having a hard time too, and he loves you, Qing’s hostility softened.

And judging by the Son of Heaven’s attitude, it even seemed like that was true.

And then there was the great thorn in her—an ego that could not see itself as Yeonsul, a body thief—bringing guilt toward him as well.

“So? What happened? With my elder brother’s disposition, he would not have tried to send you off. Especially since you had set foot in that Martial World he so despises.”

“Uh, from what I heard, it wasn’t an emotional reason, it was just: it’s business, so I have to kill you cleanly? Honestly, it might’ve been more human if it had been emotional.”

Jayu spat out a cold sneer.

“Hah. Human. Are those words to say about my elder brother?”

“Mm, but if you really look, it feels like he does have a little, somehow? But you keep talking in this solemn tone—are we not friends? Should I use formal speech? Should I say I meet Your Highness? I respectfully greet Your Highness—may you live ten thousand years, ten thousand years, ten ten-thousand years. Happy neeeew year to youuuuu!”

Qing threw herself flat on the floor with exaggerated movements.

Jayu coughed.

“Ahem. Mm. It became a habit. Once I kept using it, it kept sticking in my mouth.”

“That’s because you’re not staying tense. Even between friends, you can’t get too comfortable and loose—you need to keep an appropriate level of tension.”

If Qing’s friends heard that, they would find it absolutely ridiculous.

Coming from someone who, under the excuse of friendship, did everything, showed every kind of disgrace, sprawled out and stuffed her face as things escalated into ever-worse spectacle—and she was talking about tension?

But Qing was, by nature, a person generous to herself.

Between friends, that can happen, right? Once you’re true best friends, you even break wind around each other, don’t you?

“Well, that’s how it is. Now I’m officially not Princess Yeonsul. I’m Seomun Cheong, a martial artist.”

“That... mm. With my elder brother’s personality, he would never have allowed it.”

Qing flinched slightly.

The truth was, within ten years she had made an under-the-table deal she couldn’t tell others about: she would become the Martial Alliance Leader and offer the righteous Martial World to the imperial household.

Of course it wasn’t to enjoy wealth and glory. The Martial World looked like it was about to burn, so it was to buy time.

Delaying it ten years was still impressive, really.

But it wasn’t something she could say out loud.

So Qing said what she could say instead.

“Mm, but I did take an official post too. Royal Censor of the Twelve Circuits? The vibe was: if I don’t take it, I can’t go home, so... that’s how it went.”

“A vibe where you can’t go home...”

“I’m serious. It was exactly like: if you don’t take this, you can’t leave. So I couldn’t help it—what am I supposed to do, I’m a high person, so what.”

“I’m not blaming you. I’m just... mm, yes. You have to go home.”

Jayu smiled faintly.

People couldn’t help but reveal their true feelings between the lines—

it seemed that, to his friend, the Forbidden City had never been his home at all.

“Anyway.”

As Qing said that, she pressed her wrists together and made a strange clapping motion—pat pat, pat pat—striking her palms together twice in a peculiar rhythm.

“What is that? Is it some gesture used in the marketplace? I have never seen it during my undercover rounds.”

Qing grinned, a mischievous smile.

“The envelope, the envelope, it’s open. You don’t know? If you received a New Year’s bow, you have to give a red envelope. You don’t want to receive New Year’s luck? Honestly, I don’t even need New Year’s money, okay? Do you know how rich I am. But this is all because I’m specially accepting it so my friend can receive luck.”