Chen Yu, reborn

News of His Majesty's late-night arrival was kept within Chen Yang's courtyard.

Dawn was approaching, and the hazy morning light brushed the windows with a veil of misty blue.

The child on the bed seemed trapped in a nightmare, his brows knotted and his face contorted. His breathing grew faster and faster until it reached a breaking point, and his body jerked upright to save itself before his mind could react.

Chen Yu's eyes flew open.

He stared blankly at the room, so familiar yet so strange.

The enormous Cloth Tiger, the low, squat huanghuali bed, the mica-colored double-layered curtains patterned with plum blossoms...

He looked down at his hands. They were unmistakably a child's hands.

Fireworks exploded in Chen Yu's mind, their urgent heat searing him until he could not stay still for another moment.

He threw aside the bed curtains and opened the door, not even stopping to put on his shoes.

The swing beneath the two wooden posts swayed in the morning breeze, swaying Chen Yu back into his peaceful, happy childhood.

Tears streamed down Chen Yu's face.

The old nurse came out, roused by the noise.

"Oh! Young master, why did you come out without your shoes? Why are you crying?"

Chen Yu wiped his tears and said hoarsely,

"I had a nightmare."

The old woman's heart ached at that. She began fussing, "I said we should have Chun Ya stay in the adjoining room to watch over you. We can't let this happen again. If you catch a chill, you'll have to take bitter medicine."

Chen Yu could not take in a word she said. "Where are Mother, Uncle, and Aunt?"

The old woman reassured him, "His lordship, the young lady, and your mother are all asleep."

Chen Yu looked at the sky and said nothing more.

In his previous life, the emperor had been cruel and incompetent. He had framed the Chen Family for secretly stockpiling armor to plot rebellion and wiped out their entire household. Only Chen Yu had survived, rescued by his teacher and forced to live under a false name.

From that moment onward, Chen Yu had made vengeance his purpose.

He had entered the court and become the Crown Prince's study companion...

The Crown Prince. His Majesty. Wu Junji.

At the thought of that name, Chen Yu's heart ached with a bitter pang.

He remembered the Peaceful People's Encyclopedia he had burned to ashes.

The Peaceful People's Encyclopedia had been compiled by the Crown Prince: 5,700 volumes, over a hundred million characters, ten years of work. Across thousands of days and nights, Wu Junji had nearly worked himself blind completing it.

It was an encyclopedia that gathered the writings of a hundred schools, encompassing astronomy, geography, yin and yang, medicine and divination, agriculture, crafts and engineering, commerce and law, the classics, histories, philosophical works, literary collections...

Had it been published, Wu Junji's name would surely have stood at the pinnacle of the literary world.

Yet Chen Yu had consigned it to the flames.

That blaze had burned away the bond between two students of the same teacher, and with it, the heir who had always aspired to clear the skies.

From then on, Wu Junji had withdrawn completely, becoming a spider spinning silk in a corner. The more silk he spun, the more his body shriveled.

In the end, he had been like a shattered glass mirror: one point of damage, cracks shooting outward, growing deeper, more numerous, denser, until-bang!

Everything went dark.

As though possessed, Chen Yu raised his hand and sniffed it beneath his nose. It smelled perfectly clean.

There was none of that crisp, refreshing Water-Born Fragrance.

Terrified that his rebirth was only a dream, Chen Yu endured until sunrise, then hurriedly dressed and went to see his mother.

Chen Yu's father had died of illness before the family households could separate. The old patriarch had decided that Chen Yang should care for Chen Yu and his mother until Chen Yu could shoulder the household himself, at which point they would establish their own.

After the old patriarch died a few years ago, Chen Yang had continued to honor that promise. He divided the marshal's residence in two and built a dividing wall with a gate, keeping the two households adjacent so they could easily look after one another.

Chen Yang had taught Chen Yu his first lessons and martial arts, while Chen Jin doted on her nephew. Their family bonds ran deep.

Only when Chen Yu saw that strong yet gentle woman did he finally dare to believe he had truly been reborn.

He flung himself into his mother's arms and sobbed quietly.

Madam Chen grew frantic at his crying and asked what had happened.

When Chen Yu finished crying, he lowered his head. "I had a nightmare. I dreamed Mother didn't want me anymore."

Madam Chen burst into laughter.

She held him for a long while, showering him with affection.

Inside, Chen Yu was an adult around forty years old. After struggling with the awkwardness for a while, he fled in embarrassment.

He opened the western gate and stepped into the Grand Marshal's Residence, filled with anticipation.

There was still time for everything in this life. Once he saw Uncle and Aunt...

Chen Yu could not help thinking of Wu Junji again.

That cruel yet gentle, godlike man.

"Uncle!"

"Aunt!"

Chen Yu was immersed in the joy of rebirth...

Wu Junji was immersed in the joy of being brought back to the imperial palace.

To be honest, as long as he could live even a little better than in his previous life, he wanted to live.

If the old geezer really did dump him somewhere... well, he would not go off and die either.

He would wait until he grew up. No matter how many years it took, as long as he had a chance, he would crawl back to Chang'an if he had to.

Crown Prince. Heir apparent.

He wanted those titles so badly!

Even though his previous life had been arduous and ended miserably, Wu Junji had never regretted it.

Restlessness was in his bones. He wanted to climb the ladder to heaven, wanted to scheme for the dragon throne. If someone was destined to be emperor, why couldn't it be him?

The little ball of dough gulped down his meal on the luxurious dragon bed.

Emperor Zhou watched, entranced. He had canceled court that day.

His purpose was to make interested parties investigate why he had canceled court, spreading news of Wu Junji's existence that way.

The little fellow had big, dark eyes. Once full, he grunted and rolled over to face him, smiling and drooling.

He cooed and babbled, full of things to say, though none of them were intelligible.

Wu Junji admired the old geezer's broad face. Funny enough, during the wars in the later years of the Zhou Dynasty, poems and essays cursing the old geezer had been as plentiful as autumn leaves, yet people still disputed claims that he had been ugly.

Even historians, usually sparing with their words, had willingly spent extra ink describing him-handsome and graceful in bearing, his voice resonant as the shang note, his frame a work of nature, unmatched in all the world.

Because of the unusual circumstances of Wu Junji's birth, most of his genes had come from Emperor Zhou. Father and son looked very alike.

But in their previous lives, their temperaments and manner had differed so greatly that people easily overlooked the resemblance.

"What time were the little fellow and the young prince in Changchun Palace born?"

The trusted eunuch froze, a chill prickling down his spine.

He certainly did not think His Majesty was asking idly.

Lately, everyone in Changchun Palace had been loudly and proudly calling their child the eldest prince. His Majesty, however, had never once used those words, referring to him only as "the prince in Changchun Palace."

The trusted eunuch calculated the times and could not help clicking his tongue inwardly. The prince in Changchun Palace was the second-born.

The trusted eunuch knew how to proceed.

"His Highness Ji was born at a quarter to eight in the morning on the fifth day of the seventh month. His Highness Zheng was born at noon that same day."

Their births were only one double-hour apart, yet their standing would be worlds apart.

Emperor Zhou nodded in satisfaction.

"Then Jier is the elder brother."

Wu Junji was stunned. He stared blankly at Emperor Zhou's face. No way. The old geezer asked when I was born... could he be thinking of making me Crown Prince?

This was a dynasty in an alternate world. Its history differed somewhat from what he had learned in modern history textbooks, though the dynasties' names were not very different. If he had to draw a comparison, the Zhou Dynasty resembled a cross between Tang and Song.

The preceding dynasty had been called Tang, but the Great Ancestor of Zhou had not been named Zhao Kuangyin, so there was naturally no historical reference for how the Zhou Dynasty would develop.

To learn from the bloody struggles for the throne in Former Tang, after founding the Zhou Dynasty, the Great Ancestor had decreed: appoint the Crown Prince in childhood, choose the eldest legitimate son, and have all other brothers support him.

Great Zhou had seen four emperors so far, each with few children. For three generations, the emperors had named their sons Crown Prince as soon as they were born, then appointed an empress. In other words, whoever bore the first son became empress.

Miraculously, all three Crown Princes had grown up safely and succeeded smoothly. Each had excelled in both civil and martial affairs and become a wise ruler of his age, governing Great Zhou into ever greater prosperity.

The empress of each reign had also been virtuous, serving as a model mother to the realm.

Thus, the belief that making the emperor's eldest son Crown Prince would bring prosperity to the nation had become a universally accepted truth.

The tradition of appointing the Crown Prince before the empress had endured with it.

The struggle for succession in his previous life had stemmed precisely from Emperor Zhou breaking that consensus.

He had already been sixteen when he returned to the palace. The princes were all grown, with ambitions and factions of their own. How could they willingly accept a beggar as Crown Prince?

Though the tradition of appointing the eldest son still carried weight, he simply could not command their allegiance.

Even the fact that he was the eldest had gone unacknowledged. Everyone had treated it as an excuse Emperor Zhou used to balance the court.

But in this life, at this moment, the time of his birth carried tremendous weight.

Emperor Zhou's words spread like the wind.

His Majesty had returned to the palace late at night with a child, and that child was the true eldest prince.

The one in Changchun Palace was the Second Prince!

No one reacted more strongly than the people in Changchun Palace. Plump little Wu Junzheng rolled about excitedly as a crowd of servants coaxed him, playing with a toy carriage.

Consort Dong was trying on various nail guards. Since the eldest prince's birth, she had replaced her sharp gold guards with jade ones.

From time to time, she glanced over at the eldest prince playing happily, her face full of maternal affection.

Then someone hurried over and whispered something in her ear.

Consort Dong's expression changed at once.

She ordered them to take the eldest prince away.

"Wasn't His Majesty supposed to have difficulty having children? How did another son suddenly appear?"

"And one born before Zheng'er? Which woman gave birth to him?"

The servant shook her head. "Your Highness, His Majesty brought only the child. There was no sign of his birth mother."

Emperor Zhou had taken a secondary consort at sixteen. Over the next four years, he had taken more than a dozen maidservants as concubines, yet not one had conceived.

Only Consort Dong had become pregnant, and she had been overjoyed. She guarded her pregnancy with utmost care, not daring to let anyone know until three months had safely passed, when she told Emperor Zhou and the Empress Dowager.

During her pregnancy, rewards had flowed like water. The Dong family's standing had risen with the tide, and her belly had not disappointed her: she had delivered a boy, His Majesty's first child.

With such a splendid future before her, a bastard had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, born even earlier than Zheng'er!

Consort Dong was terribly distressed.

"If Zheng'er isn't the eldest prince, doesn't that mean I can't become empress?"

Her maid said tactfully, "Your Highness, perhaps there is still room to turn things around. Nothing has been settled yet."

After some thought, Consort Dong went to the Palace of Eternal Longevity to pay her respects to the Empress Dowager.

The Empress Dowager sent her away and had someone summon the emperor.

Emperor Zhou went to the Palace of Eternal Longevity with Wu Junji in his arms.

That alone made his position clear.

The Empress Dowager felt helpless. Wu Junji's birth had been bizarre. If Emperor Zhou abandoned the child, she and the Retired Emperor would simply pretend he had never existed.

If Emperor Zhou wished to raise him, he could be kept in the palace as the Second Prince.

But Emperor Zhou wanted to make him Crown Prince.

That last choice troubled the Empress Dowager, but with three generations of wise rulers as precedent, how could she dare suggest choosing another?

Even the Retired Emperor dared not openly propose appointing his second grandson.

The Great Ancestor's injunction to choose the eldest legitimate son remained enshrined in the Clan Ancestral Shrine, and the three generations of wise rulers were undeniable.

Even the eminent monks in the temples had said that by appointing the eldest, Great Zhou would prosper for generations.

It had almost become a prophecy. Who dared gamble against it?

The Empress Dowager sighed. "Very well. As long as the Retired Emperor agrees, no one at court will dare object. Take..."

Emperor Zhou smoothly supplied, "Wu Junji."

"Jun as in sovereign, ji as in the altars of state."

Naming the little prince in Changchun Palace Wu Junzheng and the child in his arms Wu Junji made his intentions more than clear.

The Empress Dowager nodded. "Take Jier to see your father."

Emperor Zhou complied and withdrew.

The Retired Emperor was a sturdy little old man in his fifties. Comparing their ages alone made it clear how difficult having children had been for him.

After more than ten years of effort, he had finally obtained one child, only for that child to have a bodily abnormality. He had tried for another twenty-odd years, with countless women in his harem, without producing another. What could he do, however dissatisfied he was? He still had to cherish the one he had like a treasure.

Recently, the Retired Emperor had become engrossed in fishing and mysticism.

Every day, he fished while pressing the abbot with questions about the future.

For instance, "Abbot, calculate how many fish I'll catch today."

"Abbot, calculate how many grandsons I'll have."

"Abbot, calculate how long I'll live."

The abbot dared divine an answer to the first question. For the others, he could only evade.

The abbot had profound mastery of Buddhist teachings. As the two sparred back and forth, the Retired Emperor failed to extract much useful information.

"Your Majesty, His Majesty is coming."

The Retired Emperor looked puzzled. After three breaths, he spotted Emperor Zhou approaching in the distance with a child in his arms.

His gaze sharpened, and a trace of complicated emotion flashed through it.

He could not feel close even to his only son, much less fond of this grandson.

He had abdicated in haste precisely to keep himself from doing something foolish, such as deposing his son and appointing his second grandson.

Before Wu Junji's birth, the Retired Emperor had secretly sought divinations without Emperor Zhou or the Empress Dowager knowing. He had consulted every mystic with any ability, and all had given the same answer-the eldest grandson would bring prosperity to the nation; otherwise, endless calamities would follow.

Even those answers had failed to convince the Retired Emperor.

Now, as luck would have it, he had an opportunity. Pointing at Wu Junji, the Retired Emperor asked Abbot Tianxuan,

"Master, please look at this child. What will his future hold?"

Emperor Zhou held Wu Junji upright. Unable to control his drooling, Wu Junji gnawed on his fist in the hope of keeping a little of it in.

Emperor Zhou silently pulled his hand away.

Wu Junji calmly went back to sucking on it.

Emperor Zhou pulled it away again, and he sucked on it again.

Father and son were both stubborn as mules, seemingly caught in an endless loop.

The little one did not fuss at being treated this way, and the grown one did not get annoyed. It was unexpectedly funny and harmonious.

While battling the old geezer, Wu Junji studied Abbot Tianxuan curiously. He truly lived up to his reputation as an eminent monk: his face was soothing to look at, and his aura was clean, making people instinctively want to draw close.

A faint ripple stirred in Abbot Tianxuan's meditative heart. He gazed deeply at Wu Junji and said meaningfully:

"Your Majesties should know that this humble monk can read only His Little Highness's mortal fate, not his heavenly destiny."

Wu Junji felt the atmosphere suddenly turn strange.

The Retired Emperor fell silent for a moment, then laughed heartily.

"Of course. Matters of heavenly destiny can only be left for Heaven to decide."

"Until the piece is placed on the board, it is all a gamble. I understand, I understand."

Abbot Tianxuan bowed deeply.

"Your Retired Majesty, Your Majesty, the eldest prince bears the sign of a young dragon coiled within the palace."

He paused, then put it more plainly. "This child was born with an emperor's destiny."

Everyone present froze.

For a moment, they could not believe their ears.

Only three of them understood the true weight of "born with an emperor's destiny." It was something no human effort could change. Whether or not they chose Wu Junji as Crown Prince, he would become an emperor one day.

Throughout history, everyone foretold to possess such a destiny had, without exception...

The Retired Emperor thought of that matter, and his heart trembled.

It could not be spoken to others, could not be committed to paper, and could not be seen by mortals.

It was a rule that could only be understood without words.

The circumstances of Wu Junji's birth had been far too dramatic.

That fool Consort Dong had waited until she was three months pregnant to announce it.

Had she spoken even a month earlier, Emperor Zhou would never have been forced to take that desperate gamble, and Wu Junji would never have existed.

That was the first point.

The imperial physician had said that Emperor Zhou's constitution was unusual, and he would very likely be unable to carry the child to term at all. Yet everything had sailed along smoothly, without a single danger.

That was the second.

Although they had prepared for both eventualities, the Retired Emperor, the Empress Dowager, and Emperor Zhou had all favored the child in Consort Dong's womb.

They had planned that even if both children were healthy little princes, Consort Dong's child had to be the eldest son.

For the sake of Emperor Zhou's health, Wu Junji was destined to be born prematurely, but according to their calculations, Consort Dong would give birth even earlier.

Yet Consort Dong had carried her child for ten full months without any sign of labor, while Emperor Zhou could no longer wait.

So the Retired Emperor had ordered the imperial physician to induce Consort Dong's labor. Who could have known that Emperor Zhou would have a minor mishap at the Temporary Palace?

In the end, the brothers were born on the same day, but Wu Junji arrived two hours before Wu Junzheng, snatching the position of eldest son.

The Retired Emperor had finally learned what it meant for human plans to fall short of Heaven's designs.

Before Emperor Zhou went to the Temporary Palace, the Retired Emperor had even instructed someone to let the little prince catch a chill in the wind. Babies born at seven months survived, while those born at eight did not; if he accidentally died, that would be perfectly normal.

Yet the servant who returned reported that the infant, only a few months old, could pull a blanket over himself.

Now even Abbot Tianxuan had stated outright that this child was meant to be an emperor. What more could he say?

He simply waved a hand.

"Go, go, go. Appoint him, appoint him, appoint him. I'm washing my hands of it."

"I'll only watch his General Summoning when he turns three."