Chapter Thirty-Five: The Grand Ceremony of the Alliance of Five Nations (Part Fifteen)

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"The six arts of music—qin, se, xiao, di—have been completed. Next, we proceed to the fifth, the xun," the Minister of Rituals declared with emphasis.

Master Shen Yin then picked up a clay xun and began to explain to the assembly: "The sound of the clay xun is profound, mournful, plaintive, and continuous, endowing it with a sacred, elegant, mysterious, and noble aura…"

For reasons unknown, as soon as Master Shen Yin spoke, Changsun Chengmin found himself growing sleepy. He yawned and stretched languidly, then nudged Su Qingfeng with his elbow, signaling for them to leave together.

The two slipped down from the stage, half concealed, half exposed. The others assumed the pair were heading to the latrines and paid little attention.

Once they were about ten meters from the platform, Su Qingfeng, exasperated, grabbed Changsun Chengmin and said, "The latrines are over there—you’re headed the wrong way."

"Who said I was going to relieve myself?" Changsun Chengmin glanced at him, yawning once more.

Su Qingfeng was puzzled. "Then where are you going?"

"Obviously out to enjoy myself. Don’t you want to hear some tunes and sip some wine?" Changsun Chengmin raised his brows mischievously.

Su Qingfeng was successfully tempted. True, it wasn’t exactly appropriate to leave at this moment, but he thought, "I don’t understand music anyway. Staying here is just to make up the numbers; I serve no real purpose. Might as well have some fun with this troublemaker."

Since following the Lord of the Pavilion, he’d never been so unruly—why not seize the opportunity…?

"Hey, if you’re not coming, I’ll go alone," Changsun Chengmin said, waving a hand before Su Qingfeng’s face when he saw no reaction.

Su Qingfeng suddenly snapped out of it. "Of course I’m coming! How could I not? I need to keep you safe, don’t I?" With that, he placed a hand on Changsun Chengmin’s shoulder and started forward.

"Come on, why aren’t you moving?" Changsun Chengmin stood still, rolled his eyes, pressed his palms together, and pleaded pitifully, "Brother, this is the parade ground, not the Pavilion of Illusions."

"I know, but what’s that got to do with you not walking?" Su Qingfeng pouted.

"You know, yet you haven’t put your hand down. Didn’t you see those guards staring at us?" Changsun Chengmin swore he was dangerously close to murderous rage at that moment.

Reminded, Su Qingfeng finally noticed the guards, hurriedly dropped his hand, and brushed nonexistent dust from Changsun Chengmin’s clothes.

"Heh, I forgot you’re the Crown Prince. Just now, I was behaving so improperly." Realizing his earlier boldness, he immediately straightened his posture and dutifully stood behind Chengmin.

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Su Qingfeng was truly slow on the uptake; he’d gotten used to treating Changsun Chengmin without deference, forgetting his place for a moment. But it was understandable—they weren’t genuinely master and servant, just that his acting needed some improvement.

Changsun Chengmin was both amused and exasperated. He felt his tall, imposing image as the Crown Prince of the Five Nations would inevitably be ruined by Su Qingfeng. Should he silence him preemptively? But he couldn’t beat him. What could be done? The only option was to endure.

"Let’s go," Changsun Chengmin said, hands clasped behind his back, exuding a bold arrogance.

Su Qingfeng, seeing his manner, silently gave a thumbs-up: "Was he a crab in his past life? Otherwise, how could he strut so domineeringly in this one?"

When they reached the gate of the parade ground, dozens of guards raised their spears, blocking Changsun Chengmin’s path. One shouted, "By imperial order, no one may leave during the competition!"

Changsun Chengmin’s expression turned icy as he swept his gaze over the speaker, who gripped his spear tighter.

"How dare you! The Crown Prince’s path is not for the likes of you to obstruct!" Su Qingfeng shed his usual levity, stepped forward, and pressed the hilt of his sword to the man's throat, rebuking him fiercely.

At the mention of the Crown Prince, the guards exchanged glances, quickly lowered their spears, and knelt: "Long live the Crown Prince!"

"Rise," Changsun Chengmin said unhurriedly, his voice full of command.

"Thank you, Your Highness," the guards replied, beads of cold sweat on their faces.

Changsun Chengmin stepped forward, but the same man barred his way again. Sweat glistened on his brow, yet he feigned composure and repeated, "By imperial order, no one may leave during the competition!"

Su Qingfeng genuinely admired him—so rare to see someone who, confronted by such authority, still performed his duty without servility or fear. Admirable indeed.

But admiration aside, Su Qingfeng knew where his loyalties lay. "The Crown Prince may freely enter and exit the Five Nations. Now he’s confined within the parade ground of Baixi Kingdom. Do you value your lives so little?" Su Qingfeng said sternly.

The other guards murmured in awe. Changsun Chengmin was second only to the Five Emperors, above all others—a man who owed no obeisance even to them. How many dared stand in his way?

"The eldest prince once said: ‘When the imperial order is issued, neither subjects nor commoners may defy it.’" The man’s voice trembled, but the resolve in his eyes was astonishing.

Changsun Chengmin and Su Qingfeng were momentarily stunned, uncertain whether to feel pained or gratified. There were still those who remembered him—remembered he lived, remembered his words…

"Are you mad? This is the Crown Prince before you, practically half an emperor. We can’t afford to cross him… Don’t risk your life over something so trivial," an older guard pulled him aside, whispering advice.

"But…" He remained hesitant. If they let Changsun Chengmin leave, they’d be defying the imperial order. If not, these dozen guards might lose their heads.

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"No buts. We can’t provoke him," the older guard said.

"Your Highness, please, this way." With that, he gripped the stubborn guard tightly, offering a smile and respectfully cleared a path. The other guards stepped aside as well.

Changsun Chengmin and Su Qingfeng glanced at the man, their expressions complex, and left.

Once they had gone some distance, the guards returned to their posts.

"Look into that man later," Changsun Chengmin said to Su Qingfeng as they walked.

"Mm."

The two walked in silence.

After about half an hour, they reached the imperial capital and found a small tavern to sit in.

"Gentlemen, what would you like to eat or drink?" The waiter bent low, asking warmly.

"Two jugs of the finest Daughter’s Red and the house specialties," Su Qingfeng replied after scanning the room.

"Certainly, please wait a moment."

"This tavern seems to have some history. The tables and stools are aged, the place is bustling, so the reputation must be good," Changsun Chengmin remarked.

"There’s a storyteller behind you. Baixi Kingdom really has a lot of storytellers," Su Qingfeng noted.

Changsun Chengmin turned to look. Indeed, a single table, a wooden clapper, and a mouth was enough to make a living—what a world.

From where they sat, the street scene was visible. In the morning, shadows crisscrossed, punctuated by occasional shouts.

Su Qingfeng rested his sword against the table, while Changsun Chengmin gently fanned himself with a folding fan.