Knowing when to hold on and when to let go

Zhang Ling was instantly bewildered. Was there something wrong with this emperor? What kind of twisted logic was this—if you don't want it, I'll give it to you; if you do, I won't. Such a capricious temperament! If they were outside the palace, he'd be tempted to give him a kick for playing with his feelings.

The man from Chenliu, still wearing a cheerful smile, asked, "You're not angry?"

Zhang Ling was well-versed in pleasantries and double-talk ever since he’d left Luochuan County. Even if the emperor was toying with him, he kept a friendly face. "All of Chen belongs to Your Majesty. If Your Majesty is willing to grant something, it is a favor; if not, it is only right."

The man from Chenliu hit the mark with a single comment: "So you are indeed angry."

Zhang Ling couldn't help but frown, cursing inwardly. This emperor, instead of discussing matters of state, found it amusing to play tricks on him?

Zhang Ling remained silent. The man from Chenliu stood up at once, his expression turning grave. "Enough jesting. It's not that I truly begrudge you a position. You are still young. At the academy, you will grow in both strength and knowledge. In time, when you come to serve, I will not be stingy. But today, I summoned you to speak of your father."

Hearing this, Zhang Ling felt a wave of apprehension. Did the emperor truly know? But how? The matter of the jade pendant had never been revealed in public; surely it couldn’t be his martial skills alone.

The man from Chenliu’s lips curled into a faint smile as he took the short sword from Zhang Ling’s hand. Drawing the blade, his face lit up for a moment with nostalgia, reluctance, and a trace of fear.

While handling the sword, he asked, "Do you know what glorious moments this short sword has seen?"

Before Zhang Ling could ponder, the man from Chenliu startled him with a single sentence: "This sword nearly took my life!"

Zhang Ling hurried to explain, "Your Majesty, my uncle gave me this sword. It has nothing to do with me!"

The man from Chenliu showed a hint of regret and continued, "So quick to distance yourself from the one who raised you for over a decade? In this, you’re nothing like your father—nor in looks. If not for this sword, I would never have recognized you."

He went on, "Twenty-one years ago, during the Chen-Mo conflict, I personally led the troops. I walked into an ambush. I don’t know who betrayed my identity as prince, but an assassin came, wielding this very sword. The sword itself was ordinary, but it was coated with one of the Three Deadliest Poisons—Immortal’s Severance. I was struck in the hand, but fortunately discovered the poison in time, cut out the flesh myself, and survived."

As he spoke, the man from Chenliu rolled up his sleeve to show the scar on his arm from the day he cut out the poisoned flesh. Whether it was a casual gesture or a deliberate display of his own courage was unclear.

"Though I killed the assassin, I couldn’t escape the subsequent ambushes. The army was nearly wiped out. I thought my life was forfeit. Then your uncle arrived—Prince Chen, though he came alone. Seeing he was unarmed, I tossed him this short sword. He alone covered the retreat. I wanted to return with reinforcements, but when I came back, I found he had singlehandedly slain thousands of enemy soldiers. From then on, his fame spread across the battlefield—he was said to shake the hearts of armies with a single strike, unmatched under heaven with his staff."

It was from that moment the emperor began to yearn for the mastery of martial arts—one man able to stand against an entire army, carving out his own legend.

"Because of this, I promised him: bring me this sword, and I will grant any request. Even the throne itself I would hand over."

Bold words, but could he truly keep such a promise? Of course, with Zong Chentian’s mastery, he could speak without restraint, even show temper to the emperor. As imperial kin, he was eligible for succession. But Zhang Ling himself was merely a minor third-rank warrior; such words would be courting death.

Zhang Ling cupped his hands and said, "I dare not ask for such things. I only hope to preserve my life in the capital."

The man from Chenliu found himself appreciating this youth, who knew when to advance and retreat, fully aware that his father had made countless enemies at Jin Yucheng, and wisely sought only modest safety.

Returning the sword to its sheath, the emperor said, "Since you’ve made your request, I shall keep this sword."

Zhang Ling felt a sudden emptiness. He’d grown used to that sword, but perhaps it was time for a better one.

The emperor asked, "Do you know Zong Chentian’s true identity?"

Zhang Ling replied, "I’ve heard he was the son of a deceased prince, lost during a royal tour, later found by General Zhang Mingze, who helped him earn his honors and posthumously named him Prince Chen."

The man from Chenliu said, "That’s the common tale. He is indeed of royal blood, but not the son of a prince. He came from the House of Zong."

This piqued Zhang Ling’s curiosity. He hadn’t expected that stone-faced man to have such a tangled history. Was this why a 'House of Zong' was left behind in Luochuan? He ventured, "The House of Zong that was wiped out overnight?"

The emperor nodded. "He is the son of Zong Huan, head of the house. Zong Huan achieved much in his lifetime. The previous emperor even betrothed the eldest princess to him, making Zong Chentian, by blood, my cousin. For his safety, his true identity was concealed."

At this, the emperor’s tone turned bitter. "But his temper is foul. When the late emperor conferred him the title of prince in this very hall, he simply walked out without a word. In all of Chen, only the general’s orders could move him. When I was ambushed, it was the general who compelled him to guard me; otherwise, he would have stood by, arms folded."

Such a difficult Zong Chentian! Zhang Ling had experienced that infamous temper himself. Alas, without the strength to shake armies, he had no right to be so arrogant.

The great general had spent his life in battle, amassing countless merits. The army’s discipline was legendary. His greatest achievements were the 'one to seize and two to reclaim'—Chen’s forces were once routed, but through Zhang Mingze’s victory at Hongyun Prefecture, he was appointed Grand General, retook the lost provinces of Yangsha and Hezhou, and became a household name. His merit overshadowed even the throne, but fortunately, the late emperor bore no jealousy and granted him full command. Sadly, peace did not last. Chen remained weak, and when Mo invaded, the general and his wife went to the front. At the Battle of Luping Valley, a sudden landslide wiped out both armies. Thus, the two nations have been at peace since.

The emperor sighed. "I once thought to bring you into the palace as a consort, to fulfill my debt to the general, but Zong Chentian took you away long before."

Zhang Ling felt both regret and relief. If he’d never learned of martial masters and the wonders of the world beyond, such a fate would have been acceptable. But now, after pursuing the martial path, to be a royal son-in-law? How could he live so freely then?

He hurriedly declined, "Your Majesty’s favor is too great, but I grew up in the wilds, unworthy of the princess. I beg Your Majesty to withdraw the decree."

The man from Chenliu pointed at Zhang Ling’s forehead and mocked, "You really know how to flatter yourself. If you were as worthy as your father, I might consider it. But with your sly looks, I’d worry you’d use any post for personal gain and to line your own pockets."