013—Promise of a Noble (2)

“Younger brother!”

“All of you, leave.” There was no trace of politeness, even when that person addressed someone else’s servants.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Fu Jian stepped forward. “Younger brother, what are you doing here?”

Annoyed, Xuan Cheng replied, “Can’t you see? I’m admiring the flowers.”

He paused. “But what are you doing here? Weren’t you going to return to the Imperial Palace and visit that Empress Dowager Gou?”

Xuan Cheng, suddenly realizing that Fu Jian was only a meter away from him, took a few unnatural steps backwards towards the flower gardens.

“I already met with the Empress Dowager. She said that she wanted to see you, which is why I came here.”

“To invite me?” Xuan Cheng’s tone was unfriendly. Even if he knew that this person was Former Qin’s king, his idol, he was still a bit lacking.

Fu Jian purposefully stepped towards him, smiling as he looked at him. “Are you still angry about those kinds of things?

Xuan Cheng didn’t know what he was talking about, staying silent.

Only to hear Fu Jian lowly sigh.

Xuan Cheng looked askance at him. “What are you sighing about?”

Fu Jian shook his head. “Ai, how old are you now, still having temper tantrums like a child?”

Xuan Cheng looked at him, his eyes hostile. “What are you saying?”

“How can you dare to say that you aren’t? Look at you. We’re all from the same family, and yet you’re so proud and pampered, so headstrong.”

Fu Jian continued to shake his head and sigh. It seemed like he would never finish.

Xuan Cheng, at his wits end, could only sigh and turn away.

Fu Jian grabbed onto his sleeve before he could step away fully. Revealing a sly smile, he said, “Younger Brother, I’ve been speaking drivel.”

Xuan Cheng glared at him.

Fu Jian continued to smile but didn’t speak. Pulling at Xuan Cheng’s sleeve, he began to walk.

“Where are you bringing me?”

What a pity. Xuan Cheng’s weak voice was drowned out by Fu Jian’s brutal pace.

Xuan Cheng grumbled outwardly, but began to ponder. He was definitely being dragged to the emperor’s palace¹, to meet with Empress Dowager Gou.

But he hadn’t expected to be dragged to one of the pavilions inside of the palace grounds.

That pavilion was neither too tall or too low. In total, there were two stories, with the bottom floor being empty. Around the pavilion was an assortment of flowers and grasses.

It was the time of the year when the flowers were beginning to bloom. Xuan Cheng looked around, noticing an assortment of multifloras almost hidden by the building exterior. They had all fully blossomed, creating an eye-provoking sight.

“How did the multifloras bloom here?”

He furrowed his brows, turning around to look at Fu Jian’s face. However, there still that same insipid smile from before.

A man had appeared out of nowhere. He was kneeling in front of Fu Jian, his head lowered deferentially.

Fu Jian instructed him, “Come, bring some wine over.”

“Wine?” Xuan Cheng’s mouth fell open.

Fu Jian dragged him to the second floor of the pavilion. Leaning against the railing, he said, “Younger brother, did you know? Before, you always invited me here to drink wine with me. I still remember that year, when I ascended onto the throne. The night of that event, you dragged me to this pavilion. But then you drank yourself into a stupor, and I had to carry you back.”

Xuan Cheng’s face flushed red. “This kind of stuff was from long ago.”

He couldn’t admit that he didn’t know what was being said, so he could only pretend that he was unwilling to talk about it.

Fu Jian was most likely speaking about the year when they murdered Fu Sheng. When they usurped the throne, although it had been a victory, the path they had travelled had been one of bloody light and great calamity. Furthermore, the one who had died was still one of the Fu family. It would make sense that the two brothers would vent out their frustrations through alcohol.

Like the proverbs said, wine did not intoxicate people but people intoxicated themselves. There was no such thing as getting drunk from wine, but there was always a yearning to drain one’s thoughts from the frustrations that they suffered through.

The servants brought the wine forward, presenting with it two ordinary copper wine cups that had been carved into intricate patterns. Xuan Cheng stared blankly for a moment, before finally sitting down.

The scenery around them was pleasing to look at. All around were carved wooden tables and benches. Even the walls of the pavilion had been engraved with all kinds of drawings, from flowers and birds to Confucian scholars.

Xuan Cheng knew that as a scholar, Fu Jian’s rule had implemented Confucianism throughout his entire kingdom. Pictures of children studying carved onto the walls was considered ordinary.

From his view on the stone bench, he could see the sprawling scenery all around him. At the very edge of his vision, he could faintly discern a corner of a palace.

“That building is the Imperial Palace, right?” Xuan Cheng asked, bewildered.

Fu Jian nodded. This time, he didn’t seem to sense anything askew.

So what Fu Rong said was correct.

“That’s the Imperial Palace, where I live. That’s the Ganquan Court, the Weiyang Court, and also the Jianzhang Court.”

Xuan Cheng absent-mindedly nodded his head.

Fu Jian poured him a cup of rice wine. As the alcohol began to settle into his system, Xuan Cheng’s heart also began to weigh down.

He didn’t know where he was. At his side was only one person.

This person was his older brother. But was he really?

¹A pun. The “emperor’s palace” can also be used to refer to prison or any place where a person doesn’t desire to go.