novelraw Chapter 83 : Sutra of Yin-binding and Life-sealing, a Comfort to the Princess Consort
Chapter 83 : Sutra of Yin-binding and Life-sealing, a Comfort to the Princess Consort
Chapter 83: Sutra of Yin-binding and Life-sealing, a Comfort to the Princess Consort
“Were those truly Lord Wei’s original words?”
Inside the study of the Demon Suppression Prince’s Mansion, blue smoke curled from the bronze beast-headed incense burner. Shen Jingxiao raised a cup of fragrant tea, asking unhurriedly.
Ran Yi stood before the bookshelf, her black gown embroidered with lotus blossoms, accentuating her lush, graceful figure. She covered her lips with a light laugh. “Those were indeed Lord Wei’s very words. Thanks to the Heir’s favor, I even had the fortune to share a meal with that high and mighty eunuch.”
Shen Jingxiao’s gaze remained calm as he rubbed the rim of his teacup, his eyes turning toward the window. “If His Majesty truly harbored such intentions, there would be no need for him to send a reminder. I have followed him since the days when he was but the unremarkable Sixth Prince, watching him ascend to the imperial throne. No one understands His Majesty’s heart better than I.”
Ran Yi fell silent.
That was not a topic she could afford to speak on.
Shen Jingxiao turned his gaze toward her. “Shen Yanzhou treats you quite well. Fearing you might be punished, he even took you to the headquarters of the Chilin Guards, where you heard many things you should not have heard.”
A chill ran through Ran Yi’s heart, though her face still carried a charming and docile smile. “The Heir is a clever man, but his clumsy attempts to win people’s hearts cannot deceive you, My Lord.”
Shen Jingxiao gave no reply. He turned his back to her, his expression unreadable.
“You have served by my side for eighteen years now, haven’t you?” he suddenly asked.
Ran Yi answered softly, “By the time the Great Heat passes, it will have been eighteen years, My Lord.”
Shen Jingxiao sighed. “I still remember the first time I saw you outside Hantian Commandery. Your face was yellow and thin, a signboard hanging from your neck as you sold yourself among the refugees. Among the crowd, only you had the courage to block my carriage. You wanted to join the army, to fill your stomach, to bury your grandmother...”
At his words, Ran Yi’s thoughts seemed to drift back eighteen years. Hantian Commandery had been struck by a once-in-decades drought. The fields bore no grain, not a hint of green in sight; even tree roots from barren hills were dug up for food. Cases of parents eating their children were no rarity.
She could no longer recall the faces of her parents—only that she had two younger brothers, both starved to death. Wild dogs gnawed their remains until not even bones were left. Later, those dogs were eaten by the villagers. She had been given a piece of that meat—but she hadn’t eaten it.
Her parents hadn’t either, and starved to death soon after.
Her grandmother did eat, and took her northward, hoping to find a city large enough to beg for food.
They had heard that nobles there feasted amid wine pools and meat forests, food so plentiful that the granaries overflowed. Even a scrap fallen from their fingernails could feed the two of them for days.
But her grandmother never found that city. She starved to death on the road.
The girl did not die. Despite her frail age, her will was astonishing. She learned from passing refugees that the Demon Suppression Army had won a great victory and would soon return. So she waited along the road, determined to enlist.
“At that time, there were thousands of children in the Death Convict Camp. In the end, only four of you survived.”
“I granted each of you the true souls and blood essence of ancient ferocious beasts, to forge your bodies and establish your foundations. I bestowed upon you techniques, status, wealth, and honor beyond measure…” Shen Jingxiao’s voice carried a trace of reminiscence.
Ran Yi said nothing.
Those memories—sealed away in dust and blood—were things she wished never to recall.
“Ran Yi, do you hate me?” Shen Jingxiao suddenly turned to look at her.
She froze, then quickly shook her head. “Everything I am today is because of your grace, My Lord. I can only feel gratitude—how could I dare to hate?”
Shen Jingxiao said softly, “Yet each time the Death Curse flares, it’s worse than death itself.”
“Ran Yi is fortunate merely to be alive. What is pain compared to that? Besides, it’s only right—someone of My Lord’s standing must tread carefully every step of the way. Those near you may be trusted, but never completely. That is what you have taught us.”
Her head remained bowed as she spoke.
“Heh… Of the four, you’re the one I like best. I’ve always treated you as my daughter. Your mistakes, your mercy, your hesitation—had it been any of the others, I’d have discarded them long ago.” Shen Jingxiao smiled faintly, though his tone was as cold as frost.
Ran Yi kept her head lowered. “Ran Yi understands. The pain of the Death Curse is what I deserve.”
Shen Jingxiao nodded, seemingly satisfied.
After a moment, he waved his hand. “Go. If Shen Yanzhou tries to sway you, you know what must be done. The Sutra of Yin-binding and Life-sealing you’ve cultivated for so many years should finally serve its purpose.”
Ran Yi’s head shot up, disbelief flickering in her eyes. But Shen Jingxiao merely turned the pages of his book, as if mentioning a trivial matter.
“Yes, My Lord.”
Her gaze dimmed. Beneath her skirt, her slender hands clenched tightly before she finally retreated respectfully.
——
In the Emerald Bamboo Courtyard, Shen Yanzhou was sparring with Chunchao. He held a wooden sword, long hair loose, his plain white robe fluttering, revealing a faint glimpse of his chest. His inky hair swayed with each strike, and his handsome face bore an easy, carefree look.
The maids attending nearby unconsciously stopped what they were doing, their eyes drawn toward him—pure appreciation of beauty, untainted by emotion.
Only occasionally would one flush red, pressing her thighs together without realizing it.
Sword light flared and faded, the sound of clashing wood ringing through the courtyard.
Yu Chenyu reclined sideways on a bamboo mat nearby, her figure graceful and alluring beneath a gauzy robe. A maid peeled fruit for her, handing each piece with care.
Beside her, Lv Ping, whose curves were fuller than Chunchao’s, murmured with admiration, “The Heir’s swordsmanship has grown quite elegant. Though it’s called swordplay, it looks more like a dance.”
Yu Chenyu placed a peeled grape into her rosy lips, which gleamed even more enticingly as she chewed. “If we tossed him into Yatang Pavilion in the eastern part of the city, he’d be the favorite of every noble lady in the capital.”
Lv Ping couldn’t help but smile. The Yatang Pavilion was on par with Yuxian Pavilion across the Vermilion Bird Street River, though its patrons were mostly noblewomen and ladies of rank.
Her eyes sparkled. “The Heir is elegant and peerless. It’s a pity His Majesty has no princess—otherwise, there might even be a royal marriage.”
At that, Yu Chenyu paused, then shook her head, a faint irony flickering in her eyes. Princess?
When there wasn’t even a prince—how could there be a princess?
The Cui Clan of Hejian would never allow Xia Chongming’s position to be shaken.
“Enough, enough! You’re cheating again!”
“How can you always see through my sword moves beforehand?”
The rustling of bamboo leaves accompanied Chunchao’s slightly vexed voice.
“Your movements are too slow. The moment you lift your hand, I already know your stance. You’ll need more practice…”
Shen Yanzhou tapped her head lightly with his wooden sword, then leisurely straightened his robe.
Chunchao began to doubt her life choices. The sword technique she had taught him—how had it ended up defeating her instead?
As a so-called sword prodigy, the blow to her pride was tremendous.
Negative emotions from Chunchao +3 +3 +3…
“Do you even understand what ‘Chaos Perception’ means?”
Shen Yanzhou really wanted to ask Chunchao that question.
Although he could not yet foresee the future, in battle, briefly sensing his opponent’s movements and techniques was not difficult.
Once the embryo of his Primordial Embryo of Chaos grew more complete, this ability of “Chaos Perception” would become stronger as well. At that time, he might truly attain what was called foresight—anticipating every move of the enemy.
“The clan elders in the mansion have already received the news. It seems they’re preparing for something. That ‘true heir’ may return to the mansion any day now.”
Shen Yanzhou walked over to Yu Chenyu’s side, sat down casually, picked up a slice of watermelon that had been cut for him, and took a bite.
“You talk to me in that tone now?” Yu Chenyu glanced at him.
“Seeing Mother so gloomy, I thought I’d bring you some good news.” Shen Yanzhou smiled.
Yu Chenyu gave a soft snort.
“You sent him off to the Southern Border, not knowing how much he suffered there, and now you still dare to grin and gloat beside me? Shen Yanzhou, do you really think my bamboo whip is useless?” she suddenly said coldly.
The few maids nearby instantly turned pale with fright. Even Chunchao and Lv Ping slowed their movements.
The Princess Consort was angry again?
“Have some melon, Mother.” Shen Yanzhou still wore a smile as he offered the piece of watermelon to her.
“Shen Yanzhou, you’ve really grown wings, haven’t you?”
Yu Chenyu felt that she could no longer intimidate him. Her expression darkened, her eyes turning cold—gone was her usual calm and elegant demeanor.
Moreover, this piece of watermelon was one he had already bitten into.
And he dared to hand it to her?
“Please don’t be angry, Mother. I was only joking.”
“Yesterday, I went to the headquarters of the Chilin Guards, and that Wei Gong seemed quite appreciative of me. It looks like he intends to speak well of me before His Majesty—perhaps to secure me a small official post.”
Finishing the watermelon in a few bites, Shen Yanzhou wiped his hands on his robe, gestured for the maids behind Yu Chenyu to step aside, and crouched slightly to massage her shoulders with flattering care.
Her attention was caught by his words, and she lost the mood to be angry. “He means to bring you into the palace to meet His Majesty?”
“Not for now, but perhaps later.”
Shen Yanzhou probed, “Does Mother wish for me to meet His Majesty?”
“Gentler—don’t press so hard.”
Yu Chenyu lifted her wrist and tapped his hand on her shoulder. “Of course it would be best to meet His Majesty. Otherwise, with your current status—illegitimate, unacknowledged—remaining in the capital will only invite gossip.”
Shen Yanzhou eased the strength of his hands. He could feel that his physical strength had increased greatly of late—no wonder his grip had hurt her.
“I care little for such things, nor for gossip. Being able to stay by Mother’s side and attend to you is satisfaction enough,” he said with a smile.
Yu Chenyu shot him a sidelong glance but had other thoughts in her heart.
The Empress’s birthday was approaching. By then, envoys from foreign nations and representatives from immortal sects and noble clans would gather in the capital.
Compared to the stir caused by the issue of the Demon Suppression Prince’s true and false heirs, another piece of even greater news would surely shake the entire Great Qian Dynasty.
The Cui Clan of Hejian had always held a firm grip on the position of Crown Prince, viewing the imperial throne itself as their own future inheritance.
Now, should such an explosive rumor arise, chaos in the capital would be inevitable.
In the past, she had never expected Shen Yanzhou to play any role in such a storm. But now… with his wit and growing strength, he would hardly suffer loss.
“Zhou’er…”
Yu Chenyu’s voice suddenly softened.
Shen Yanzhou immediately understood she was up to something. Still, he leaned closer obediently. “What does Mother wish to command?”
Turning slightly, Yu Chenyu smiled gently. Her words brushed against his ear, warm and damp. “On the Empress’s birthday, I wish to find a gift that is neither vulgar nor common, yet still rare and precious. After much thought, I could only think of one suitable item.”
“But that item is not in the capital, nor can it be obtained through trade or favor. Zhou’er, since you now possess all manner of extraordinary means, could you help Mother retrieve it?”
Shen Yanzhou blinked, surprised that Yu Chenyu wanted him to find something for her.
Setting aside her hidden background within the Path of Communion with the Netherworld of Beiyu, even as the former prospective Sword Keeper of the Sword Lodge in Qilin City of Tianshui, there was nothing in the world she could not obtain.
And she wanted to offer it on the Empress’s birthday?
In the original plot, Yu Chenyu had only made an appearance, presenting some famous sword casually. Soon after, the Empress’s assassination had taken place.
Now, she wanted to prepare a different gift? Could it be for that very assassination?
Indeed, the plot was beginning to diverge drastically.
Various thoughts flashed through Shen Yanzhou’s mind, though he maintained a look of mild puzzlement. “What is it that Mother seeks, and where can it be found?”
“It should be in Floating Sky Temple in Fanzhou—a Seven-colored Monastic Robe. The Empress often worships the Buddha and loves to collect divine relics that contain traces of sacred radiance. If we present this on her birthday, she will surely be pleased,” Yu Chenyu said.
Shen Yanzhou nodded. Fanzhou lay even farther than Yun Prefecture, north of Hidden Moon Mountain. As its name suggested, it was a land steeped in Buddhism, filled with believers and renowned temples—Grand Virtue Temple, Floating Sky Temple, Great Zen Temple, Precious View Temple, and so on.
Many rumors surrounded the Floating Sky Temple, said to be built atop a cliff thousands of fathoms high, suppressing an ancient evil spirit.
If the temple were ever destroyed, the demon would emerge, bringing devastation across a thousand miles.
“Mother, you’re not trying to send me away on purpose, are you? So that when the mansion welcomes back the true heir, the family can have their happy reunion—without me around to disturb it?”
After a moment of silence, Shen Yanzhou fixed his gaze on her.
Yu Chenyu was caught off guard. She had thought his silence meant he was considering the temple’s danger or the difficulty of the task—not that he would ask that.
The question amused and exasperated her, though she could hardly tell him that she had no interest in Shen Tian.
If there was to be a reunion, it would be between Shen Jingxiao and his son, not her.
“Zhou’er, don’t let your mind wander. How could Mother ever send you away on purpose?” Yu Chenyu said gently, her gaze full of tenderness.
Shen Yanzhou, however, looked unconvinced and sighed. “With Mother’s position, if she wanted that Seven-colored Monastic Robe, she need only say the word—the abbot of Floating Sky Temple would surely deliver it with reverence.”
“I’d say this is just an excuse.”
“…” Yu Chenyu felt certain he was doing this deliberately, fishing for some advantage from her.
If that robe were so easily obtained, wouldn’t the Empress’s decree be even more effective?
She rubbed her brow helplessly. “Then what will it take for you to believe me?”
Shen Yanzhou seemed to think for a moment, then said, “A round trip from the capital to Fanzhou takes at least seven days. Not seeing Mother for seven days, this child will surely miss you.”
“Why not let Mother give me something—something that can comfort me while I’m thinking of you?”
Yu Chenyu knew at once he was asking for a reward. She pressed her fingers to her temple. “Go on then—what do you want?”
Shen Yanzhou smiled faintly, then leaned close and whispered his request in her ear.