TIGR Chapter 123

The Imperial Guard’s Revenge

Chapter 123 Going South

Once summer began, good news came frequently from the southeast coast. In the fourth month, reports were sent from Fujian and Zhejiang. Zhu Wan led troops from Haimen, advancing to capture the pirate stronghold in the Shuangyu Harbor, taking Japanese leader Ji Tian and pirate Xu Dong.

In his report, Zhu Wan wrote that Xu Dong was originally a citizen of the Ming Dynasty who colluded with the Japanese pirates to smuggle goods. He gathered a group of vagrants and occupied the Shuangyu, building a large two-masted ship to transport prohibited goods. Xu Dong even armed the ships with firearms and would fire on the imperial army if they approached, refusing to stop for inspections. Xu Dong built his own ships and provided harbor services to foreign vessels. The people coming and going on the island spoke Japanese and western languages, clearly establishing a sort of independent kingdom.

The Ming Dynasty had a maritime ban, and Xu Dong’s actions not only violated the ban but openly challenged the authority of the imperial army. The emperor granted Zhu Wan’s request to publicly behead Ji Tian and Xu Dong at the market and fortify Shuangyu, inspecting incoming ships and blocking Japanese pirates.

After the great victory at the Shuangyu Harbor, reports continued to flow in, telling of small and big triumphs. Zhu Wan requested authorization to attack the pirates in Wen, Pan, and Nanji, mobilizing troops from central Zhejiang. After three months of continuous fighting, he reported the enemy had been greatly defeated and the miners in Chuzhou were pacified. In the ninth month, Zhu Wan reported that westerners had raided Zhao’an. He captured three Frankish leaders and one Japanese leader, along with ninety-six pirates who had led outsiders, executing them all in the market.

The term Franks was used by the Ming Dynasty to refer to westerners. These people had blonde hair and blue eyes, with high brows and deep-set eyes, and looked completely different from the people of the Central Plains. In his report, Zhu Wan heavily criticized the coastal areas for having internal traitors. When he executed the Franks, many powerful families intervened on behalf of the westerners, and even many officials became involved as mediators.

Zhu Wan even pointed his accusations directly at the local government, claiming that local powerhouses were colluding with the Japanese pirates to smuggle goods, acquiring large amounts of wealth, and sending it from Fujian and Zhejiang to officials in the capital, asking them to cover it up. This was why the coastal pirates were difficult to eliminate. The chaos of the Japanese pirates was, in fact, an internal crisis.

Zhu Wan’s report was like a stone thrown into a lake, causing ripples to spread far and wide. Jiangsu and Zhejiang were major provinces for the imperial examination, with more than half of the country’s successful candidates coming from the southeast. As if it was coordinated, soon a wave of impeachment memorials from the capital and from Zhejiang and Fujian flooded in, drowning out Zhu Wan’s battle reports.

Local imperial censors, inspectors, and magistrates all reported that Zhu Wan was excessively seeking credit, exaggerating his achievements, and falsely reporting military situations. He inflated his victories, hid the deaths of Ming soldiers, and only reported wins while suppressing losses. Furthermore, when he conducted the campaign against Shuangyu, he had already written a memorial claiming great victory before he had even captured the harbor. In reality, it was only three days later that the navy finally landed in Shuangyu.

In the capital, censors also impeached Zhu Wan for executing people without authorization. After all, the Frankish people were foreigners, and Zhu Wan had beheaded them without consulting the court, which was seen as contempt for the court and an abuse of power.

There were all kinds of opinions at the time, and the emperor’s court was flooded with impeachment memorials. Few voices spoke in Zhu Wan’s defense, and he was the only one passionately defending himself. Public opinion was overwhelmingly against him, and the emperor could not tell whether Zhu Wan was fabricating military reports or that the officials in Zhejiang and Fujian simply disliked him. The emperor could only temporarily remove Zhu Wan from his post and ordered Du Ruzhen, a military official to go to Zhao’an for an investigation and inquiry.

At the end of the year, Du Ruzhen returned and reported that the incident in Zhao’an was merely a misunderstanding involving small vendors, who had somehow been accused by Zhu Wan of colluding with the Japanese pirates. Anyone Zhu Wan deemed to be involved with the pirates, no matter the reason, was executed. The vendors refused to surrender, angering Zhu Wan, but they had never committed robbery, and the Franks were entirely victims of mistaken execution.

This confirmed Zhu Wan’s unauthorized killings. Zhu Wan fabricated the story regarding the Franks, and it was likely that the execution of the ninety-six pirates, as well as his earlier victories against the Japanese pirates, were all false.

With the evidence before him, the emperor immediately issued an edict to arrest Zhu Wan and bring him to the capital for trial. However, when the imperial envoy returned, they came back empty-handed, only bringing the news of Zhu Wan’s death. They reported that Zhu Wan, fearing punishment, had already committed suicide.

The bureaucrats that once worked with Zhu Wan submitted memorials, exposing many of his wrongdoings during his time as military governor. The situation seemed clear, Zhu Wan was greedy for achievements, stubborn, and eliminated his rivals. When the emperor heard of Zhu Wan’s death, he didn’t say much, but the army could not be without a commander for a single day. The war against the Japanese pirates was still ongoing, and the hard-won victory could not be abandoned midway. The emperor asked who could take on the task, and in the end, officials recommended Zhang Jin, the Minister of War from Nanjing, to be the new military governor.

Zhu Wan had been rash, and many things would need to be cleaned up after the change of commander. However, the situation along the coast came to a stalemate. The pirates, who previously disbanded, began to reappear, and despite the court spending several million taels of silver, the Japanese pirates still couldn’t be defeated.

After the Dragon Boat Festival, summer days grew longer, and the evening breeze became gentle and serene. The sound of cicadas rose and fell in the green shade. Lu Heng returned home only after dark. Wang Yanqing had the maid prepare a meal, and she personally helped Lu Heng out of his flying fish robe, saying: “The days are getting hotter, and you’re still out all day. You should be careful in the heat.”

Today, Wang Yanqing was wearing a soft, pine green smoke gauze long robe. Lu Heng always thought that no one could look good in green, but Wang Yanqing’s figure in this attire was graceful and slender. Her fair skin subtly showed through the green gauze, making her appear even more delicate and fair.

Wang Yanqing helped Lu Heng loosen his robes, and Lu Heng took the opportunity to wrap his arms around her waist, sighing: “Truly, your skin is like icy jade, cool and free of sweat. Nothing is more refreshing than holding my wife.”

Wang Yanqing’s movements were momentarily restrained by him. She nudged his arm with her elbow and scolded playfully: “Stop teasing. Raise your hands and change your clothes.”

Lu Heng glanced at Wang Yanqing, slowly letting go of her waist and raising both of his hands. Wang Yanqing helped him change into his everyday clothes. In the meantime, the evening meal had already been laid out. The two of them were about to sit down to eat when a servant suddenly ran in from outside, stopped in the courtyard, and cupped his hands in greeting: “Supreme Commander, an imperial edict from the palace.”

Lu Heng had no choice but to put down his chopsticks, change back into his court attire, and immediately head to the palace. On the way, he inwardly complained, thinking that the emperor was deliberately preventing him from enjoying his night. However, the emperor had become more and more focused on his spiritual practices in recent years, even abolishing the morning court sessions. It had become rare for officials to see the emperor at all. Being summoned so late likely meant there was an urgent matter at hand.

Lu Heng hurried to the Inner Palace. The emperor no longer resided in the Imperial Palace, instead, he moved to the Inner West Palace. The Inner West Palace was originally a royal garden, filled with rare flowers and exotic plants, artificial mountains and flowing streams, and three expansive lakes. The mist hovering over the water, combined with the smoke swirling inside the palace, gave the place a somewhat otherworldly, celestial palace feel, especially at night.

The gatekeeper saw him and calmly bowed: “Supreme Commander Lu, please follow me.”

Since the incident in Renyin, the emperor no longer trusted the palace attendants, let alone his officials. He simply moved to the Inner West Palace and now personally managed the people around him, no longer adhering to the traditional restrictions placed on rulers throughout history. The emperor even stopped attending the morning court, staying in the Inner West Palace every day, allowing only trusted eunuchs near him. Officials wishing to meet the emperor had to submit a memorial, then wait for the emperor to summon them.

However, it would be a grave mistake to assume the emperor abandoned governance by no longer attending the morning court. The emperor still held a firm grip on the power of state affairs, and with the cancellation of morning court, most officials no longer participated in the political discussions. Only officials in charge of certain matters reported directly to the emperor. As a result, the balance between ruler and officials was completely shattered. Officials distrusted each other and could no longer control the emperor, leading to internal struggles. The emperor withdrew from the game, becoming a judge and a spectator.

Lu Heng was one of the few officials who still had regular contact with the emperor. The eunuch, upon seeing him, did not dare to make things difficult and immediately led Lu Heng to the emperor.

As soon as Lu Heng entered the hall, he was greeted by the scent of medicinal herbs. He remained unfazed, bowed his head, and greeted the figure behind the curtain: “I pay my respects to the emperor.”

The emperor, dressed in a Daoist robe, sat before the alchemy furnace and asked: “What is your opinion on the situation with the Japanese pirates?”

This was a question that could cost him his life. In an instant, Lu Heng’s mind flashed through the events and people of the past period. The Ministry of War was functioning as usual, and Xia Wenjin was busy educating the Second Prince. So the remaining officials in the cabinet came to see the emperor? In the blink of an eye, Lu Heng considered these thoughts. Without showing any sign of hesitation, he quickly replied: “Governor Zhang Jin has been stationed in Nanjing for many years, is familiar with naval affairs, acts cautiously, and loves the people as his own children. With him leading the army, we should soon receive good news of victory.”

In the official world, impeachment was not necessarily a reprimand, and praise was not always good. Lu Heng’s words, seeming to affirm Zhang Jin, actually carried deeper meaning in every sentence.

Zhang Jin was from Jiangsu and Zhejiang, born into poverty, but he found a wealthy father-in-law who funded his path through the imperial examination to become an official. Later, Zhang Jin remained in his hometown, serving as a prefectural magistrate and a vice minister in the Nanjing area. He used his official power to open doors for his father-in-law, following the typical mutual benefit between the imperial examination system and local scholars in the south. When Lu Heng mentioned Zhang Jin’s familiarity with naval affairs, he was actually implying Zhang Jin’s collusion with the local officials and merchants. His claim that Zhang Jin was cautious in his actions subtly indicated that since he took charge of the military, no major pirate groups had been eradicated along the coast. And his statement about soon receiving good news suggested that no victories had been reported so far.

After hearing this, the emperor stood up from in front of the alchemy furnace, walked to the desk, and picked up a memorial: “Just now, Yan Wei entered the palace and brought a memorial. It is said to have made its way to the capital after barely escaping death. Come take a look.”

Lu Heng entered past the curtain, took the memorial, and lowered his gaze to examine it carefully.

The memorial was from Zhao Wenhua, the Vice Minister of War. Zhang Jin was the Minister of War, but he had been stationed in Nanjing, while Zhao Wenhua had traveled from the capital and patrolled the coastal areas of Zhejiang. Lu Heng remembered that he hadn’t seen Zhao Wenhua since the New Years. Zhao Wenhua likely used the guise of going home for the holidays, as a cover for his secret imperial mission to investigate Jiangnan.

That first month, coincidentally, was right after Zhu Wan’s suicide. Although the emperor relieved Zhu Wan of his official duties and ordered his arrest, he had no intention of killing him. However, what was sent back to the capital was the news of Zhu Wan’s death. The emperor made no public remarks about Zhu Wan’s death, but secretly harbored resentment and discreetly sent people to investigate.

Zhao Wenhua had spent nearly half a year on the task, and today he finally returned with a memorial. The memorial stated that only a small portion of the pirates were from Japan, while 80% were locals. They ignored the maritime ban and smuggled trade with foreigners. These so-called pirates were people who had abandoned farming and turned to the sea, acting as intermediaries for the local officials, merchants, and foreigners in Zhejiang and Fujian. The imperial court had a maritime ban, but in order to cover up the truth, coastal officials collectively referred to these people as Japanese pirates. They used the name of the Japanese to disguise the illegal trade taking place behind the scenes.

Maritime trade generated enormous profits every year, and without the court’s oversight, the money flowed directly into the pockets of local officials and bureaucrats. The issue of the so-called Japanese pirates was deeply intertwined, with many officials’ families either directly or indirectly involved with the pirates. The southeastern naval efforts to suppress the pirates were essentially half-hearted. Even before the battles began, officials would tip off the pirates. How could the Japanese pirates be eradicated this way?

Zhang Jin, chosen by the local officials, had no intention of actually dealing with the pirates. He protected them and avoided fighting, consuming the court’s military resources but just staged battles for appearances.

Zhao Wenhua also mentioned in the memorial that Zhu Wan, the previous governor, had been strict in enforcing the coastal defense after arriving in Zhejiang. He implemented the Baojia system, vigorously rectified the coastal defense, and upheld the maritime ban, which made him unpopular with the local officials. After Zhu Wan succeeded in eradicating many pirates and destroying several pirate strongholds, he finally angered the local government groups. They, along with officials from the capital’s Zhejiang and Fujian factions, joined forces to impeach him.

|| Baojia (保甲) System was used to create group units and enforce collective responsibility.

According to Zhao Wenhua, when Du Ruzhen went to Zhao’an to inspect, he was bribed by local officials, who distorted the truth. They falsely claimed that the pirates, armed with firearms and fighting the imperial army, were merely small vendors resisting arrest, and that the foreign traders were killed by mistake. Zhu Wan didn’t commit suicide out of guilt but was actually forced to his death by local powers.

In the latter part of his secret memorial, Zhao Wenhua harshly criticized Zhang Jin. He said that despite his repeated urging to launch an attack, Zhang Jin always claimed that the timing wasn’t right, allowing pirates to repeatedly pillage villages along the coast. By the time the officials arrived, the pirates would have already fled by sea, freely moving in and out of the unenforced ports.

During his secret investigation in Jiangnan, Zhao Wenhua narrowly escaped several attempts on his life. By the time he wrote this memorial, Zhang Jin and his associates were already aware. Zhao Wenhua warned the emperor that Zhang Jin and the others would find a way to get rid of him, just as they had done with Zhu Wan. In a few days, the frontlines would likely report a major victory, aimed at proving that Zhao Wenhua’s accusations against Zhang Jin were false, undermining morale, and ultimately leading to Zhao Wenhua’s death.

Lu Heng quickly finished reading the memorial, but he didn’t immediately look up. Instead, he used the action of examining the memorial to speculate on the emperor’s thoughts.

This secret memorial was intricate and packed with information. Zhao Wenhua claimed that Zhang Jin was protecting the pirates rather than fighting them, even predicting that Zhang Jin would stage a show of victory for the emperor. Interestingly, this memorial was delivered by Yan Wei.

Zhao Wenhua must have had support to risk traveling alone to Jiangnan. It was said that Zhao Wenhua and Yan Wei’s son, Yan Qinglou, were close, and now it seemed that the information wasn’t wrong. The emperor, who had even been avoiding morning court sessions, urgently summoned Lu Heng to the palace tonight during his alchemy session. The emperor clearly took this matter very seriously. Moreover, the fact that the emperor had called Lu Heng in, might suggest that the emperor didn’t fully trust Yan Wei and was uncertain about who was telling the truth.

Lu Heng understood the situation. He folded the memorial and presented it back to the emperor, saying: “Vice Minister Zhao’s statements are wide-ranging, and I do not know the inner details, so I dare not speak rashly. However, since Governor Zhu took office, he has frequently executed Japanese pirates and would never have any intentions of colluding with the enemy. His character is strong and resolute, and he detests evil. Sometimes his actions may seem extreme, but his tendency to report only victories and not setbacks… is understandable. His only mistake was the premature false report of victory. It’s possible that Governor Zhu had complete confidence in his tactics and, having surrounded the pirates, was already sure of their complete annihilation.”

Lu Heng’s words undoubtedly struck a chord with the emperor. Even if Zhu Wan had made mistakes, his accomplishments could not be overshadowed. Who, in a military command, only reported defeats and never victories? If the emperor grew weary of hearing only bad news, he might strip him of his military authority altogether.

The emperor had ordered Zhu Wan to be escorted back to the capital but had no intention of killing him. Unfortunately, Zhu Wan’s temperament was too stubborn, and he ended his life on his own terms.

But this was just the local perspective. Zhao Wenhua had only gone to Jiangnan after Zhu Wan’s death, relying on others for information. There was no guarantee of the true circumstances of Zhu Wan’s death.

The emperor then asked: “So, do you think his claims about Zhang Jin are all true?”

Zhang Jin represented a whole network of interests behind him, and Lu Heng did not rush to make a conclusion. Instead, he said: “I have never met Governor Zhang, so I am not able to comment. However, since Zhao Wenhua dared to claim in his memorial that Governor Zhang is colluding both internally and externally, it might be better to wait a few more days and see if the frontlines report any victories.”

This suggestion aligned with the emperor’s own thoughts. The emperor made up his mind and slammed the memorial heavily onto the desk: “Good, I also want to see who’s been really betraying us from within.”

·

Halfway through their meal, Lu Heng was suddenly called to the palace. Wang Yanqing had someone warm up the food and waited for Lu Heng under the lamp. At a later hour, Lu Heng finally returned. Wang Yanqing secretly sighed in relief and went to the door to greet him.

She noticed that Lu Heng’s expression was cold, devoid of any smile, and when he changed clothes, he seemed deep in thought. Wang Yanqing sensed that something significant had happened in the court. She quickly tidied up the clothes and, once they were comfortably seated, asked: “What happened?”

Lu Heng sighed. After being tense all day, it was only when he returned to her side that he could truly relax. He held Wang Yanqing and said: “The southeastern battlefield is about to change drastically.”

Wang Yanqing immediately asked: “Are the Japanese pirates are causing trouble again?”

At first, when the campaign against the pirates began, everyone thought little of it. After all, they were just pirates, how much of a threat could they be? However, once the battle started, the situation stalemated. The coastal frontlines seemed like a bottomless pit, with silver flowing from the national treasury without any return.

Lu Heng sighed: “It’s not the pirates. It’s an internal problem.”

Wang Yanqing froze, incredulously asking: “Are you saying there are officials on the coast colluding with the enemy?”

“Colluding with the enemy is one thing.” Lu Heng replied with a faint smile, his eyes glinting coldly. “But in my opinion, the real troublemakers have always been insiders.”

Wang Yanqing blinked, not understanding Lu Heng’s meaning. Since Zhao Wenhua’s memorial was confidential, Lu Heng didn’t reveal too much to her. Instead, he said: “Let’s wait and see. We’ll know in a few days whether the frontlines will report a great victory. If they do, then we have a serious problem.”

The soldiers were thousands of miles away, yet some officials in the court already knew the outcome of the upcoming battle… Wang Yanqing quietly took a sharp breath, her entire body shivering.

In her early years in the Fu family, she thought the court and the inner chambers were truly places that devoured people without leaving a trace. Women’s power struggles were ruthless, and killing was done without bloodshed. But now, Wang Yanqing realized that compared to the power struggles of men, the petty infighting among women, whether in the household or the palace, was nothing.

When men fought, it was truly bloody and brutal, full of bones. Every success and failure resulted in countless lives and the blood of several families.

Discussing such matters late at night was certainly a mood killer. Wang Yanqing grasped Lu Heng’s hand and said: “No matter how complicated court affairs are, they’re still matters for tomorrow. You haven’t eaten yet. Let’s eat first.”

Lu Heng didn’t want to let the matters of those people disturb his time alone with his wife. He nodded, then suddenly remembered something: “Have you eaten yet?”

Wang Yanqing shook her head: “I wasn’t hungry alone, so I decided to wait for you to come back and eat together. The food has been warming on the stove.”

Lu Heng’s expression darkened thinking about the late hour and said: “I came back late. You should have eaten on your own. If I hadn’t come back, would you have waited all night?”

“But you always come back.”

Lu Heng, full of reprimands, couldn’t get the words out. In the end, he resignedly tightened his grip on Wang Yanqing’s hand and helped her to her feet: “Alright, let’s go eat.”

In the following days, Lu Heng began to leave early and return late. Wang Yanqing sensed that something was off in the court and decided not to go out, instead staying at home every day to read and write. Half a month later, the capital entered the rainy season. The rain pattered steadily on the eaves, seeming to be endless and vast.

At this time, a victory report came from the southeastern front. Thousands of Japanese pirates suddenly launched a combined land and water assault on Jiaxing. Zhang Jin sent out three armies to encircle them, and after several days of fierce fighting, the pirates were defeated.

The battle report exaggerated the victory, calling it the most glorious triumph since the campaign against the pirates began. After reading the report, the emperor, unusually, summoned the cabinet members and the six ministries for a secret meeting in the west inner court that lasted for an hour.

What the emperor said during the meeting remained unknown, but when the cabinet members emerged, they were all drenched in sweat, their faces ashen. Soon after, the Marquis of Zhenyuan, Fu Tingzhou, and Marquis of Wuding, Guo Xun, were urgently summoned to the palace. The emperor, dressed in a loose Daoist robe, with an air of gentle indifference, asked: “Which of you has confidence in leading the navy?”

Guo Xun and Fu Tingzhou were confused, but they could sense that the emperor was in a very bad mood. Fu Tingzhou recalled the victory report that had recently arrived in the capital and vaguely suspected that something had gone wrong with the pirates.

Both Guo Xun and Fu Tingzhou came from military families, their ancestors having led troops for generations, but they were stationed in the northwest, focused on land battles. They had little experience with naval warfare. However, fortune favored the bold, and if they didn’t dare to take risks, what were they even doing in the officialdom?

Fu Tingzhou stepped forward, cupped his fists, and said: “I am willing to give it a try.”

Very quickly, word spread in the capital, and the emperor issued an edict to arrest Zhang Jin. He ordered the Marquis of Zhenyuan, Fu Tingzhou, to go to Zhejiang and Fujian to oversee the military operations. The officials, Li Yongjing and Wen Wangyun, petitioned the emperor. They stated that the army had just achieved great victory, and that Zhang Jin had greatly weakened the pirate threat. It was not the right time to replace the commander, and they asked the emperor to revoke his order. Furthermore, even though the Marquis of Zhenyuan was a brilliant strategist, he had only fought on the plains against the Mongols. How could he possibly understand naval warfare?

The emperor’s response was to severely punish Li Yongjing and Wen Wangyun, demote them to commoners, and still send people to arrest Zhang Jin and imprison him.

Many people in the court did not understand why. After just winning a great victory, the emperor suddenly became enraged and decided to replace the commander in the middle of a campaign. Even if the emperor was dissatisfied with Zhang Jin, there were many officials in the court familiar with the Jiangnan waterways. Why then replace him with Fu Tingzhou, a pure northern noble?

In fact, the emperor sent Fu Tingzhou to the southeast specifically because he was a pure northerner. Fu Tingzhou had a strong background, supported by a whole group of northern aristocrats led by Guo Xun. Zhu Wan, born into a humble family with no power or influence, died without anyone to seek justice for him, but Fu Tingzhou was different. No matter the situation in Jiangsu and Zhejiang, the scholars there would not dare to offend Fu Tingzhou.

Despite the fierce infighting among the noble factions, if anyone were to threaten the interests of military officials, these factions would stand united.

To shake a solid interest group, the only solution was to use another faction.

After Fu Tingzhou returned from the Datong battlefield, he was appointed to oversee the troops in the Jiangnan, Jiangbei, Zhejiang, Shandong, Fujian, and Huguang provinces, which immediately drew the attention of the entire court. While the people in the capital were busy watching the ceremonial departure of the Marquis of Zhenyuan, a large ship docked on the Tonghui River, with goods being loaded and unloaded.

It was said that the ship belonged to a wealthy family preparing for their daughter’s wedding. Wealthy families doted on their daughters, and since the young lady was marrying into a prestigious family in Jiangnan, the wealthy family made grand preparations for the wedding, with an incredibly large wedding procession. The attendants were all tall, strong young men, bustling around and loading boxes onto the ship. The bride was dressed in a grand traditional bridal dress, and her dowry was substantial. Red wooden chests were piled one after another, filling half the ship’s hold. The dowry prepared for the wealthy family’s daughter was so extravagant that even such a large ship sat low in the water.

A young servant dressed in plain clothes was counting the dowry items. After finishing, he came out, his eyes sharp and subtly scanning the dock, secretly inspecting the ship’s perimeter before quickly walking into one of the cabins. He cupped his hands in greeting and said: “Supreme Commander, everything has been checked, and there are no suspicious people following us.”

A tall figure was sitting at a table, drinking tea. His face was like a jade mask, his eyes as cold as stars, and he held a teacup in one hand, looking like an elegant scholar straight out of a poem. He took a sip of tea, set the cup down, and slowly said: “Then let’s depart.”

“Yes.” The servant replied, cupping his hands and turning to leave. But the young master stood up and slowly walked toward the servant. The servant stopped and lowered his head, asking: “Do you have any further instructions, Supreme Commander?”

The young man came up beside him, lightly tapping the servant’s shoulder with a folding fan, his voice warm and refined: “Call me Young Master.”

The servant’s expression froze for a moment, his face looking strange. They were, of course, not a real wedding procession, but the members of the Imperial Guards in disguise. The person who had been posing as the servant was actually the pacification envoy, Guo Tao. Guo Tao thought to himself that the Supreme Commander had gotten into character quite quickly. He lowered his eyes, acknowledged the order, and left.

After Guo Tao left, Lu Heng patted his sleeves, planning to go to the back to check on his “younger sister” who was about to get married.

|| Author’s Note:

Lu Heng: “Who would have thought? I’m still capable of taking on a new role.

|| Translator’s Note: I hope you are all doing well! Thank you for your patience and your love. I have started a busy semester, so my hopes are to post once a week. Happy Tuesday, and I wish you all an amazing rest of the week!

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