Chapter Twelve: The Dispute
Liu Ji stood up, clasped his fists and said, “Since Brother Han’s ambitions soar like a swan and you are determined to leave, I will not insist. If you need my help in the future, you only have to ask.”
Han Feng returned the gesture. “Thank you, Brother Liu.”
After that, Liu Ji, Han Feng, and the rest of their party left the tavern. Outside, the two exchanged another respectful bow, and then Han Feng turned away, waving as he gradually disappeared into the distance.
Watching Han Feng’s departing figure, Liu Ji suddenly sighed.
Beside him, Xiaoya asked curiously, “Young master, why are you sighing for no reason?”
Liu Ji let out a long, mournful sigh. “A beggar who cannot even afford a meal still harbors such lofty dreams, yet I, the heir of the Prince of Zhen’nan, continue to lead a life of decadent indulgence.”
He sighed again. “I truly envy those who strive for their ideals. He was right—without dreams, what difference is there between us and salted fish?”
Xiaoya pouted. “Young master, so you do know your way of life is decadent? If you’d realized sooner, your reputation wouldn’t be what it is now!”
“Yes, indeed,” Liu Ji nodded. “Unlike Brother Han, who remains steadfast even in poverty, I have lost my ideals amidst a life of carefree dissipation. Gains always come with losses.”
Suddenly, he shook his head. “Ah, enough of this. I must hurry to Spring Night Pavilion to see my lovely Xiao Li. If I’m late, she’ll be angry.”
With that, he clasped his hands behind his back and walked away, leaving behind a faint, melancholic sigh: “Ah, what a tedious life, what monotonous days!”
Xiaoya stared after Liu Ji, dumbfounded. She had thought her young master had finally awakened to his circumstances, but now it seemed she was merely overthinking it.
The young master truly seemed to revel in his decadent lifestyle.
When night fell, after spending the whole day wandering Southern King City, Liu Ji and his attendants finally returned to the princely residence. Liu Ji went straight to find Liu Heng.
...
In the western district of Southern King City stood a residence, its dim lights scattered here and there, casting an exceptionally tranquil air. Two lanterns hung above the doorway.
A signboard bore the inscription: “Mu Residence.”
Inside a study, a middle-aged man with hair streaked in black and white sat behind his desk, meticulously handling paperwork. He was the master of the house, Mu Zhen.
Suddenly, the door to the study opened, and in walked a beautiful woman clad in white. Her long, lustrous hair cascaded over her back, and her well-developed figure was accentuated by the loose white robe she wore. Yet her lovely face was as cold and distant as an icy peak.
She was, of course, Mu Wanjun.
She asked, “Father, you sent for me?”
Mu Zhen did not even look up. “I heard from the servants you’ve spent the entire day sequestered in your room cultivating? You haven’t stepped outside the Mu Residence?”
“I haven’t,” she replied.
“Why didn’t you go see the heir of the Liu family?”
“Why should I?”
“Because he is your future husband.”
“I have never agreed to that!”
“Nonsense!” Mu Zhen slammed the desk with such force that the brush in his hand was pulverized to dust. He fixed Mu Wanjun with a penetrating gaze.
He spoke coldly, “You are not a child anymore. How can you still be so clueless? Do you understand our family’s current predicament?”
“I do!” Mu Wanjun met her father’s eyes. “We were already forced to flee once before. If necessary, we can do it again. At worst, we’ll just leave Southern King City!”
Mu Zhen shot to his feet and strode over to her, his steps powerful as a tiger’s. He slapped Mu Wanjun hard across the face, leaving a red mark and drawing blood from the corner of her mouth.
Yet Mu Wanjun continued to look at him stubbornly.
Mu Zhen said, “Do you think this is all about Southern King City? If our only goal was to settle here, do you think I would marry off my precious daughter? That would be a disgrace to our family!”
Seeing his daughter’s defiant expression, Mu Zhen’s face softened with a hint of pain. He sighed, “You know as well as I do that we fled here so that one day our family might reclaim the legacy of our ancestors!”
His voice was resolute. “I cannot allow the foundation left by our forebears to be destroyed in my hands. I must lead the Mu family to take back what is rightfully ours!”
Mu Wanjun sneered, “So, in the name of reviving your so-called ancestral legacy, to reclaim that seat of power, you would marry your daughter to a useless fool? To a wastrel who knows nothing but luxury and vice?”
She stared at Mu Zhen. “I don’t understand—does that seat truly mean so much to you? Is it really so comfortable?”
Tears welled in her reddened eyes. “My mother died for that seat you talk about, slaughtered before my very eyes, her body never even returned! And where were you then?”
Her words were laden with anguish, and now tears streamed down her face. Anyone listening would be deeply moved.
“Your mother’s death was my fault,” Mu Zhen sighed. But his voice remained firm: “Yet she died for a worthy cause. For the sake of our ancestral legacy, I will pay any price!”
He turned back to her. “Not just your mother—even you, or I, or anyone in the Mu family must be prepared to sacrifice for our forebears. There is no doubt about this!”
At those words, Mu Wanjun let out a brittle laugh and wiped her tears. “So you intend to sell your daughter into another family, hoping to leverage their power to restore our own?”
She looked at Mu Zhen with open mockery. “What a fine father you are.”
“I...” Mu Zhen’s face showed shame as he sighed. “I have no other choice. The Mu family is not what it once was. With our strength alone, we can never accomplish great things—we must rely on Liu Heng and the Prince of Zhen’nan.”
Mu Wanjun scoffed coldly. “I will never marry that useless fool. I can restore the family’s legacy on my own!”
Her words were filled with unwavering determination.
“Nonsense!”
Mu Zhen was trembling with rage. “What is so wrong with Liu Ji? You keep calling him useless. Do you really believe he is nothing but a drunken, debauched scoundrel who frequents brothels and knows nothing of study or virtue?”
Mu Wanjun’s face was full of disdain. “Is he not? For a prince’s heir to be so worthless—do you think I would marry someone like that?”
She spoke with icy pride. “If I am to marry, it will be to a true hero of the world. What makes Liu Ji worthy of me?”
“You are being foolish!” Mu Zhen pleaded. “Have you not thought it through? Who is Liu Ji? And who is his father, Liu Heng?”
He stamped his foot in exasperation. “Liu Heng is the Prince of Zhen’nan, who commands the Southern Tiger Cavalry—one of the five most formidable cavalry forces in the world, which once defeated three hundred thousand soldiers from the Northern Alliance!”
He pointed at Mu Wanjun, his frustration turning to despair. “Do you really think such a man would sit by while his son wasted his life? Do you not know that a tiger does not beget dogs, nor a dragon ordinary offspring?”
Mu Wanjun answered coldly, “Yet the Liu Ji I see is exceedingly incompetent. And as for tigers not begetting dogs—perhaps Liu Ji was dropped on his head in the womb, and that’s why he turned out this way!”
“You know nothing!” Mu Zhen exclaimed. “You think Liu Ji is a fool, and the people of Southern King City think so too, but that is precisely his cleverness. He is deceiving the eyes and ears of the imperial court!”
He snorted. “If he were truly the prodigy you imagine—he would already be dead many times over!”
“So what?” Mu Wanjun’s expression was frosty.
“So what? You still ask ‘so what’? So what, indeed!” Mu Zhen was nearly beside himself. “If you marry Liu Ji, then the Mu family will be irrevocably bound to the Prince of Zhen’nan’s house!”
He continued, “Then, with their power, our family can reclaim our ancient legacy in no time!”
Mu Wanjun’s cold laugh rang out again. “I will never marry Liu Ji. If you want to marry him so badly, why don’t you do it yourself?”
With those words, she turned and walked away.
“You—you—!” Mu Zhen’s body shook with rage as he watched his daughter’s slender figure disappear. In the end, he could only sigh in defeat, sinking wearily into his armchair.
He gazed out at the night sky.
Tonight, the moon was especially bright, scattered with a sprinkling of stars—a night sky like a painting unfurled.
His eyes filled with resolve. “Father, trust me. I will lead our family back to glory! Believe in me—I will make it happen!”
...
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PS: Finally managed to change my state of mind.