Chapter 112: The Mourning Ceremony

The next morning, Zhao Yu, dressed in mourning garb, arrived solemnly outside the palace of Aguda to pay his respects. After all, a proper condolence visit required an appropriate appearance.

Aguda had been killed because of Zhao Yu, yet during his lifetime, Aguda had never invaded the Central Plains. Zhao Yu respected him as a hero, which was why he had donned such heavy mourning attire—to seek some peace of mind for himself.

When Zhao Yu gave his name, the palace guards were somewhat surprised—this fellow was unusually proactive. It was no secret that envoys from the Liao Kingdom came to offer their condolences, but as a state envoy, there was no need to wear such heavy mourning clothes. Even Aguda’s own devoted sons and grandsons didn’t dress as extravagantly as Zhao Yu.

At present, the Jurchen had no new emperor; the Empress Dowager Tang Kuo ruled over the harem. Yet the Jin dynasty’s palace women held little influence. Upon hearing that envoys from Liao had arrived, Tang Kuo was unsure whether to admit Zhao Yu to pay his respects, so she sent a guard to consult the minister on duty.

Today, the palace official on duty was Wanyan Xieye, known as Bojilüe. Upon hearing the report, his first instinct was to expel Zhao Yu—after all, like Aguda and the others, he loathed the Liao people. But he quickly realized this man was Han Chinese.

“Han Chinese!…” Wanyan Xieye muttered to himself several times before ordering Zhao Yu to be brought into the ancestral hall.

Zhao Yu had arrived too early; the regular council meeting had not yet begun.

“Alas! Your Majesty, why did you have to leave us! Since childhood, I have admired you deeply. My greatest wish was to see you once more. Alas, fate did not grant it. Your passing has left the heavens colorless, the sun and moon dimmed—a grievous loss for all mankind! Ah…”

Zhao Yu never imagined his tear ducts could be so prolific; as soon as he focused, his tears flowed like a fountain, unstoppable.

According to protocol, a servant would announce the visitor’s name so everyone would know who had come.

But Zhao Yu’s actions were so sudden that just as the servant opened his mouth, Zhao Yu burst into sobs.

The servant stood there with his mouth agape, nearly dropping the ceremonial hook.

Without the announcement, no one knew who was crying. After so many days, the devoted sons and grandsons and palace concubines had long since dried their tears. Those kneeling here were merely going through the motions.

Zhao Yu’s sudden wailing stunned everyone. They wondered if he might be Aguda’s illegitimate son; otherwise, how could he be more heartbroken than even the closest kin?

Listening to Zhao Yu’s heart-wrenching cries, many concubines could not help but quietly weep again.

Wanyan Xieye rushed over and was unexpectedly moved by Zhao Yu’s display. He quickly ordered someone to help the young man, who was still pounding the ground in grief.

“Prince of Song, please control your sorrow. The deceased has passed on. Crying like this will harm your health.”

“Wh-who is this lord?” Zhao Yu, overwhelmed by his role, could not immediately compose himself. His tear-filled eyes looked up at Wanyan Xieye.

A servant hurriedly introduced, “This is Lord Bojilüe, Xieye.”

“Ah, Lord Bojilüe, I offer my respects,” Zhao Yu said, finally regaining his composure.

“Your heartfelt grief is deeply moving and admirable. Come, let us speak here.”

Wanyan Xieye rarely showed such kindness to Han Chinese, but Zhao Yu’s attire, performance, and identity earned him a favorable impression.

“Thank you, Lord Xieye.”

As he spoke, Zhao Yu could not help but glance back longingly at Aguda’s ceremonial tomb.

“Brother Aguda, though it was I who caused your death, I have never cried like this for anyone else. After all, I am a traveler through time. This mourning is the least I can do for you…”

Even as Zhao Yu left with Wanyan Xieye, Aguda’s concubines whispered among themselves, “Who is this man?”

In a side chamber, Wanyan Xieye ordered tea to be served to Zhao Yu, then spoke leisurely, “I hear that Prince of Song accomplished much in Youzhou. I suppose you never expected the Liao emperor to send you here?”

Zhao Yu sighed faintly. “I had intended my heart to be as clear as the bright moon, but alas, the moonlight shines on a gutter. I can only say that fate is unpredictable. Many things do not go as one wishes.”

When one takes a liking to another, no matter what they do seems right. Wanyan Xieye now viewed Zhao Yu quite favorably.

“What are your thoughts on the future war between Jin and Liao?”

“Heh! Lord Bojilüe, you put me in a difficult position. With the bravery of the Jurchen cavalry, not only can Liao be destroyed, even Song could be suppressed. But then what? How many empires in history, strong for a time, have ended as fleeting as a blooming flower? Therefore, I believe that while strengthening military might, Jin must also focus on cultivating its foundations.”

“Oh? What do you mean by foundations?”

“That encompasses many things—culture, politics, military affairs, and so forth.”

“Are you deliberately trying to delay things for the Khitan?”

At this, Wanyan Xieye’s eyes flashed sharply, fixing Zhao Yu with a piercing gaze.

Zhao Yu, however, remained unshaken, calmly replying, “Do you really think I have that much power?”

“Ha! Fair enough. Young man, have you thought about the possibility of never returning?”

Wanyan Xieye smiled, his eyes once more as sharp as needles.

“Those who abandon me are people of the past. Whether Song or Khitan, they mean nothing to me now.”

“Well said. Then, Prince of Song, would you be willing to serve as an official in Jin?”

At that moment, Wanyan Xiyin, Wanyan Zonghan, Wanyan Zonggan, and other Jurchen nobles entered from outside the hall. Judging by their expressions, they had been eavesdropping for some time.

“I… I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Zhao Yu said cautiously. On the way here, he had already considered every possibility, including being detained under the guise of an official.

“What do you think, Xieye?”

“Heh! Our Jin has no royal titles to bestow upon him. But, since both Song and Khitan have the post of Deputy Prime Minister, let’s appoint this young man as Jin’s first Deputy Prime Minister!”

The Jurchen barbarians knew nothing. The post of Deputy Prime Minister was only effective if combined with other offices, and once appointed, it was equivalent to prime minister. Have you ever seen someone my age become prime minister?

Wanyan Xiyin looked at Zhao Yu and smiled, “The title is not important. What matters is that you must first clear your name.”

Though Zhao Yu understood what Wanyan Xiyin implied, he could not help but ask, “What suspicion?”

“Young man, don’t try to be clever. With your intelligence, you must know why the Khitan emperor sent you here. To be honest, I don’t believe the rumors that frame you, but you must prove your innocence. I hear you cried deeply for the late emperor. Here’s the deal: if you fail to solve the case, you will accompany our late emperor in death!”

At this moment, the seemingly benevolent Wanyan Xiyin appeared to Zhao Yu as a venomous snake, its red tongue flicking out, filling him with a chill down his spine.

“My lord, as far as I know, the Jin emperor’s funeral is in just a few days. I have only just arrived in Huining and have yet to establish my footing. You want me to solve a case now? You might as well kill me outright.”

Zhao Yu knew that at this point, words were futile. It was better to be resolute; at least then he would not be underestimated.

After Zhao Yu finished speaking, Wanyan Xiyin revealed a devilish smile once more and said, “How else can we demonstrate the prince’s uniqueness?”