Chapter Twenty-One: The Recruitment Begins

A sudden drizzle swept away the oppressive heat of summer, leaving the air refreshingly clear. The gloomy sky, however, cast a shadow over one’s mood, bringing an inexplicable sense of melancholy.

Lu Zhishen and Lin Chong would not return to the capital for some time; though their absence was for his own good, Zhao Yu found it hard to be cheerful. He had finally made friends with two heroic men, only to be unable to see them often. How could he be happy?

After learning their hiding place from Shi Qian, Zhao Yu entrusted Shi Qian with three thousand taels of silver, asking him to convey his regards to Lin Chong and to reassure them that, before long, he would bring them safely into the capital.

Amidst the bustle, an incident left Zhao Yu both amused and exasperated: the marriage proposal previously mentioned by Empress Zheng had unexpectedly fallen through. There was no real reason—Zhou Jinglong approached Empress Zheng, declaring that his daughter was unworthy of marrying into the imperial family, unable to bear such fortune, and requested, for fear of delaying Prince Yi’s future, to dissolve the engagement.

What a ridiculous excuse! Empress Zheng was nearly driven to illness by the news and promptly expelled Zhou Jinglong from the palace. It was said the old man was usually adept in affairs, yet no one knew what possessed him this time, daring to offend even the Empress.

When Zhao Yu received the news, he was delighted yet somewhat annoyed. He hailed from the purest royal lineage and was handsome to boot; how could he be unworthy of their daughter? If there was to be a withdrawal, it should have been his decision!

Though his prospects for marriage were thwarted, Zhao Yu’s side ventures thrived. His men had brought more and more gambling houses and brothels under their control; the secondary residence was truly a place where gold flowed in daily. In Bianliang, the name “Little Yu” now commanded respect across all circles; none dared oppose him.

Rumors spread that Little Yu was actually Prince Yi, the emperor’s eighth son. It made sense—such a formidable background could bring even the old scoundrel Grand Commandant Gao to heel.

Human desire knows no bounds. Zhao Yu was planning a new venture that would bring quick profits and please his father, the emperor: a Cuju league, the ancient equivalent of a football tournament, with betting on the side.

His father, Emperor Huizong, had loved the sport in his youth; Gao Qiu had risen to power through it. Zhao Yu had every reason to believe his proposal would be welcomed. Yet arranging betting on the matches involved numerous complications, so Zhao Yu intended to enlist Li Yan.

With Lu Zhishen and Lin Chong gone, Zhao Yu lacked reliable allies and dared not move against Li Yan’s assets lightly. The matter also involved the safe storage of wealth, requiring absolute security.

Too many matters had occupied him lately, and he hadn’t had a chance to sit down with Li Yan. Today, however, he was determined to arrange a meeting.

He sent staff to book a table at the Star Plucking Tower and dispatched an invitation. Just then, Duan Feihe reported that Liu Hei sought an audience.

Liu Hei was another trusted subordinate, aside from Fat Tiger and Song Zhong, a bit older than Zhao Yu and his peers, shrewd and cautious, and one of the few who knew Zhao Yu’s true identity.

Zhao Yu understood that, unless something urgent had arisen, Liu Hei would never come to the prince’s residence. Before long, Liu Hei was brought in by Duan Feihe.

After bowing, Liu Hei spoke directly, “Your Highness, the person you asked for, I have found.”

Zhao Yu was startled for a moment, then rose excitedly, “Where is he? Take me to him!”

Yang Xu, after leaving the Crown Prince’s mansion, truly never returned. Despite Zhao Huan’s awkward attempts to apologize via envoys, Yang Xu had seen through Zhao Huan’s coldness and resolved never to serve him again.

Yang Xu, accustomed to lavish spending and with a family to support, lost all income after resigning from the prince’s service and soon found himself financially stretched. Previously, no ordinary job had interested him, but that left him in a predicament—too qualified for menial work, yet unable to secure a prestigious post.

Wandering the streets, idle and aimless, Yang Xu found a cheap tavern, ordered nothing but a jug of coarse wine, and sat in a corner, drinking alone.

As the wine flowed, Yang Xu’s mood grew more despondent. He had hoped to use his talents in service of the royal house, but fate had betrayed him, leaving him in such dire straits.

“Waiter, bring more wine! Damn it, do you look down on me too?”

Who said scholars could not curse? Even a rabbit bites when cornered!

“Brother Yang, why drink alone without inviting me?”

A voice accompanied the man—Yang Xu looked up to find Zhao Yu smiling before him.

“Prince… Prince Yi!”

Yang Xu was not truly drunk, merely dispirited. Seeing Zhao Yu appear so unexpectedly, he immediately sobered.

“There are no princes here, only Yu,” Zhao Yu said in a low voice, then called out, “Waiter, two pounds of beef and an old jar of wine!”

Yang Xu stared, then managed a bitter smile. “Yu? You really are the prince. Why do you seek me? To laugh at my misfortune?”

Zhao Huan had already reached out to him; how could Zhao Yu not respond in kind? Li Yan had learned from a palace servant that Zhao Huan’s chief advisor had left in a fit of anger.

Once, Zhao Yu might not have cared, but after the incidents with Gao Qiu and Lin Chong, he felt acutely the lack of capable minds at his side and yearned for talented allies.

His circle was full of sycophantic officials, but his secrets required absolute loyalty—something those officials could not provide.

Having learned of Yang Xu’s character and experience, Zhao Yu knew he was the man he needed.

The tavern boy had worried whether Yang Xu could pay, but seeing a young noble arrive, he relaxed and hastily brought dishes and utensils.

Zhao Yu waved the boy away, poured wine for both Yang Xu and himself, then raised his cup. “Regardless of past allegiances, Brother Yang has always been someone I deeply admire. I prefer to speak plainly—today, I hope to invite you to assist me. There’s no need for an immediate answer; the doors of Prince Yi’s residence will always be open to you. Come, a toast!”

With that, Zhao Yu drained his cup in one gulp, making sure Yang Xu saw the bottom.

Yang Xu was no fool—indeed, he was exceptionally shrewd. Because the crown prince opposed Prince Yi, Yang Xu had prepared accordingly.

Empress Zheng favored him, powerful factions like Cai Jing’s backed him in court, and Emperor Huizong’s attitude remained unclear. Considering all factors, the prince before him seemed not unlikely to ascend the throne.

Yet why did this Prince Yi also have the identity of Little Yu? It was a puzzle.

Perhaps sensing Yang Xu’s thoughts, Zhao Yu set down his cup and said quietly, “There’s something you should know in advance—I am not interested in that throne. So whether you help me or not, weigh your decision carefully.”

Hearing this, Yang Xu’s rekindled hopes were instantly extinguished...