Chapter Thirty-Nine: What Lies Within the Heart

Not only Lu Zhishen, but Zhao Yu also sensed something was amiss.

First, Pang Wanchun was captured while seizing the tribute, and now Ruan Xiao’er and Zhang Shun have also appeared because of a certain stone in the tribute cargo. Who could believe there isn’t some connection between these events?

Now Zhang Shun insists the stone is a family heirloom of their chief, but what kind of object could it be, to drive both the Ming Cult and the Jiangnan Canal Gang to such lengths?

Seeing Zhang Shun and Ruan Xiao’er sticking firmly to their claim, Zhao Yu didn’t press further. After entertaining the two with food and drink, he ordered Old Jiang to arrange lodging for them, then returned to the prince’s manor and summoned Yang Xu as well.

Yang Xu now seemed the grand steward of the Prince of Yi’s residence, managing affairs both overt and covert—a single word like “busy” hardly sufficed.

After hearing Zhao Yu and Lu Zhishen’s brief account, Yang Xu frowned and pondered. “I’ve never heard of any treasure surfacing in Jiangnan before, but Your Highness and Master Lu’s analysis is sound. If it weren’t something extremely important, it wouldn’t draw so many figures from the martial world.”

Zhao Yu picked up the thread, saying, “I have a feeling the treasure they seek has already been brought into the capital by Zhu Mian. The escorting party on the road is likely just a trap, and we should watch who else leaps in.”

“By the way, Brother Lu, who is the leader of the Jiangnan Canal Gang?”

To Zhao Yu’s surprise, Lu Zhishen, usually well-informed, shook his head. “If you hadn’t asked, I wouldn’t have noticed. It seems no one ever mentions who the big boss of the Canal Gang is. Such secretive conduct among martial world folk is surely not a good omen.”

Zhao Yu disagreed somewhat, for wasn’t he himself also hiding his identity?

At this thought, a sudden inspiration struck him: Could the Canal Gang’s leader be, like himself, a high official or noble?

“Your Highness, forgive me for speaking plainly, but it’s best you don’t entangle yourself too deeply in these martial world matters,” Yang Xu advised.

“Yang’s right. Though the authorities released Pang Wanchun, if this stone is truly so important, the Ming Cult will still be lurking in the shadows. This affair isn’t suitable for you to get involved in too deeply,” Lu Zhishen unexpectedly sided with Yang Xu.

Zhao Yu replied neutrally, “How should we respond to Ruan Xiao’er and the others? To be honest with you all, my next plan is to set up a branch in Jiangnan!”

In the midst of their puzzled gazes, Zhao Yu began to speak slowly.

“I was born into the royal family, a fact I cannot change. As the eighth prince, I am forever removed from the throne. But I’ll be frank with you, brothers—I do not wish to live a mediocre life.”

“You all know how our Song Dynasty has suffered under the poisons of Cai Jing, Gao Qiu, Liang Shicheng, and their ilk. To call the land ‘scarred and ravaged’ is no exaggeration. The tribute, the land survey, and countless other schemes for extortion have roused the people to fury. Yet this is not the worst: in the north, the Jurchen have risen, and in their clashes with the Khitans, the Khitans have barely been able to resist. One can imagine, once the Jurchen destroy the Khitans, that wolf from the north will certainly turn its gaze upon our Song. When that day comes, beset by internal and external threats, our dynasty will be in grave peril!”

“I know you sometimes can’t understand my actions, but let me explain: everything I do is for the sake of the Han people of the Central Plains.”

“Think, brothers: if things proceed as usual, I will always be a powerless, idle prince. I might muddle through life, but how could I save the people from disaster? Should we rely on the Crown Prince? Ha! That’s why I must seek another path...”

Hearing Zhao Yu’s heartfelt declaration, Yang Xu, Lu Zhishen, and Lin Chong were stunned. None expected such profound ambition from someone so young.

Yang Xu, half a courtier himself, knew well the foul atmosphere of the court. Lu Zhishen, from the martial world, understood the common people’s suffering intimately. Lin Chong was equally familiar with the corruption in the army.

Everyone harbored resentment against the court and its officials, but most went with the flow or escaped from it; none truly thought of resisting or changing things—until this moment.

“Your Highness, are you planning to rebel?” Lin Chong’s question was blunt, hitting at the heart of what both Yang Xu and Lu Zhishen had wanted to ask.

“Rebel? Rebel against whom? You worry too much, second brother. Though my actions may not please my father, I would never commit such treason.”

“Brothers, I have spoken so much today, first to let you know my intentions, and also to hope you will help me. Let us join forces to build a Song Dynasty as strong as the Han or Tang.”

Strictly speaking, Yang Xu was already aboard Zhao Yu’s ship. Lin Chong had loyalty in his heart, but needed a bright future mapped out for him to pledge himself fully.

Now only Lu Zhishen remained. Zhao Yu knew he disliked being bound, but everyone has their strengths; even if he wasn’t always by his side, he could still help when needed.

“Why are you staring at me? It’s rare for a brother to have such ambition—how could I not support you? Tell me, what do you need me to do?”

Zhao Yu was overjoyed. Turning to Yang Xu and Lin Chong, he saw both solemnly salute him; though they spoke no words, their attitude made everything clear.

Yang Xu’s advice was sound: whatever the stone is, it has nothing to do with them. But to avoid discouraging their friends from Jiangnan, Zhao Yu suggested, “Let’s use the method you applied to Gao Qiu before, but this time, you don’t need to act yourself. We’ll provide intelligence support and let Zhang Shun and Ruan Xiao’er handle matters.”

Between brothers, words spoken in excess become hollow, so Zhao Yu began to issue orders directly.

“Yang Xu, you handle intelligence support and arrange a retreat for our friends from Jiangnan. Brother Lu, you assist from the sidelines and try to prevent Zhang Shun and the others from getting hurt.”

After Zhao Yu finished, the others nodded in agreement. His Highness had been too lively lately; it was time to sit back and watch the show.

But their hopes were destined to be dashed. Could a restless man truly remain idle?

Suddenly, Zhao Yu laughed, “Before we seize Zhu Mian, Brother Lu, I need you to help me with something...”

Early the next morning, Zhao Yu appeared punctually outside the palace as usual. Every day at this hour, he paid respects to Empress Zheng.

The palace gates opened. The guards routinely checked his token, smiling as they were about to let him through—when the sound of hoofbeats rang out from a distance.

Zhao Yu and the palace guards turned to look, and saw a portly official leading a group of soldiers bearing chests behind him.

It was Zhu Mian. By the look of it, he must have just arrived in the capital, else he wouldn’t be bringing so many things.

“Greetings, Prince of Yi!”

Zhu Mian recognized Zhao Yu, but his attitude was worlds apart from Li Yan’s. Having just returned from Jiangnan, he was unaware of recent events in the capital, and a powerless, idle prince was hardly worth his attention. After a perfunctory greeting, he ordered the palace guards to inspect the goods he had brought.

Zhao Yu appeared oblivious, smiled and nodded, and proceeded inside...