Chapter 84: Paying Respects to the Empress Dowager

When one is under another's roof, one must bow their head—especially in Shangjing, the Khitan capital. Even if Zhao Yu were a true dragon, he would have to coil up quietly for now.

Inside the carriage, Xiao Fengxian’s manner was affable and genial. His words and laughter made one feel as if basking in a spring breeze. Zhao Yu finally understood why the Emperor Tianzuo placed such trust in this devious man. The fellow was nothing less than an ancient Oscar-worthy actor; had Zhao Yu not known his true nature, he might have been fooled himself.

After exchanging a series of empty, inconsequential pleasantries, Xiao Fengxian suddenly changed the subject. “I hear Your Highness caused quite a stir in Youzhou, and that the Princess even killed a man on your behalf. Might I ask what really happened?”

The words were veiled, but Zhao Yu instantly realized why Xiao had been so courteous—this was the heart of the matter. With a faint smile, Zhao Yu replied, “Prince Xiao, in truth, I did that for your sake.”

“Oh? How so?”

“If I am not mistaken, His Majesty aspires to be a great restorer of the empire, but the Jurchen are fierce, and our nation is waning. Even with all your talents, Prince, your hands are tied. Heaven took pity and caused that villain Aguda to die suddenly. This presents you with a golden opportunity to become a renowned statesman—reforming administration and purging corruption. Imagine how many will bend the knee before you then?”

Zhao Yu’s long speech was only a prelude to his true aim: the final remark. Xiao Fengxian was a man of power who knew well that without it, he was nothing. If reforms could extend his reach into territories previously beyond his grasp, it would be exactly what he desired. This was the art of suiting one’s words to the listener.

Both sought reform—Zhao Yu for wealth and military strength, Xiao Fengxian for personal gain.

As expected, even before Zhao Yu finished, Xiao Fengxian’s eyes lit up. Nodding, he said, “You and the Princess were too reckless—Prince Jin will not be pleased…”

Before he could finish, Zhao Yu hurriedly added, “The property of Xiao Keyeda has already been confiscated. There are some items not easily dealt with, which I’ve ordered sent to your residence. As I’m new here, I hope you will look after me.”

A man who knows how to conduct himself will never suffer loss. Besides, the silver sent as a gift wasn’t even Zhao Yu’s to begin with. To pass up such a ready-made favor would be a disservice to Brother Xiao Keyeda.

On hearing this, Xiao Fengxian stroked his beard and laughed inwardly, thinking, “This young man is worth teaching.”

“What are your plans next?” he asked.

Zhao Yu knew the test had come. This question might be Xiao Fengxian’s own, or perhaps one from Emperor Tianzuo. Fortunately, he was prepared.

“When I left Bianliang, I organized a national football tournament. I wonder if you’ve heard of it, Prince Xiao? I left too hastily to see its results, so I would like to revive it. Would you be interested in becoming a stakeholder?”

With countless Khitan spies in Song, Xiao Fengxian certainly knew about the sensation caused by the national football league. Yet, the Liao court saw it as nothing more than the idle amusement of a playboy—harmless enough. Hearing Zhao Yu’s intent to organize another tournament, Xiao Fengxian finally relaxed.

Indifferently, he replied, “I'm not well-versed in such matters. I’ll refrain from joining you.”

“That won’t do. I wouldn't dare monopolize so much silver,” Zhao Yu insisted.

“Oh? How do you mean?”

This was the second time Xiao Fengxian had asked that since boarding the carriage, and he suddenly realized this young prince of Song always seemed to have a new surprise for him. With a gentle smile, Zhao Yu began explaining how the tournament could be used to amass wealth…

With the Jurchen threat temporarily lifted and the New Year approaching, Shangjing grew ever more lively. Yet, no matter how bustling it became, to Zhao Yu it felt like an uncivilized tribal settlement—nothing compared to the splendor of Bianliang.

Well, since fate had brought him here, he might as well settle in. Sometimes, the most reluctant choices prove to be the best.

Xiao Fengxian accompanied Zhao Yu straight to the inner palace, stopping outside a grand hall. Likely wishing to speak to the emperor alone, he left Zhao Yu waiting outside.

The Liao palace struck Zhao Yu as nothing but “shabby,” so he had no interest in looking around. He simply waited obediently.

For some reason, Zhao Yu suddenly felt as though many eyes were watching him from the shadows.

He chuckled inwardly: Were they vetting the new son-in-law? Let them look all they want—surely he was more sought-after than any Khitan man…

Narcissism is a disease, and an unabashed one at that.

After a while, an attendant finally summoned Zhao Yu inside. Another minute outside and his feet might have frozen off.

Stepping through the doors, he was greeted by a wave of sandalwood-scented warmth. An attendant took his cloak.

This was clearly not where Emperor Tianzuo conducted state affairs. Seated at the center was a dignified and elegant lady, a little too distant for him to discern her age without staring outright.

Beside her sat a middle-aged man in a black dragon-embroidered robe, with a small black beard. On her other side was Xiao Yiyi, splendidly attired.

It was Zhao Yu’s first time seeing Xiao Yiyi so prim and proper; he found it secretly amusing—so the little girl could be well-behaved after all.

Xiao Fengxian, who had just shared the carriage with Zhao Yu, now stood quietly to the side, hands lowered—clearly not important enough to be seated here.

“Greetings to the Holy Empress Dowager!”

“And what does this child call me?”

Adding “Holy” before “Empress Dowager” was likely Zhao Yu’s own innovation, as the title had yet to gain currency. Still, he was not mistaken—the lady at the center was Emperor Tianzuo’s mother, Empress Dowager Xiao.

“Aunt, he’s calling you Holy Empress Dowager!” Xiao Yiyi said, her eyes clearly full of admiration for Zhao Yu.

“That is a fine title. Fengxian, announce to the realm that henceforth, these two words must precede the Empress Dowager’s title.”

The middle-aged man was, of course, Emperor Tianzuo—Yelü Yanxi. Seeing Zhao Yu please his mother with a single phrase, he nodded approvingly. “You are quite impressive—no wonder Yiyi took a liking to you.”

“The floor is cold; stand up and speak. This child is rather pitiable—motherless from a young age, now driven out by his father. Yanxi, be sure to look after him.”

The mother-in-law inspected her son-in-law, and the more she looked, the more she liked him. After a few more approving glances, she said kindly, “Yiyi told me you wish to bring your mother here before the wedding—a good child, thinking of his mother. But as you know, the current situation makes it difficult to bring her here soon. You two are not getting any younger, and I am eager for a grandchild. So let’s set the wedding for the tenth day of the eighth month next year—will that suffice?”

It was likely the first time the Empress Dowager had spoken so warmly to anyone. Even Xiao Fengxian glanced at Zhao Yu with a hint of envy.

Zhao Yu understood—this was the Empress Dowager’s greatest concession. The time until next August was a window for him to bring his mother over. But with no troops or power, how could he manage that?

Seeing his hesitation, Emperor Tianzuo spoke at just the right moment. “I’ll write to the Emperor of Song myself and ask him to send your mother. It’s only for a wedding, after all—we’re not keeping her here.”

With both Empress Dowager and Emperor making their wishes known, any further insistence on Zhao Yu’s part would only diminish the good impression he’d made.

At this, he bowed deeply and said, “As Your Majesties command.”