The Slender Waist-Chapter 834 - 586: Love Locks the Country

After Pei Jue led his troops to Dan Prefecture, the momentum of the Qi Army waned significantly. However, Xiao Cheng had not been idle these past years, and the combat power of the Qi Army far surpassed its level during the third year of Xinghe. Their weapons were robust, their machinery sophisticated—a formidable force capable of both assaulting cities and defending the nation’s soil.

Several battles ended with victories evenly split between both sides, leaving no decisive outcome for the time being.

Although this was partly due to Xiao Cheng gaining the advantage of striking first, it nonetheless proved that Xiao Cheng as an opponent had grown powerful indeed.

Of course, Feng Yun was not surprised.

He had always been like this.

If given more time, he would inevitably bring all under heaven into his grasp.

Hou Zhun had once said something that was true: "Why produce a Yu when there is a Liang."

Had it not been for Pei Jue, how could the Jin Dynasty’s national legacy have lasted so long in the previous lifetime?

It remained unknown whether, after Pei Jue’s passing, Xiao Cheng had crossed the Huaishui River in force, ending the puppet court of Li Sangruo and her father.

The year seemed unusually long due to the ongoing war.

A span of mere months from summer to winter felt like countless cycles of spring and autumn.

The battles at the warfront diluted the festive atmosphere of the year’s end. Feng Yun could scarcely summon the mood to prepare provisions for the New Year, leaving the matter to Alou instead.

As for court matters, Tang Shaogong’s earlier reminders lingered in her thoughts.

She refrained from intervening directly, choosing instead to consult Elder General Pei at the Pei Residence.

The daughter-in-law arrived with her grandson in tow and addressed him earnestly, prompting Pei Chong to have himself wheeled into the court the next day—

When Pei Jue ascended the throne, debates arose in court over the proper rewards for his still-living father. Opinions varied wildly, necessitating careful deliberations to prevent any appearance of power struggles between father and son.

Pei Jue paid little heed to such discussions. He adhered to ancient ceremonies, honoring Pei Chong as "Retired Emperor" and posthumously elevating his adoptive mother to the rank of Empress Dowager, granting her an official title out of filial piety.

Yet Pei Chong never entered the palace.

An Imperial City cannot accommodate two "emperors," a subtle truth Pei Jue fully understood. He did not wish to make Pei Chong feel conflicted, nor provide opportunists with even the slightest pretext for undermining their father-son relationship.

After receiving his titles, Pei Chong cited his physical infirmities as a reason to remain at the Pei Residence year-round, accompanied only by his daughter Pei Yao. He refrained from attending official court banquets, rituals, or any other events requiring hierarchical distinctions.

When Pei Jue and Feng Yun visited to pay their respects, the moments of familial harmony were cherished.

No one could have anticipated that the "Retired Emperor," confined within the walls of the residence, would one day arrive unexpectedly and solemnly declare:

During the Emperor’s military expeditions, he would oversee the nation alongside Crown Prince Pei Jun.

Feng Yun could not guess what kind of expression Tang Shaogong wore upon seeing Pei Chong at court, but her own spirits certainly lifted. That very day, she instructed the kitchen staff to prepare dishes suited to an elder’s palate and personally delivered them to Guang Yang Hall, where she dined with Pei Chong and Rui Bao.

When they left Guang Yang Hall, Rui Bao clung silently to her hand.

Feng Yun, sensing something, glanced sideways and asked him, "What are you thinking about?"

"Father Emperor," Rui Bao replied. He then tilted his head and asked, "And you, Mother Empress?"

"The same." Feng Yun smiled.

Rui Bao mimicked the demeanor of an adult and let out a sigh.

"Only after sitting on the court as a prince do I comprehend Father Emperor’s burdens."

Feng Yun chuckled softly and asked instinctively, "Do you enjoy it, Rui Bao?"

She vividly remembered Yuan Shangyi repeatedly lamenting how he wished not to be emperor, calling the palace a prison, his young face wracked with anguish.

She hoped Rui Bao was truly happy.

She feared he might be another Yuan Shangyi.

"Yes," Rui Bao responded casually before suddenly nodding more firmly. "I find it quite fascinating."

"Oh? What’s fascinating about it?"

"Sitting there, observing ministers scheming against one another, hearing their veiled words—it’s like sitting before a chessboard, watching black stones and white stones clash in the winds and clouds, unraveling their hidden stratagems. Every word and gesture is a study, every action a composition. The court is the pinnacle of wisdom and intrigue; once you grasp its workings, it brings great joy..."

Feng Yun gazed at his earnest little face and lightly squeezed his hand.

"The road ahead is long; learn and tread slowly."

Rui Bao squeezed her hand back firmly. "I understand, Mother. Father Emperor has taught me well. Be steady, like Mount Tai. Be diligent, with the nation’s affairs as priority. Be ruthless, without tolerance or leniency. Be kind, with the people close to heart. Be virtuous, worthy of the world’s trust."

Feng Yun laughed.

Perhaps it was the intoxicating night breeze.

She felt, for once, that Pei Gou had won.

In their son’s eyes, his position seemed higher than hers, didn’t it?

"Mother Empress, when will the war be over?"

The lantern’s glow illuminated the stone-paved path.

Feng Yun watched the footsteps of the two figures—one large, one small—as they alternated forward, a sudden ache gripping her chest.

On a past New Year’s Eve, Pei Jue had similarly walked with her and Rui Bao, eschewing sedan chairs for a leisurely stroll back to the palace.

Three sets of footsteps trailed faster, livelier, and happier.

She answered, "When Qi Country retreats, Father Emperor will return."

Rui Bao asked, "When Qi Country retreats, does the war end?"

Feng Yun lowered her gaze to his small head and murmured assent.

She had intended to soothe the child’s worries. Yet after hearing her response, Rui Bao furrowed his brows and looked up at her.

"Qi Country bullies us—is it fair for them to demand a truce as they please?"

Feng Yun’s heart skipped a beat. "What do you suggest, Rui Bao?"

"I believe we should seize the opportunity to strike back, march to Tai City, pull their Dog Emperor from the Dragon Throne, and whip him publicly—that would be satisfying."

"Oh?" Feng Yun let out a brief laugh.

War was, of course, far more complex than Rui Bao imagined, but his words brought a sense of encouragement.

"My son is far-sighted and extraordinarily wise."

"I’m still too young."

"Do you wish to grow up quickly?"

"Yes. If I were older, I could ride into battle and draw my bow, fighting for Father Emperor on the warfront... Perhaps then we could defeat the Dog Emperor sooner and bring Father home faster—to stay by your side, making you happy every day."

"..." Feng Yun was amused and exasperated.

The accompanying palace attendants couldn’t suppress their chuckles either.

Laughter drifted forth from Qilin Pavilion, carried across the Imperial City.

Not only the Crown Prince, but everyone in Xinjing awaited the end of the war.

The New Year’s Eve of the seventh year of Jingning arrived quietly amidst such heavy anticipation.

In the bitter cold of winter and swirling snow, Rui Bao donned his winter clothes while Feng Yun wrapped herself in a thick fur coat.

Inside and outside the Imperial City, it seemed as though an endless expanse of white fabric had been unfurled, stunningly beautiful.

In Feng Yun’s memories, the last time she had seen such snowfall was during the winter of the second year of Tianshou.

That year witnessed a catastrophic snow disaster.

Perhaps it was the festive spirit that influenced Rui Bao; as December arrived, he often expressed to Feng Yun his yearning for Pei Jue.

A child’s longing is subtle.

More intense than when Pei Jue was in Xinjing, yet equally restrained.

"Mother, write to Father, will you?"

"Be sure to tell him, the New Year is approaching."

"Also remind him that we all believe he will win the war."

"The Grand Tutor said Father used to be a War God. But is Xiao Cheng a War God too? Why else does it take so long to defeat him and drive him out of Da Yong’s territories?"

"Mother, if Father could come back for the New Year, it would be wonderful. Just like last year, when we three shared the same bed... Father likes to lull me to sleep and then secretly kiss you."

"Mother, did Father reply to your letter?"

"I want to see it, let me see!"

Without his father beside him, the Crown Prince’s majesty manifested only in the court.

Beyond the court, the child clung to her, his dependence growing stronger.

This reached its peak on New Year’s Eve.

Feng Yun didn’t know how to address the heavy yet restrained, even slightly shy, love that her son bore for his father.

Because news from the warfront came increasingly sparingly.

The last piece of good news had arrived before the New Year.

So had Pei Jue’s letter.

It read, "Since winter set in, both armies have been recuperating. The meat you sent, Yun Niang, has been distributed among the soldiers. Not fighting and having meat to eat makes them very happy. Yet my heart is filled with regret at being unable to return home for the New Year, leaving you and Rui Bao behind in debt."

It continued, "We are bound to one another, entangled in debts. When I tally them up, I find that what I owe you outweighs yours to me."

He promised, "I hope that someday, I will take you to ride across all lands. To watch the moon rise over the Cang Sea, stars shift in the night sky, tread the vast mountains and rivers, and admire myriad landscapes."

He added a tender note, "There are things I wish to say but cannot pen down. You are so astute; no doubt you understand me. Your dull-tongued husband cannot coax his wife, so he only seeks to offer something—honor, achievements... Forget it, just take me instead; I give myself entirely to you."

He mused, "The snow is falling heavily. Could it delay your receipt of this letter? The Emperor is indeed ordinary, unable to halt the snow to hasten my wife’s letter delivery and evoke her smile..."

Finally, he ended with, "Yun Niang, stay safe and well."

This must be the longest letter Feng Yun had ever received from Pei Jue.

Across two lifetimes, all his words combined had never matched such length.

When he wrote the letter, he must have missed her dearly to be so affectionate?

Feng Yun read through the letter with a smile.

Then, as she kept reading, tears welled up.

Who owed whom? The debts between her and Pei Jue were entangled beyond resolution.

They wouldn’t be untangled in this lifetime, nor in the previous one.

What she cared about wasn’t who owed more.

What mattered was...

The war couldn’t be allowed to drag on like this.

She kept vigil until the third night watch, coaxed Rui Bao to sleep, and then sat in her room re-reading Pei Jue’s letter from before the New Year, unable to find rest that night. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

At last, she endured until dawn. Rising from her bed, she summoned Xiaoman and ordered preparations for a bath.

The heated floor warm as it was couldn’t dispel the persistent chill in her heart. She desperately needed a hot bath to ease her emotions and reflect deeply on strategies.

Xiaoman emptied buckets into the bath, then placed two additional buckets of boiling water to the side.

"Should you need more, Your Grace, just call me."

Feng Yun disliked having anyone attend to her while bathing.

Xiaoman therefore stood outside the curtain.

Feng Yun gave a quiet affirmation, disrobed, and sank into the bath’s warmth. She raised some water over her face, only to suddenly plunge her head beneath the surface.

Xiaoman, hearing no movement for a moment, felt her heart tighten and prepared to rush in. Just then, a loud splash rang out—the sound of breaking water, like a dragon emerging from the sea.

"Xiaoman," Feng Yun said in a low voice, her hands slowly gripping the edge of the tub as she shook droplets from her hair.

"Go inform General Ao that I wish to see him."