Chapter Forty-Eight: Overthrowing Helan — Di Yao Presents Her Calling Card (Part One)

Not mentioning the miles of scorched earth, tomorrow promises to be another fine day.

The sun was sinking in the west, yet the western horizon blazed with a thick, purple-red glow, its brilliance almost tangible, as though countless strips of crimson and violet silk were layered atop each other. Of course, few were truly delighted by these magnificent evening clouds. The poem about drizzling rain during the Qingming Festival was still awaiting Li Wei to "compose," but Qingming was always a time of gentle spring rain, when travelers' clothes would be dampened—a normal occurrence.

A middle-aged man with a sharp, commanding appearance entered the residence of Xu Jingzong. Xu Jingzong was sipping tea and reading. The Crown Prince had encountered major trouble, but hadn't he returned safely? At over eighty years old, even when summoned by the Emperor for counsel, a carriage was prepared for him, lest any mishap occur. Thus, there was no need for him to leave the city to greet anyone.

Upon seeing Xu Jingzong, the man knelt and said, "Master, we failed to accomplish our task."

"Rise," Xu Jingzong replied. "I have heard all about it. Yet, the matter was handled quite well."

"Master, why do you say so?" the man asked, bewildered.

"People possess compassion. If the Crown Princess had suffered humiliation, both the Emperor and Empress would surely sympathize with the Crown Prince. Now, the incident has become widely known. When Lady Wei of the Wei Kingdom died, the Emperor was at least remorseful. Because of that, he developed some affection for Duke Zhou. As for what the Empress thinks, it is hard for us to guess. But among her relatives, several brothers and cousins have treated both the Empress and Lady Rong with contempt and insult. That's why Duke Zhou was elevated. The whole realm knows this. Yet, the Crown Prince has now publicized the matter; whatever the Empress thinks of Duke Zhou is unclear, but her impression of the Crown Prince cannot be favorable."

"I see. Master, your wisdom is unmatched."

"No, my wisdom is nothing compared to the Empress. She is far superior. Go now, and in the coming days, be cautious."

"Yes, sir."

The confidant withdrew. Xu Jingzong’s smile faded, and he became somewhat dispirited. After some thought, he said, "Call Yanbo here."

Xu Yanbo had already heard rumors about what happened outside. He was shocked—Helan Minzhi had gone mad? Not only attempted to kidnap the Crown Princess, but even dared to send assassins after the Crown Prince’s entourage—killing to silence them?

He approached his grandfather cautiously. Xu Jingzong asked, "Have you figured things out today?"

"Grandson realizes his mistake. I should never have aligned myself with Duke Zhou."

"Is that all?" Xu Jingzong was deeply disappointed. Helan Minzhi had grown so vicious, even he hadn’t foreseen it. His grandson’s remarks were nothing more than belated realization after hearing the news—what talent is there in hindsight?

"And, the Crown Prince is heir to the throne, and thus the ruler. I am but his subject. Even if the Crown Prince never ascends to the throne, I must keep my distance, but never insult him."

More empty words—hadn’t he said as much last night? Xu Jingzong thought of his hopes for his grandson and the future of the Xu family, and his anger made him leap up, grabbing a feather duster and thrashing Xu Yanbo, who cried out in agony, clutching his head. "Grandfather, if I don’t understand, shouldn’t you guide me? I am still young!"

These words finally softened Xu Jingzong’s heart. Yes, he is still young. Wasn’t I also confused about many things at his age? After much experience and hardship, the truths and lessons gradually became clear. Suddenly inspired, he closed the door and whispered, "Cry louder."

"Why?"

"In any case, Duke Zhou is likely to suffer greatly this time—not just him, but his servants, relatives, and friends could be implicated."

---

Xu Jingzong’s expectations for his grandson Xu Yanbo were exceedingly high, but the boy's aptitude was not bad. Immediately, Xu Yanbo began wailing, "Grandfather, please stop beating me! I’m about to die! Ah, it hurts!"

His face was all smiles, yet his cries were so mournful and pained that the entire Xu household was thrown into anxiety. Xu Jingzong, however, was quite pleased with his grandson's performance.

He whispered, "This is only secondary. I am old, with few years left. As for you, my entire life I enjoyed the favor of the Emperor and Empress, but I have offended many as well. Once I am gone, the Xu family will rely on you. The Emperor and Empress, out of respect for me, will not mistreat you. But you must be cautious, or else this glory may vanish in a few years, and you’ll be left stranded. Never act rashly—evaluate the situation. Even if you dislike someone, never offend them. If you must, do it before they rise to power, and crush them utterly. Like the Crown Prince’s poem—‘Wildfire cannot destroy, spring wind brings life anew.’ Moreover, while killing demands retribution, deceiving the dead does not. There are countless ways to bring about someone’s demise, but the least wise is open confrontation, as Wu Minzhi did."

"I understand. I must be like Li Yifu—honeyed words, hidden sword."

"Similar idea. Li Yifu quickly rose to high office, but became complacent, forgot his own words, and was soon exiled to Lingnan. That’s one lesson. To be safe, you must know where the power lies. Who rules the realm today?"

"The Emperor—no, the Empress."

"Exactly. The Empress—anyone who underestimates her will suffer dearly." Xu Jingzong finished speaking, opened the door, and said sternly, "Go reflect. No dinner tonight. When you understand, you may eat."

He glanced at the servants crowding the doorway and said, "Anyone who brings him food will have their legs broken."

"Yes," Xu Yanbo said, clutching his arm and chest, limping away as if his chest was injured, his elbow sore, and his leg broken.

Watching his grandson’s theatrics, Xu Jingzong was all the more satisfied.

---

Helan Minzhi had already realized, when soldiers surrounded his mansion, that the operation at Mount Zhongnan had failed.

No matter; the scheme was cleverly laid out, and in case of failure, he planned to avoid losing everything. He had Liu Lu hire six street ruffians to carry out the job. Paid handsomely, but told nothing of the real plan—they were simply paid to follow and capture a young lady. They trailed Yang Min to Mount Zhongnan, where Liu Lu pointed out the target from the crowd, saying, "That girl—bring her to the carriage outside the mountain, and I’ll pay you."

The six ruffians followed discreetly. There were many people, so they waited—Yang Min and her companions would surely spend the night in one of the temples or monasteries. After visiting the lecture platform and other sights, they grew bored; tomorrow they would likely go somewhere quieter, to see the true mountain scenery.

Then the incident occurred.

Where Liu Lu had gone, Helan Minzhi did not know, but he was clever and probably slipped away early. In other words, there was no evidence linking him to the crime. Still, he wondered—where had the plan gone awry? It should have been perfect.

Yet his heart was calm. Even if there was proof he had kidnapped the Crown Princess, so what? Hadn’t he already fallen? At worst, he’d be demoted—would they really execute him?

At that moment, Li Wei burst in with his men.

He waved his hand and said, "Search thoroughly."

"Yes, sir!" The guards exchanged knowing glances and replied in unison.

They searched meticulously.

"Zhang San, check that chest—see if anyone's hiding inside."

---

"Alright!"

There was a luxurious, large cypress wood wardrobe—big enough to hide someone. But to check, one need only open the lid. Zhang San did not do so; instead he thrust his sword inside, stabbing twice, gouging the box until it was unrecognizable, then reported, "Li Si, no one’s hidden here."

"Keep searching!"

"Yes, sir!"

If the search continued like this, what would become of Helan Minzhi’s mansion?

Helan Minzhi was beside himself with rage. "All of you, stop at once!"

Once, no soldier would have dared act against Helan Minzhi without his command. But now, after attempting to kidnap the Crown Princess and sending assassins after the Crown Prince, he was finished. The soldiers were afraid, but none stopped—instead, they searched all the more aggressively.

Helan Minzhi glared at Li Wei. "Crown Prince, you dare use public authority for personal revenge? Don’t forget, Lady Rong’s memorial tablet is still enshrined here. You storm my mansion, disturbing her spirit. I will report this to the Emperor and Empress."

At this point, he still dared to threaten Li Wei.

Li Wei was truly furious. He had never liked Wu Zetian, his mother. Though she had borne him, his soul felt no kinship. He felt no warmth—only fear and dread.

He cared little for any feud between Helan Minzhi and his mother. But Helan Minzhi had targeted him, attempted to harm his fiancée, and tried to assassinate him. The sacrifice of four loyal guards and Li Zhuofan made him all the more enraged.

In his fury, Li Wei struck with a Taiji cannon fist, right at Helan Minzhi's chest.

Helan Minzhi's looks were remarkable—not just among men, but even women rarely matched his delicate features. Among beauties like Yang Min, Xu Li, Fragrant Snow, and Painted Willow, he could stand shoulder to shoulder in elegance. Yet his build was far from robust, and years of indulgence had sapped his strength. Li Wei’s own health was not great, but his technique was superb. One strike felled Helan Minzhi to the ground.

He snatched a guard’s sword and strode over, stepping on Helan Minzhi. But he kept his wits. Killing him was unwise: Helan Minzhi was a duke, his mother’s favored nephew—if Li Wei killed him, all his efforts would be wasted, and his mother’s wrath would force him to flee.

Still, he could not quell his anger.

His eyes fixed on Helan Minzhi's loathsome part—the audacity to covet his fiancée! It was that little bird that caused all this trouble. If he cut it off, it would not be fatal, and if he let such an insult pass without response, he’d be far too timid.

Thus, he raised the sword, aimed at that offending part, and sliced down diagonally.

PS: Thanks to everyone’s strong support, the new historical novel is now ranked first on the charts. If not for a formidable competitor, it would still reign supreme in Sanjiang. Collections, clicks, recommendations—all the statistics are excellent. I am very satisfied and happy.

But I must do something less pleasing: reduce the number of chapters. Wait! Don’t rush to throw bricks. There are only about ten thousand words left before the new book leaves the charts—I want to linger a few more days. I am an honest person, telling it as it is. But I am not without conscience; just bear with me for two or three days. Starting Sunday, there will be three chapters a day to repay everyone, and all the drafts will be released next week. The release schedule will be postponed, with a huge public edition. Three chapters per day—calculate the word count; if I were the 2K type, there’d be at least five chapters!

Lastly, please continue to collect and recommend. Let’s see if I can surpass my previous work, “My Talented Scholar.”