Murong Yan dismounted outside the gates of Jindu, staring at the city—a place teeming with prosperity, yet cold to the bone. How many years had it been? The dawn sun glinted off the golden roofs, but all he saw was a reflection of his own sorrow.
"Father." Murong Jin hurried to meet him, offering a deep curtsy. "Was the journey tiring?"
He looked down at her and smiled. "It was fine. And you? Have you grown accustomed to the Fifth Prince's residence?"
Murong Jin's own smile was tight. "Of course. Xue Liulan has been very courteous."
"You call the Fifth Prince by his name?" Murong Yan's expression hardened.
"She calls me that all the time. I'm used to it," Xue Liulan said with a laugh, stepping up behind her. He gave Murong Yan a formal bow. "Father-in-law."
Murong Jin shot him a glare, a blush creeping up her cheeks.
"This old subject is unworthy of the honor," Murong Yan said, returning the bow.
He had traveled to the capital in plain clothes, with only two or three men, to avoid attracting attention.
"To travel so lightly… you must have been eager to see your precious daughter married," Xue Liulan said, his eyes flicking over the small retinue before landing on Murong Yan with a smile.
"Xue Liulan," Murong Jin warned through gritted teeth.
"Jin's mother passed away when she was young, and I was not there to care for her," Murong Yan said with a sigh, patting his daughter's shoulder. "Of course I had to rush back for her wedding."
She looks more like her mother every day, he thought. Eighteen years have passed, and this is the path I've chosen for her. Yun'er, will you ever forgive me for this?
Seeing the flicker of memory in her father's eyes, Murong Jin forced a smile. "Father, shall we return to the Murong estate?"
Before Murong Yan could answer, Xue Liulan cut in. "That won't do. The estate is occupied by your distant relatives now. After so long, I doubt you'd feel at home there. Why not stay at my residence? It would be more convenient for seeing your daughter. What do you say, Father-in-law?"
Murong Jin glared at him. She had been counting on her father's return as an excuse to move out. Now he was ruining her plan.
Murong Yan considered it for a moment. "Very well. I will stay at the prince's residence."
As they walked, Xue Liulan kept a casual distance ahead of them. The three guards Murong Yan had brought with him followed behind, seemingly admiring the street views. But a trained eye could see they were in a defensive formation, ready to neutralize any threat in an instant.
"You resent me for this, don't you?" Murong Yan asked his daughter, his voice low.
Her hand tightened on her horse's reins. After a long moment, she answered. "I always knew this day would come. I am a daughter of the Murong family. But… why him?"
"Why not him?"
"He is no great leader. These past few days, I have seen him for what he is. He's lazy, decadent, and spends his days in the company of women. He has a certain roguish charm, and he's not a fool, but…" She gave a short, bitter laugh. "He has no ambition."
Murong Yan only nodded, saying nothing. How could he answer her? Privately, Xue Liulan was the husband he had chosen for his daughter. Publicly, he was the master he had chosen for the Murong clan. But even a man like Murong Yan, a master judge of character, could not see through the Fifth Prince.
In a private room at a tavern, an agent in black stood respectfully behind Xue Feiyan.
"Murong Yan is back?" Xue Feiyan asked without looking up. He poured a cup of wine and offered it to Deng Qinyao, who sat across from him.
"Yes. He arrived in Jindu this morning. He's already at the Fifth Prince's residence."
"Oh?" Xue Feiyan smiled, looking at the Prime Minister. "He finally decided to come home."
"Your Highness, Murong Yan did not object to his daughter's marriage. His intentions are clear."
Xue Feiyan laughed. "It was an imperial decree. Of course he had to agree."
"Your Highness, you don't know the history," Deng Qinyao said, stroking his beard. "If Murong Yan had truly been unwilling, not even the Emperor—let alone the late Empress Murong—could have forced him."
"Oh?"
"The Murong clan, with their army, have long looked down on the imperial family. The Emperor only tolerates them out of respect for his late wife."
Deng Qinyao shook his head. "It's not tolerance. He is unable to act. Do you think the Emperor never wanted to remove them? He built up my Deng family for that very purpose. And what was the result? Murong Yan simply retreated to the frontier. The Emperor was helpless."
Xue Feiyan listened in silence, his fingers tracing the rim of his cup.
"And now, Murong Yan has returned. This is a great disaster for us," Deng Qinyao said, his eyes filled with worry.
"Then what do you suggest, Lord Deng?" Xue Feiyan asked, a hint of mockery in his voice.
"We must prepare for the worst. To be prepared is to be safe."
Xue Feiyan nodded and rose. "I understand. I have other matters to attend to. I'll take my leave."
Deng Qinyao stood and saw him out. The agent in black followed Xue Feiyan into a deserted alley.
"A powerful family acting in its own interest? Is the Deng family any different?" Xue Feiyan sneered. "Ling Yan."
"Here," a voice answered from the shadows. It was a woman's voice. No one would have guessed that the leader of Night Blade, the Seventh Prince's secret order of assassins, was a woman.
"Keep an eye on both sides. Be careful."
"Yes."
"And tell Zuo Xunxiao I want to see him."
"Yes."
The woman in black vanished. Xue Feiyan watched her go, a faint smile on his lips.
Murong Yan sat in a chair, watching Xue Liulan lean against a window frame. He had just laid out his grand strategy. If the prince was the fool his daughter believed him to be, then the conversation had been a waste of breath. But Murong Yan was willing to take the gamble. After all, the blood of the Murongs ran in the boy's veins.
"What are your thoughts, Your Highness?" Murong Yan asked, breaking the silence.
Xue Liulan didn't turn, his gaze fixed on a blossoming tree outside. He was as still as the flowers.
Murong Yan assumed he was frightened by the sudden weight of responsibility. "If Your Highness is afraid of being implicated, this old subject can handle everything."
"Does the general think my father has been idle all these years?" Xue Liulan asked with a soft laugh. "However muddle-headed he may seem, he is still the Emperor. If he could truly tolerate a general as powerful as you, a threat to his very throne, he would not have sat there for so long."
Murong Yan's brow furrowed. "What does Your Highness mean?"
"Only that when my father broke the 'Empress from Murong' tradition, he was already prepared for the consequences."
Those words… they were exactly what she had said, so many years ago. Murong Yan stared, then suddenly burst out laughing. "You truly are the Empress Murong's son. You may seem ordinary, but you are a dragon among men."
Xue Liulan turned, a lazy smile on his lips. "You flatter me, General. I was young when my mother died, but I remember some things."
"So, you think my plan is unworkable?"
"The Seventh Prince has his own army, and the Dengs are not all scholars. Your plan is sound, but the timing is wrong." Xue Liulan walked to the table and picked up a teacup. He took a small sip. "The tea is at the perfect temperature now. Won't you have some, General?"
Murong Yan understood. He took a sip of his own. "Indeed. This is the best time for tea." He paused. "Now that we have spoken openly, I need your word on one thing."
"My mother was a Murong. When the time comes, I will follow tradition and make Murong Jin my Empress."
Murong Yan nodded, satisfied. "Good. With those words, this old subject can rest easy."
"The sun is up. My father should be awake. Will you join me for an audience with His Majesty?"
"Of course. It would not do for me to return in secret and fail to pay my respects. We can also ask him to set a date for the wedding."
Xue Liulan just smiled. In the distance, he saw Murong Jin standing in a corridor, staring at the flowers in the courtyard. She had shed her martial aura completely, her hands clasped before her, her head slightly bowed. He could tell she was thinking, wrestling with some problem she couldn't solve.
"What's on your mind? Me, perhaps?"
She looked up, startled to find him right beside her. Her own reflection was captured clearly in his bright eyes.
"In your dreams," she scoffed, turning back to the flowers.
"Your father and I are going to see the Emperor about our wedding. Care to join?" he asked, stepping in front of her.
"Of course not. You're blocking my view."
He glanced back at the blossoming tree. "The flowers pale in comparison to you."