The Child Emperor

Chapter 200: The Fisherman

When Han Ruzi awoke, daylight had already filled the sky. Though accustomed to having no fixed abode, in that first moment after opening his eyes, he was still startled and unsure of his whereabouts. He sat up abruptly, and only after a moment did he fully regain his bearings as his racing heartbeat gradually returned to normal.

A neat set of new robes lay beside the bed. Han Ruzi put them on and walked out of the room. He had been brought here in the early hours of the morning and hadn’t looked around much before collapsing into bed. Now it was afternoon, and the sunlight reflecting off the snow-covered ground was blindingly bright. Han Ruzi shielded his eyes with his hand, waiting a moment to adjust.

Five buildings were scattered haphazardly along the riverbank with no apparent planning, and there were no courtyard walls. Han Ruzi’s group had crossed the river far downstream the previous night and circled around to this spot. He hadn’t paid attention to the frozen river nearby then, but now found it strange – after traveling so far, they were still by the river. Wouldn’t it be easy for the Southern Army soldiers to find him?

A path had been cleared through the snow leading to the riverbank. As Han Ruzi walked along it, he saw an unfamiliar old man fishing in the distance on the riverbed.

Han Ruzi approached him. The old man, intently watching the hole he had broken in the ice, pointed to a long bamboo pole beside him without looking up and said, “Give me a hand.”

Han Ruzi picked up the pole and gently poked at the oval-shaped hole in the ice a few times, breaking up the floating ice. Then he turned the pole around and used the net on the other end to scoop out the ice chips.

There was a folding stool across from the old man. Han Ruzi sat down and watched him fish for a while, then looked up to study his host. Though the man’s beard was completely white, his skin was smooth, making his age difficult to guess.

Suddenly the old man lifted his rod, grabbing the fishing line with his other hand. A fish over a foot long was hooked on the end. The fish’s movements were not very vigorous – in such cold weather, even death seemed less frightening.

The old man tossed the fish into a wooden bucket beside him and smiled, “You’ve brought good luck – we’ll have fish to eat tonight. I hope you can wait a while.”

“Since I’m fishing, just call me the Fisherman.”

Seeing that the other party was unwilling to reveal his true name, Han Ruzi didn’t press the matter. He clasped his hands and bowed, “Thank you for taking us in, Elder Fisherman. Where are my companions?”

“Some left, some stayed.” The Fisherman’s words seemed both evasive and meaningful. After a pause, he changed the subject, “Have you ever fished in winter?”

“No.” Han Ruzi had never fished at all.

The Fisherman baited his hook again. “Ice fishing is very interesting. You can learn some truths from it.”

He didn’t explain what truths, and after watching for a while, Han Ruzi couldn’t help saying, “That patience leads to rewards?”

The old man laughed, “That’s one truth. What I learned was that you must wear plenty of warm clothing.”

Han Ruzi laughed too. It was indeed very cold outside, but fortunately there wasn’t much wind and he could bear it. However, he didn’t like this cryptic conversation. After waiting a while, he asked directly, “I heard there are pugilists patrolling along the river. Can’t they find this place?”

“They can. A group came by early this morning,” the Fisherman said, placing his fishing rod on its stand and looking up. “But they won’t cross the river. That’s the agreement. You’re very safe here.”

“Agreement? What agreement?”

Instead of answering, the Fisherman asked, “Isn’t the Weary Marquis curious about what’s happening in the Capital?”

“I am, but I don’t know you.”

“No matter. I’m just making conversation. The Weary Marquis can judge for himself whether it’s accurate, and verify it later.”

Han Ruzi found this increasingly strange, but Du Motian and Reckless had brought him here, clearly trusting the Fisherman completely. There was no need to press for answers, so he said, “I’m grateful for your help.”

“The Champion Marquis returned to the Capital first and has already gained the support of many imperial clansmen and court officials, especially Chancellor Yin Wuhai. Though Yin Wuhai holds the highest position and should be content, he was once tutor to the former Crown Prince and still resents his removal. Thus he’s determined to put the Crown Prince’s orphaned son on the throne. The Weary Marquis can understand his feelings, yes?”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Grand Tutor Cui Hong is well-informed and quick to react. Though he hasn’t returned to the Capital himself, he’s been quietly making arrangements for some time and has gained the support of many noble families, enough to rival the Champion Marquis and Yin Wuhai.”

“Is Grand Tutor Cui abandoning Prince Donghai again?” Han Ruzi asked. Though Cui Hong had been making arrangements for some time, Prince Donghai knew nothing of it, being forced to flee back to the Capital was an unexpected incident – it didn’t seem like he was coordinating with his uncle at all.

“No one knows Grand Tutor Cui’s true intentions. In any case, he’s maintained contact with the Champion Marquis, but when Prince Donghai returned from afar, he was also very pleased and immediately sent troops to escort his nephew into the Capital – both for protection and to show off his power, letting everyone know the succession struggle isn’t over.”

“What exactly happened in the palace?” This was what Han Ruzi was most concerned about.

The Fisherman stared at the water for a while, and after confirming no fish were biting, he said, “The Emperor has fallen gravely ill and is at death’s door, likely to pass at any moment.”

“What illness?”

“The ten imperial physicians have eleven different diagnoses. It’s some strange disease. Though the Emperor is young, he can’t keep food down and vomits after every meal. Now he’s wasted away to skin and bones, lying in bed, and hasn’t gotten up for a long time.”

In Han Ruzi’s memory, the Emperor was still that chubby child. “What about the Empress Dowager?”

“The Empress Dowager has also fallen ill, though her condition is somewhat better than the Emperor’s, with good days and bad.”

“The palace hasn’t approved any memorials for two months now. Why?”

“With the Emperor’s illness persisting, the Empress Dowager understands that another succession struggle is about to begin. But times are different now – the Great Chu faces both internal and external troubles. She can no longer simply choose a young imperial clansman to succeed at will. So, she came up with a solution.”

The Fisherman glanced at the water again.

Han Ruzi had a feeling that the Fisherman was more familiar with the Empress Dowager than with the Champion Marquis.

“The Empress Dowager’s solution is to let the princes compete for the throne, with the strongest ascending to save the Great Chu dynasty.”

“What?” Han Ruzi was shocked.

“Of course they can’t openly compete for the throne – that would be too undignified. The Empress Dowager must set the rules and personally oversee things. That’s why she hasn’t been approving memorials – partly because the Emperor is gravely ill and she herself is unwell, and partly to prevent others from taking advantage. Memorials are weapons for officials; one wrong move could affect the court’s balance and make the princes’ competition unfair.”

Han Ruzi couldn’t completely hide his anger. “The border almost fell because the court delayed issuing orders.”

“But if the court had issued orders, the Weary Marquis might have died at the frontier and never returned.”

Han Ruzi was slightly taken aback. Indeed, if the court had immediately responded to the Xiongnu’s arrival, the Northern Protection General would never have been the one appointed to command. With an imperial edict in place, he would have had no chance to seize the seal, take hold of authority, and command the troops.

“Of course, the Empress Dowager isn’t trying to protect anyone specifically – she just doesn’t want to be manipulated. If the Xiongnu army had truly reached the frontier, she would have had to issue edicts.”

Han Ruzi shook his head slightly. The palace didn’t understand the danger at the border and was treating the threat so frivolously. Soon he began to feel confused – this didn’t seem like the Empress Dowager’s character. Though she cared most about power, during her regency she had earned praise from officials and didn’t seem the type to act arbitrarily.

Refusing to approve memorials and having princes compete – none of this matched the Empress Dowager’s style. Han Ruzi stared at the Fisherman. “Who are you really?”

“A fisherman.”

“No, no – you have a name, one I’ve heard before. You may not want to say it now, but I’ll find out eventually. Why hide it for now?”

The Fisherman pulled up his line again. This time the fish was smaller, but he still seemed quite satisfied, smiling as he put his catch in the bucket. He picked up the bamboo pole with the net, broke up and scooped out a layer of floating ice from the hole, then baited his hook and resumed fishing.

“I’ve used too many names. Sometimes I don’t know which one to use.”

Han Ruzi suddenly stood up. “You’re Chunyu Xiao?”

The Fisherman nodded. “That is indeed one name I’ve used. If the Weary Marquis prefers it, I’ll be Chunyu Xiao.”

Han Ruzi was astonished and stared at the old man for a long while. This was Chunyu Xiao, leader of the fate seers? Shouldn’t he be arrested and executed on sight?

Han Ruzi slowly sat back down. “You persuaded the Empress Dowager?”

He finally understood who had come up with those strange ideas, but still didn’t understand how the Empress Dowager could be persuaded by a fate seer.

“The Empress Dowager figured it out herself. She needs people like us.”

Chunyu Xiao was said to be a eunuch, yet his beard reached his chest and was still thick. He was said to have a red mole in his left eyebrow, but Han Ruzi couldn’t see one. Only his tall stature and white beard matched the rumors completely. His affairs were always a mix of truth and fiction.

“So the fate seers now have the power to interfere with imperial succession. Congratulations.”

“We’re just following the natural course of events, going with the flow. Doesn’t the Weary Marquis want to know the rules of succession? If you had returned a few days later, you would have missed this opportunity. You’re fortunate, but compared to the Champion Marquis and Prince Donghai, you’re at a disadvantage.”

This explained why Lady Cui Xiaojun had repeatedly urged him to return to the Capital – she must have learned some inside information from the palace.

Han Ruzi had suffered many humiliations in his life, but none had angered him like this. Still, he smiled. “My apologies. Please continue, Master Chunyu.”

“No matter. As long as fish keep biting, it’s not a waste of time.” Chunyu Xiao set his fishing rod on its stand. “The rules are simple. First, no military action within the Capital region.”

“Didn’t Grand Tutor Cui send troops to escort Prince Donghai into the capital?”

“Just a small force of less than three hundred men. As I said, that was just for show, not military action.”

“I see.”

Chunyu Xiao smiled slightly. “Second, and most importantly, contestants may use any means except military force to gain the support of court officials. In the end, whoever has the most supporters will become the next emperor. Fair, isn’t it?”

Han Ruzi asked, “When exactly is ‘the end’?”

“Hard to say. We can’t choose a new emperor while His Majesty still lives, can we?”

Suddenly Han Ruzi no longer wanted to talk with Chunyu Xiao. He wasn’t even certain if this was truly Chunyu Xiao, but this fate seer’s abilities were clearly far beyond Lin Kunshan’s.

Han Ruzi stood up again and walked toward the shore without saying goodbye.

“Weary Marquis, don’t waste your fortune energies!” Chunyu Xiao called out loudly.

Han Ruzi still didn’t respond. He wanted to find Meng E and leave this place immediately. He didn’t understand why Meng E also trusted the fate seer and had left him alone.

A horse approached in the distance. Han Ruzi watched for a while, feeling somewhat relieved.

Yang Feng arrived as promised, alone. Soon he came before Han Ruzi, dismounted, bringing a blast of cold air that made Han Ruzi shiver involuntarily.

“What’s going on?” Han Ruzi asked, feeling Yang Feng would understand his full meaning without further explanation.

“The Empress Dowager has gone mad,” Yang Feng said.

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