Chapter 275.2: Hello Chang'an
Chapter 275.2: The Unacknowledged Friend
Inside the carriage, a pot of warm tea had been prepared. Wei Shuyi held the teacup in one hand and raised his sleeve with the other, taking half a cup to quench his thirst.
As he set the cup down, a faint sigh escaped his lips.
It seemed that even the Holy Emperor had begun to guard against Cui Ling’an.
He recalled the past—how, before the late Crown Prince passed away, he had personally entrusted the command seal of the Xuanzhe Army to Grand General Chang.
Under Grand General Chang’s leadership, the Xuanzhe Army—battered and exhausted from a bitter campaign—spent three years in recovery and training, then struck a decisive victory against the Northern Di, restoring their former glory.
But after that battle, Grand General Chang suffered severe wounds and was later accused of defying imperial edicts. From that moment, command over the Xuanzhe Army fell into other hands.
Everyone wanted to seize this formidable force. At that time, the Holy Emperor had just ascended the throne, her authority yet unstable; every faction vied for power—political and military alike.
In the years that followed, the Xuanzhe Army was torn apart by competing interests. Those who held true influence were no longer seasoned commanders, but young noble scions—sons and nephews of high ministers. The army teetered on the brink of collapse.
The Holy Emperor, unwilling to see the elite force founded by the late Crown Prince fall into ruin, tried repeatedly to entrust it to loyal confidants. Yet the situation was beyond her full control—her chosen men lacked both the prestige and the strength to command the army’s respect, let alone to subdue the factions behind it.
This chaos dragged on for a long time—until Cui Ling’an appeared.
Everyone said then that the ancestral tomb of the Cui family must have been lit with crooked smoke—for it produced a young noble determined to carve his name upon the battlefield.
This young master of the Cui family, already a rising general of some renown, sought out the reclusive Chang Kuo more than once—three times in all. After being beaten on his third visit, he finally succeeded in convincing the old general to “descend from the mountains.” Though they bore no title of master and disciple, they shared its essence.
Most importantly, his surname was Cui.
Behind the young General Cui stood the mighty Cui clan—the foremost of all aristocratic families.
No one dared contend with him for control of the Xuanzhe Army, and even if they did, they would not prevail.
Thus, to preserve the army, the Holy Emperor had no choice but to choose him.
Of course, perhaps there were other reasons—reasons tied to the secrets hidden within the Celestial Maiden Tower, Wei Shuyi thought to himself.
At the beginning, Cui Ling’an relied on his family’s prestige and the aid of Chang Kuo to drive away the circling wolves.
Later, under his command, the Xuanzhe Army regained its former brilliance. Its rebirth made Cui Ling’an the rightful and undisputed Grand General of the Xuanzhe Army.
Today, when speaking of who truly mastered the Xuanzhe Army, none would question the name Cui Ling’an.
Wei Shuyi’s expression darkened.
He had long sensed the Holy Emperor’s intention—to have Ming Luo approach Cui Ling’an.
Cui Ling’an was far too difficult to control. This man seemed to have no weakness.
Born in heights that others could never reach even in a lifetime, he did not seek military glory for fame or advancement. No—his steps moved against the tide, ever downward.
A man of rebellion by nature, unmoved by wealth or power, always keeping a clarity that set him apart from all around him.
He never formed factions. He neither needed to nor cared to.
Since nothing else worked, perhaps beauty might—but even that failed, for he never accepted women bestowed upon him.
Countless officials tried to send beauties his way, none succeeded.
If not for beauty, then perhaps intellect?
Thus came Ming Luo—a female official with the right to participate in state affairs.
Yet, even that proved useless.
Even Wei Shuyi, merely watching from the side, could not help but sigh—truly vexing.
In short, Cui Ling’an was impervious to wealth and rank, unmoved by beauty or love.
—At least, that was what everyone thought until last year’s Hibiscus Banquet, when this man finally revealed a trace of desire. The court then realized: it was not that he disdained beauty; rather, no beauty until then had been enough to make him bow.
What a pity, Wei Shuyi mused. Fate is ever fickle—now that “beauty,” along with her father, had fallen out of imperial favor.
It was understandable that the Holy Emperor sought to balance such a man. But today, her actions seemed not merely wary—they carried the weight of genuine suspicion.
Was appointing Li Xian as Marshal of the Xuanzhe Army truly meant to “represent the throne and awe the realm”?
Or had Li Xian’s return to the capital been planned all along?
Wei Shuyi furrowed his brow.
Perhaps, whether Xu Zhengye truly marched upon Luoyang or not, the Holy Emperor had already resolved to let Li Xian meddle in the Xuanzhe Army’s affairs.
At such a turbulent juncture, the ruler sought to uproot all uncertainties—to hold every thread in her grasp.
But how the result would unfold… even Wei Shuyi could not foresee.
He was a close minister of the throne, raised and trusted by the Holy Emperor.
Yet Cui Ling’an was the man he truly admired—an unspoken friend.
Some things, he could not bear to witness, yet could not prevent.
As these thoughts whirled in his mind, Wei Shuyi lifted a small white jade teacup from the stand beside him.
The cup was delicate, translucent, with a faint blue mark on its base.
It was his favorite. As a child, he had begged his mother for it, scheming and pleading until she finally allowed him to borrow it. Ever since, he took it wherever he went.
He picked it up absentmindedly—but in that instant, his gaze sharpened.
A long-held question returned to him.
When he first met Chang Suining in Hezhou, she had left the Zhou family’s testimony inside his carriage. He had always wondered—how did she confirm his identity?
He had traveled in disguise, alerting no one, using a plain carriage. The only distinct thing aboard was… this set of tea cups.
Could it be—she recognized them?
Yet this set came from Princess Chongyue’s residence, never shown to outsiders. How could she possibly know them?
The more he thought, the more it seemed that between her and the Princess’s household, there lay countless hidden threads.
His curiosity toward her—his constant testing and watchfulness—all stemmed from this very sense of mystery he had sensed long ago.
Ordinarily, as one grew familiar with another, confusion gave way to understanding. But with her, it was the opposite—the closer he drew, the less he understood.
Gazing at the jade teacup in his hand, countless unanswered moments flooded his mind, rising to a peak.
It was late. The carriage did not stop outside the Marquis of Zheng’s residence but entered directly through the side gate wide enough for carriages.
As Wei Shuyi stepped down, a servant who had been waiting bowed and said, “Madam instructed that once Young Master returns, he is to go to Haofeng Courtyard.”
Wei Shuyi nodded.
Just as well—he wished to see his mother too.
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