Chapter 4: C4. I Just Want To Marry Yunzhu!

Chapter 4

Li Yong’s emotions surged like a storm in the emperor’s presence. Shame burned in him as he wrestled with the undeniable truth: the favor shown to him far outweighed his worth.

Back at the Duke’s Mansion, he couldn’t keep his emotions in check. In front of his wife and cherished daughter, the weight of injustice clawed at his spirit. Outside, he had faced humiliation; here, he let the grievance spill forth, leaning into the solace of those he trusted most.

The gnawing fear of losing the war haunted him, a constant whisper questioning his own abilities. Yet, as enticing as the comforts of wealth and status in the capital seemed—just like the life Sun Chao embraced—Li Yong clung fiercely to his loyalty. His mission to reclaim the three states was a fire within, unyielding despite the turmoil.

Punished yet determined, he was plagued by a deeper agony: the scorn of those who should have praised him. Their disdain made him feel like a ghost of himself, a man stripped of dignity and unacknowledged for his deeds.

Standing beside his wife, words failed him. The weight of emotion bore down, and he feared that speaking would break the dam completely.

With his parents long gone, only his wife remained, a rock he could lean on without shame. She was his sanctuary, the only one who could witness his tears without mocking his pain.

Through Meng’s eyes, her husband’s tears were heart-wrenching. The sight of a proud man crumbling was raw, vulnerable, and deeply human. It struck her like the delicate sorrow of a beautiful woman crying.

“Come inside. Say what you need to,” Meng urged, her voice calm, unwavering. She led him indoors, her focus solely on him.

Yunzhu, startled to see her father like this, was at a loss. He had always been the pillar of strength, unshaken even by the fiercest storms. To witness him falter was a shock she hadn’t been prepared for.

Meng, with her trademark grace, guided her husband inside. Her attention never wavered; the world beyond him ceased to matter.

Quietly observing, Yunzhu composed herself. She motioned for the attendants and servants to retreat, sensing her father’s need for privacy. In that moment, she knew: this was her mother’s role to play, and hers was to step aside.

She slipped away discreetly, understanding that her father’s solace lay in her mother’s presence.

Dusk fell before Yunzhu crossed paths with her father again. By then, Li Yong had wrestled his emotions back under control. After washing, shaving, and donning a green silk robe, he emerged with the dignity of his former self.

When she joined her mother at Zhenghe Hall, she pretended not to notice her father’s swollen eyes. Instead, she seated herself quietly, her gaze turning to the snow outside.

“Brother’s on duty today,” she said, her tone light and conversational. “He should be back soon, shouldn’t he? Has Mother arranged a carriage to bring him back from the Imperial City?”

Caught off guard, Meng shi blinked, her mind still occupied with her husband. “What carriage? You know how he is—the most grounded man in the capital. He’d scoff at such a fuss.”

Li Yunzhu smirked. “Mother may not care about him, but I do.”

Without another word, she signaled her maid to notify the steward.

Li Yong stood frozen, confusion etched across his face. His daughter, his precious Yunzhu, seemed to have turned distant. Expecting warmth, he was met with indifference, and the sting of it shook him.

“Yunzhu,” he called out, his voice tinged with unease. “Why are you ignoring me?”

Beneath his calm exterior, panic brewed.

Had he lost more than just the battle for power?

Had he also lost the respect of his own daughter?

Fixing her father's gaze, Yunzhu stared him down and shot back, "You ignored me first. I waited for you anxiously, but you walked in as if I didn’t exist."

Li Yong, caught off guard, coughed to gather himself and tried to defend his actions. Before he could get far, Yunzhu cut him off, gripping his sleeve as she declared, "No matter what anyone else says, to me, you’re the greatest father in the world."

She stood unwavering in her loyalty, dismissing others' opinions as worthless. What mattered was the steadfast love and support she always received from him.

Li Yong, shaken by her conviction, felt tears rise again. Meng Shi, ever observant, handed him an embroidered handkerchief and teased with a sharp grin, "You’ve cried into this so much, it might as well be a rag now."

His composure faltered further, and his flushed face betrayed his emotions.

Switching gears, Yunzhu asked directly, "Are you injured, Father?"

Li Yong hesitated, unsure how to respond. Meng Shi stepped in briskly, explaining, "He has a knife wound on his waist and an arrow scar on his shoulder—serious injuries. The smaller ones don’t even count."

To most, injuries are seen as weakness, a sign of failure. Li Yong was ready to bow his head in shame when his daughter’s sharp, unyielding voice stopped him cold.

"Father, you're incredible," she declared. Her words rang clear, cutting through the air like steel. "Even the Duke of Qi, famous for his bravery, would flinch at the sight of an arrow. But you? You face the battlefield, again and again, with unrelenting courage. Your strength is unmatched. Compared to cowards like the Marquis of Jiangyin and the Marquis of Jinghai, who fake illness to avoid the emperor’s orders, you are the epitome of duty and honor. Among all the noble families of the capital, there is no one more responsible than you."

Her words left Li Yong speechless. He struggled to process the weight of her praise.

Sensing his unease, Yunzhu placed a steady hand on his shoulder, her voice softening but her resolve intact. "Grandfather wore his scars like badges of honor. Yours are no different. Now that they’ve healed, they stand as proof of your strength."

Li Yong couldn’t find a response. If his late father were alive to see his battlefield exploits, the old man might very well claw his way out of the grave in disbelief.

Meng Shi, unable to suppress her laughter, quipped, "If she keeps hyping you up like this, you’ll have no choice but to pick up a sword and lead the troops again!"

Li Yong shook his head, grinning despite himself. Facing the enemy on his own was one thing, but commanding armies? That wasn’t who he was. Yet, for the first time in years, he let out a genuine laugh.

As snowflakes fell in thick, heavy silence, the Duke’s heir, Li Yao, entered the hall with a commanding stride. His towering frame and striking resemblance to his late grandfather cast a shadow over the room, leaving even Li Yong with a faint flush of discomfort.

Unlike his mother and sister, Li Yao offered his father little regard. He strode in, settled into a seat without so much as a word, and narrowed his eyes, casting a cold, judgmental stare at the proud but visibly shaken man before him.

Here’s the rewritten version with a direct, assertive, and aggressive tone:

With casual indifference, he began humming, his voice dripping with irony: "Defeat is part of war. Every great general falls at some point. Feeling down is normal, but wallowing in failure every day? That's pathetic."

Li Yong's face darkened at his son’s arrogant tone. Fury ignited, he snapped, "Watch your tongue. No matter my defeat, I’m still better than you in martial arts!"

Unfazed, Li Yao’s humming grew louder, more deliberate. Rising from his seat, he declared with sharp defiance, "Then prove it. Outside. Now."

Li Yong stood, his anger flaring. "Challenge accepted!"

The air crackled with tension as father and son locked eyes, their tempers boiling over. Yunzhu and Meng Shi’s frantic attempts to intervene were dismissed outright. Neither man cared for reason. Moments later, both stripped off their outer garments, swords drawn, ready to clash.

Snow fell steadily, the corridor’s light casting a cold glow on the ground. Yunzhu, wrapped in her cloak and holding a hand stove, stood apart, her face alight with admiration for the fierce display before her.

Li Yong moved with the elegance of polished jade, while Li Yao attacked like a raging tiger. Both were masters, their skill unmatched. But youth and strength were no match for decades of hard-won experience. Li Yong, sharp as ever, outmaneuvered his son. With one fluid motion, his spear was at Li Yao’s throat just as the kitchen maid stole another glance.

Breathless and beaten, Li Yao let his sword clatter to the ground.

Mockery laced Li Yong’s laughter. "What’s wrong, boy? Can’t handle losing?"

Li Yao glared, his voice bitter. "I’m angry. Your skill with weapons is unmatched, but you’re useless at leading troops!"

For weeks, gossip and scorn hung heavy in the air. Yunzhu and her daughter bristled at the rumors, while Li Yao endured relentless scrutiny—cold stares from court officials, mocking whispers from palace maids and eunuchs.

If not for his grandfather’s stern rebukes, urging restraint, Li Yao might have snapped and put the cowards in their place.

Li Yong sighed, wearied by the truth. "Your grandfather is right. I’ve learned the hard way that theory and practice are worlds apart. You, too, need to rein in your temper and follow the rules."

Li Yao said nothing, his expression unreadable, his fury simmering beneath the surface.

Yunzhu, meanwhile, felt a restless pull toward the East Palace. As the clash between her father and brother played out, a stark realization took hold. Neither could be relied upon. Her grandfather’s words rang clear: the weight of Duke Ningguo’s legacy would fall squarely on her younger brother's shoulders.

*

Within the grand palace, heavy snow blanketed the grounds in oppressive silence, with not even a whisper of wind to stir the air. Emperor Yuan Qing, dining alone, grew weary of his isolation. He commanded the imperial kitchen to prepare a pot of soup and summoned his three sons and only daughter to join him.

Forty years on the throne and only four heirs—an embarrassment, a failing he could not ignore.

It was his own doing, a consequence of weakness in his youth. Indulging his concubines with unrestrained affection, he had sparked vicious rivalries. Jealousy fueled backstabbing and cruelty among them, each scheming to eliminate their rivals and their children. The harem descended into chaos, a pit of venom and intrigue. When Emperor Yuan Qing could stomach no more, he acted with brutal clarity—executing the concubines and casting the rest into the cold palace to rot. Not one was spared.

Only four children survived his purge. The eldest prince escaped death, though not unscathed—his leg crippled as a grim reminder. The second prince, the third prince, and Princess Yi’an were born later to less embattled concubines. This left an awkward gap in their ages: the eldest prince stood at eighteen, while the second prince followed at twelve. The Crown Prince, a mere ten years old, was born of Empress Cao and bore the highest rank.

The Crown Prince arrived first, emerging from the East Palace with haste.

They said a nephew often resembled his uncle, and Emperor Yuan Qing saw traces of Cao Shao in the boy’s sharp, handsome features.

The second prince arrived shortly after, drawing his father’s scrutinizing gaze.

His mother, the late Concubine Shu, hailed from the prestigious Cao clan. A vision of beauty and grace, her life was tragically cut short in childbirth, leaving her son motherless. Seeking to maintain ties with the Cao family, Emperor Yuan Qing married another Cao daughter—Xu Xian’s legitimate child—and crowned her Empress without hesitation.

Looking at his second son, Yuan Qing saw something familiar: a face like his own, though faintly echoing Cao Xun’s shadowy memory. Decades had blurred his recollection of the man, gone from Beijing for far too long.

When all were seated at the table, Emperor Yuan Qing broke the silence, demanding updates on their lives.

The eldest prince, burdened by his crippled leg, spoke little, his voice weighed down with quiet inadequacy.

The second prince, equally reserved, kept his thoughts to himself.

Then the Crown Prince spoke. Confident, arrogant, basking in the favor of both Emperor and Empress, he did not hesitate to complain. With an air of entitlement, he criticized his companion, Li Xian, calling the man a disgrace and accusing his father of damaging his reputation by association.

Emperor Yuan Qing, unshaken, met his son’s audacity with composed authority. He probed deeper, listening carefully, then offered his assurance: the matter would be addressed. His tone was even, but his eyes carried the weight of unyielding control.

*

Here’s the revised version with a direct, assertive, raunchy, and aggressive tone:

The next morning, Emperor Yuan Qing issued his decree: Li Yong was stripped of his command over the Imperial Guard. It was a clear, unflinching signal of the emperor’s iron resolve.

Once court was dismissed, Emperor Yuan Qing summoned the Crown Prince and his companion, Li Xian, to the Qianqing Palace.

Li Xian, barely thirteen but already steeped in the weight of his family's towering legacy, stood proud and formidable. Draped in a cyan brocade robe that exuded power, he carried himself with a maturity far beyond his years. His presence demanded attention.

Beside him, the Crown Prince radiated arrogance, casting a cold, cutting gaze toward Li Xian.

Emperor Yuan Qing’s eyes bore into the two boys as he broke the silence, addressing Li Xian with unrelenting directness: “Do you know why I summoned you here?”

Li Xian’s voice was steady, respectful. “I do not, Your Majesty.”

With a firm hand resting on the Crown Prince’s head, Emperor Yuan Qing didn’t mince words. “The Crown Prince claims you’re unworthy to stand as his companion. What do you say to this accusation? Do you have anything to defend yourself with?”

Li Xian didn’t flinch. His every move, his every word, spoke of unshakable discipline. His eyes, framed by long lashes, betrayed a fleeting glimmer of something unspoken before locking into an icy calm. “I have done my duty. Nothing more needs to be said. I will follow the Emperor’s command.”

The emperor’s lips curled into a faint, approving nod. “Very well. Duke Ningguo awaits you outside the gates. Go.”

Li Xian didn’t falter. Kneeling before both the emperor and the Crown Prince, he kowtowed three times, his deference unwavering, before rising to leave without a glance back.

Inside the palace, the Crown Prince didn’t hide his disdain. His voice dripped with bitterness as he turned to his father. “Even when rewarded, he remains stone-faced. I’ve always hated his self-righteousness.”

Emperor Yuan Qing’s smile was sharp, almost predatory. “With him gone, who will you find to take his place?”

*

Outside the imposing gates of the palace, Li Yong had shed the trappings of his official station, tossing aside the ceremonial hat in favor of tying his hair back with a plain cloth. Hands clasped behind his back, he stood like a man unbothered by the flurry of courtiers scurrying past, projecting cool indifference.

But when two attendants led his youngest son out, that calm façade cracked. His eyes betrayed what his posture didn’t: the storm of worry swirling beneath.

Though he knew his son’s spirit was iron-clad, forged to endure whatever trial came next, Li Yong leaned in, voice tempered with rare paternal softness. “If it gets to you, cry. Don’t hold back.”

Li Xian’s sharp gaze hardened at the unexpected sentiment. Brow furrowed, he shot back, “Why should I cry? Nothing here warrants distress.”

Li Yong straightened, startled by his son’s defiance. “Doesn’t the Crown Prince’s treatment rile you? Doesn’t it sting?”

Li Xian stood firm, his voice resolute. “The Crown Prince’s opinion doesn’t matter. I was appointed by the Emperor to serve in the East Palace, and I served. Now, the Emperor has decided otherwise. I will obey, return home, and honor my duty to you and Mother. That’s all there is.”

Li Yong, troubled, considered pressing the issue. He saw the dangers his son’s strained relationship with the Crown Prince might pose for his future under a new ruler. But Li Xian’s youth gave him pause. What good would it do to burden him now? The truth could wait.

Back at Duke Ningguo’s estate, the family’s reunion was cut short by an unwelcome guest: Cao Shao. Tensions stirred as they exchanged formalities, the atmosphere growing heavier with each passing moment. Yunzhu, increasingly irked by Cao Shao’s relentless prattle about carriages and windlasses, stormed off, leaving Li Yao and Li Xian to follow. Meng shi were left to endure his company.

Later, Meng shi reflected on the day’s visitors, dismissing most as hollow sympathizers. Cao Shao, though well-meaning, was a misfit in their circles—a man too earnest, too straightforward, lacking the finesse to bridge the gulf between his generation.

When Cao Shao finally departed, he shifted his thoughts to a matter weighing heavily on him. Turning to Meng shi, he asked about the matchmaker sent by the Madam of Duke Dingguo in his absence.

Meng shi’s expression darkened with contempt. “That woman? She sent a matchmaker?” Her tone dripped with disdain. “She knows nothing of my resolve. Her schemes mean nothing to me. I won’t play her games.”

Her lips curled into a wry smile as if daring the Madam of Duke Dingguo to try again. “Let’s see if my instincts were wrong,” she declared, her tone firm, unwavering.

*

The capital city basked in the peak of its glory, but its brilliance was doomed to fade. Even after Li Yong's crushing defeat, Cao Xun's army marched forward in unrelenting triumph. Shuozhou and Ganzhou were reclaimed, and with Suzhou and Jiayuguan poised to fall, the Hu people would once again be expelled beyond the nation's borders.

Victory was imminent. The people, resigned to Li Yong's downfall, realized it had scarcely altered the grand course of their lives. As December dawned, the city drowned in New Year preparations, and the once-vocal mockery of Li Yong's three defeats faded into silence.

But Cao Shao bore a heavy weight—an unfulfilled desire that burned deep within him. Gaunt and restless, he approached Pan shi, his voice urgent: "Mother, with the New Year so close, should we summon a matchmaker? If we delay further, my uncle and aunt might suspect our intentions and think we've reconsidered."

Pan shi’s tone was sharp as she rebuked him. "You only think of the Li family. Have you spared a thought for the Emperor's recent dismissal of Duke Ningguo? Rushing this marriage might defy His Majesty's will."

Cao Shao, unwavering, countered, "The Emperor knows of Yunzhu and me. Our marriage is inevitable, given our age and devotion. You, as wise as His Majesty, wouldn't interpret this union as disobedience."

Pan shi's expression turned steely as she reminded him, "Think beyond the Li family. Consider your sister and the Crown Prince. This marriage isn’t just about you."

Cao Shao’s heart sank. He stared at his mother in disbelief, his voice a bitter accusation: "You want to break the engagement, don’t you?"

Abandoning pretense, Pan shi laid her cards bare. "Shao'er, the situation has shifted. The Li family's power is crumbling. Yunzhu is no longer fit for you. Let her go. I will find you someone worthier."

Cao Shao’s retort was instant, fiery. "Never! Our family’s bond with the Lis spans decades. How can you stoop to the level of opportunistic cowards swayed by power? Father would never have condoned this betrayal!"

Unfazed by his outburst, Pan shi maintained her composure. "I am your mother. I would never lead you astray. Choose a wife with virtue—someone who will uplift you, not control you. Yunzhu is self-serving. She’s made a fool of you, and everyone mocks you behind your back."

Cao Shao dismissed her accusations with cold defiance. "That’s between Yunzhu and me. I’ll bear the consequences."

Pan shi’s glare hardened. "I won't tolerate this insolence. I only act for your benefit, even if you fail to see it."

Cao Shao, pacing with restrained fury, softened his tone in a desperate bid to reason. "Mother, I respect your wisdom. Please, approach the Lis and arrange the marriage. Once my promise is fulfilled, I will abide by your wishes in all else."

Pan shi’s scorn was cutting. "She isn’t even your wife yet, and already you defy me. Marry her, and you will lose me as your mother."

Cao Shao’s patience snapped. "Fine. I don’t need your blessing. I’ll find a matchmaker myself."

Pan shi sneered, her words sharp as blades. "Marriage is a parent’s right to decide. Go ahead alone, and you’ll bring shame to the Li family. Li Yao’s wrath will destroy you."

Cao Shao froze, her warning halting him in his tracks. Slowly, he turned back, his defiance waning.

Dropping to his knees beside her, his voice cracked with raw desperation. "Mother, I beg you. Let me marry Yunzhu. I made a vow. Don’t make me break it."

Pan Shi exhaled sharply, reaching out to ruffle her son's hair. "Foolish boy, don't cling to the foolish nonsense we uttered in our reckless youth. A proper woman who values her honor should never have whispered such things in your ear."

To Cao Shao, his mother’s gentle facade now twisted into something dark and calculating. He might carry the title of the beloved Young Imperial Uncle, admired by all, but he would never rule as the master of Duke Dingguo's estate.

*

Pan Shi deliberately avoided causing trouble for the Li family and refused to speak ill of them, even among the noble ladies. Instead, she cut them off completely, choosing to avoid any interaction with the Li family all winter and through March.

At the year's end, when Duke Dingguo's Mansion threw a banquet for relatives and friends, Pan Shi finally had her steward send an insincere, half-hearted invitation to Duke Ningguo's Mansion.

Meng Shi accepted the invitation with icy composure. She knew full well that the first person to lose their cool and start slinging insults would only look weaker in the end.

Deliberately, Meng Shi skipped every banquet at the Cao family's residence, as though they were beneath her notice. What once might have mattered no longer did.

Meng Shi scoffed, unconcerned. Her confidence was unshaken—her beloved daughter would have no trouble securing a marriage worthy of her station.

———TN:

Ugh... Re-translating and editing is awful! I hate it. I’d rather translate and edit at the same time. Fix this!

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