Chapter 946: Is the Party Over? (5)

DOOM...! DOOM...! DOOM...!

A master struck the drum three times.

Then the old eunuch standing before the platform drew in a deep breath—hwooo—and, in a booming, severe voice no one would have ever imagined from his usual honeyed tone, shouted so loudly it rang through the air.

“By Heaven’s mandate, the Emperor proclaims.”

Qing waited one beat, then spoke aloud—

「The peace of the realm is the merit of its generals.

Among all duties, guarding the borders is the most critical of heavy charges.

Therefore, one must obtain a hero steadfast and valiant, outstanding in strategy, and entrust the task to him with full confidence.

The Jurchen man Noihapjeok’s loyalty and martial prowess are known throughout the world, and his renown is great.

I admire his talent and appoint him Northern Grand General, to command and unify all armies.

Lead the soldiers and horses of the north, execute orders with fairness, govern the host, and bring peace to the people.

Let all commanders of the north obey his commands and not defy them.」

At that, the man kneeling at the very front raised both arms high and cried out.

“I accept Heaven’s command! Long live! Long live! Long live!”

If Qing had studied the physiognomy of this era, she might have noticed that his face was the very definition of a “wolf-back face.”

And what was a wolf-back face?

A face of treason—one that would crack you over the back of the head and stab you in the back the moment you showed an opening!

She might have admired it.

But how would Qing know real physiognomy?

The man offered a deep bow four times in a row.

Then, on the fifth bow, he suddenly stretched his arms out to brace his upper body—still kneeling, like someone doing push-ups—then knocked his head to the ground three times.

Lowering your head while prostrate—this was the Central Plain rite known as the kowtow.

Five bows, three knocks.

The Five Bows and Three Kowtows—an imperial rite directed at the Son of Heaven.

“By Heaven’s mandate, the Emperor proclaims.”

「Thus do I bestow the Grand General’s banner and one set of tiger tallies, as proof of this honored appointment.

This is my will, and Heaven’s command.

You, my people, uphold my will.」

When Qing finished, the man sprang up and climbed onto the platform.

He knelt before Qing.

Because when receiving the battle-axe, a Grand General could ascend to the same height as the Son of Heaven.

War was the nation’s most crucial matter—and when the army went to war, it meant the troops must treat the Grand General as they would the Son of Heaven.

That was why becoming Grand General was sometimes described as “ascending the Son of Heaven’s steps.”

Behind Qing, an inspector handed her the ceremonial battle-axe.

A “battle-axe” was supposed to be—well—an axe.

But Qing looked at it and thought, Mm. This doesn’t look like an axe.

Isn’t that... a shovel?

A shovel. And not even a normal one—a field shovel.

On the end of a red-lacquered haft, the “blade” wasn’t mounted sideways like an axe head, but attached on top like a spear point, jutting upward along the shaft’s direction.

No matter how she looked at it, it didn’t seem like you could chop anything with it at all.

But it also clearly wasn’t meant for real combat.

The “blade” glittered with bright gold, and the joint where it met the haft was carved jade—pretty enough to make you worry it would shatter with a single drop.

Anyway.

When Qing offered it forward, the man—the great chieftain of the Aisin Gioro clan, Noihapjeok—raised both hands and accepted it with utmost respect.

And if you pronounced his name in the Jurchen way?

This was the historic moment when Aisin Gioro Nurhachi offered the Five Bows and Three Kowtows to the Son of Heaven of the Central Plain and received appointment as Northern Grand General.

Of course, Qing felt absolutely nothing.

Nurhachi? Aisin Gioro Nurhachi?

Ten whole characters?

What a weird name. Hard to say...

It wasn’t that Qing was ignorant.

It was that even if she recognized it, it would be useless trivia with no practical value.

*****

In the Jurchen—more precisely, Jin Kingdom—style traditional wedding, only the groom stays busy.

The ceremony is held outdoors, while the bride and her family sit in the inner room and watch from above, doing nothing at all.

Which meant Qing sat in the inner room with the bride, watching the banquet.

Wait. Why?

She thought she was a guest, but she was the bride’s family?

But yes.

They were family.

They knew the “Yeonsul” being sent was fake, yet still recognized her as Yeonsul and sent her in a marriage-alliance procession—an ancient Central Plain tradition: adopt a daughter, then send her in a diplomatic marriage.

And the real Yeonsul was no longer a princess.

She was the former Yeonsul, the current Royal Censor, Seomun Cheonhwa.

So the current Princess Yeonsul and the former Princess Yeonsul weren’t blood-related, but they were still family.

In the awkward atmosphere, Qing stared outside with blatant envy.

The guests sat in the courtyard eating and drinking, while the groom bustled around refilling cups.

And you didn’t drink alone—you drank together.

The groom had to refill each guest’s cup three times before moving on.

Mm. I can drink too.

So why is there no alcohol in here?

Shouldn’t the bride’s waiting room obviously have alcohol too?

The bride can’t drink?

Then what about the bride’s friend sitting next to her?

Of course, the groom wasn’t drinking either, so saying it out loud would make her sound insane, but still.

“Royal Censor Seomun.”

Yeonsul called to Qing softly.

“Yes?”

“Would you be willing to show your face? They say your beauty is so magnificent you can contend for the finest under heaven.”

Mm. The princess must be bored.

Which was only natural.

Qing lifted her face veil.

Yeonsul stared at her blankly.

Then Yeonsul lifted her own veil as well, revealing her face.

Her revealed face and neck were mottled with red and purple blotches, covered in countless marks that looked like blunt needles had pressed into her skin—pockmarked scars.

And yet her beauty was undeniable.

If not for her skin, she could have been famed as a peerless beauty of the world without the slightest shame.

“So? Do we look a bit alike?”

“Uh... mm.”

“Is my skin making it hard to say? With powder, we’d look rather similar. Or what if you simply cover your face? Wearing something so large and heavy makes my shoulders ache every day. You feel it too, don’t you?”

“It is... inconvenient, yes.”

“Right? Is it only the shoulders? Sweat builds up underneath all the time—sticky. In summer, it’s hot so you sweat. In winter, you layer up so you sweat. And that’s not all. You can’t see below, so you’re always stubbing your toes. If you spill food, it drops right onto your front and gets filthy. And when you sleep, is it comfortable? If you lie on your stomach, it presses and hurts. If you lie on your side, it shifts and pulls. And if you lie on your back, breathing gets uncomfortable.”

It suddenly turned into a Large Chest Complaint Hour.

Qing didn’t find it that relatable.

Back in her first year out in the martial world—early on—it might’ve been like that, but by her second year she’d already been a Peak martial artist, so even carrying some weight wasn’t—

Still, the sweat part...

A master doesn’t really sweat from heat anymore, but sweat that seeps out naturally when skin rubs against skin was a different problem...

But she had experienced it before, which was more than enough qualification to agree.

And besides, she couldn’t exactly say, “I’m a master so it doesn’t bother me, Princess, you should become a master too,” could she?

Status aside, that was just the kind of thing only a socially blind bastard would say.

So Qing nodded along.

Right, right. God, there are days I want to just rip them off. Oh, a master is fine with it? Try getting your chest cut off and then talk. It hurts like hell, and it’s a weakness too—a weakness.

Yeonsul covered her mouth.

“Oh my.”

“Yes. Exactly. But no matter how inconvenient it is... I’m truly glad I was born carrying them. Because of that.”

Yeonsul smiled faintly and continued—

“Because of that, someone base like me gets to live while receiving treatment this precious, Your Highness.”

“...What?”

“My birth was low, so I learned, at least a little, how to win the hearts of those who are low. That is my knack for overhearing what’s said in the palace.”

Shock—Yeonsul had known Qing’s identity from the beginning.

Well. “Shock” might be too strong, but still.

Qing scratched the back of her head awkwardly.

“Ah. So you knew...”

“I wished to offer you my thanks. But I feared you might hate me, so I pretended not to know until now. Please forgive my pettiness.”

“No, no. It’s fine. And what are you thanking me for? You were doing something I didn’t want to do—I should be the one thanking you.”

Yeonsul’s lips curved gently.

“All this time, I wondered. What kind of person must you be, that there is no one in the palace who does not love you? Once, I thought you were simply born noble and lived only receiving love, and that the world was truly cruel. But now I understand.”

Yeonsul reached out and held Qing’s hand tightly.

Sometimes, one action conveys more than a hundred words.

They held hands in silence.

*****

How long had it been?

At last, the wedding ceremony reached its final stretch.

It was time for the groom to kneel in the courtyard before the room where the bride sat and shout aloud.

“A man is more base than a woman, and a woman is a noble one more exalted than a man! So, noble lady—grant mercy to this base one!”

At that, the guests burst into laughter.

From what Qing had heard, this was the real traditional wedding style people barely did anymore—the wedding rites of the Jin Kingdom, an ancient Jurchen dynasty.

Mm. Her master should have seen this.

“Apparently there used to be a country called the Jin Kingdom.”

If Ximen Surin had heard it, she would’ve clicked her tongue and said that those Jin Kingdom barbarian bastards were the kind of people where, if the father died, the son inherited the mother as a wife—though after a diplomatic marriage involving Xi Shi, biological sons couldn’t inherit their own biological mother anymore, but still—women were treated like property.

Then she would’ve launched into a whole lecture about how the Central Plain wasn’t any better when it came to women.

After that, it was supposed to be time for the bride’s family—normally the father-in-law—to give words of blessing.

But the father-in-law was over there in the Forbidden City.

He’d sent a proxy.

So who was supposed to speak?

Qing sat there awkwardly, looking at Aisin Gioro.

Normally, this was the moment where the groom listened to the bride’s elders.

But there were no other elders.

Inside the side room, Qing sat there alone.

So that’s it? That old eunuch sold me? You son of a bitch—just you wait...

“Um. Congratulations. And... have a happy married life...? Live well?”

“Thank you.”

“Mm.”

If she’d married before entering the martial world, maybe she’d know what to say.

But she didn’t.

And even if she did, what would it matter?

It’s not like she could give some universal advice about two different people living together—compromise, boundaries, blah blah blah—like it would mean anything here.

Qing blinked awkwardly.

Then—

“Allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Aisin Gioro Noihapjeok. And you, Madam?”

“Ah. I’m Seomun Cheong.”

Noihapjeok tilted his head.

“Cheong... Cheong... It feels strangely familiar, like it fits in the mouth. Mm. A truly good name. Truly—a genuinely good name. I don’t know why, but it settles on the tongue so perfectly. Cheong—clear and blue. Cheong—vivid and bright. Cheong... Cheong... How is it so perfect, a name fit to be called by Heaven’s mandate of any dynasty...”

Qing got full-body goosebumps.

What the hell—why is he doing that with someone else’s name?

Is this... that? The creepy thing?

Is this what you say when you meet the bride’s elder on your wedding day?

“Ah, excuse me. I have no other intent—only that the moment I heard it, I was struck with awe and could not hold back my admiration.”

What’s so awe-inspiring about someone’s name?

Whatever. He said he knew it was rude, so she let it slide.

“I heard you are known as the Son of Heaven’s trusted confidant. Is that true?”

“No? That’s the first I’m hearing of it.”

“It isn’t? I heard you are someone who can send word directly to His Majesty.”

“Ah. That part is true.”

“...?”

That was what people usually called a confidant.

Noihapjeok paused, then his expression turned serious.

“Then I will confess something now.”

A deep crease formed between Qing’s brows.

No, you little—

“In truth, I received a proposal from someone who calls himself the Soul-Seizing Demon Emperor.”

“...The Heart-Eating Demon?”

“Yes. The Heart-Eating Demon said he would help rebuild the Jin Kingdom. This is the yearning of our people—how could I refuse such an offer?”

Qing stared into Noihapjeok’s eyes.

What is this?

A trap?

Is he picking a fight?

“Of course, it was not a proposal I could accept blindly. The Central Plain is strong—how could we rebuild a dynasty? So I demanded that your Blood Cult prove its power. He said he would erase the marriage-alliance procession by attacking it before it reached this land.”

“...You knew there would be an attack?”

“A whole people submitting to another people—this required certainty from me as chieftain. If the Central Plain is strong, it will easily repel an attack. And if the Central Plain cannot even stop the attack of a mere heterodox cult, then why should we enter beneath the Central Plain at all?”

Suddenly, Captain Pori’s words surfaced in Qing’s mind.

When he thanked her for luring and defeating the Heart-Eating Demon, he’d said, ‘We know the Heart-Eating Demon’s strength well, but—’

At the time, Qing hadn’t thought much of it.

But now that she did...

The Heart-Eating Demon’s true strength wasn’t something even the Central Plain martial world properly understood—if they did, they would’ve revised the Ten Great Masters list immediately.

So how would Jurchen cavalry know it?

“Wait. But a lot of Eight Banners warriors were injured.”

“For that, I offer my deepest thanks. We did not anticipate an attack even after the marriage-alliance procession had already reached this land. Thanks to you, we avoided a great calamity.”

Noihapjeok bent at the waist and lowered his head, exposing the crown of his head in a deeply respectful bow.

But... mm.

Did he really not know?

Even if he was welcoming a marriage-alliance procession, did he truly choose only the highest elites of his strongest forces and send them as an escort merely to “look good”?

“I confess now because, at this point, our Grand General’s Office is on the same boat as you, are we not? The Blood Cult could exploit this later, so I am telling you first. Still, simply confessing does not erase the fact that I attempted to bargain while leaving bandits in the dark.”

It was shameless.

But Noihapjeok continued, unflinching.

“Please report this to His Majesty. They proposed that if we raised troops and restored the Jin Kingdom, the Northern Yuan would aid us. That is proof the Mongol barbarians are in contact with the Blood Cult—and a sign they intend to invade the Central Plain again. Is that not sufficient merit to balance my fault?”