Chapter Nine: Dividing the Spoils

“Brother Liu An, how did you sleep last night?” Lord Zhao greeted Liu An warmly as he invited him to sit down, thoughtfully placing a bowl of plain porridge before him before returning to his seat.

Once seated, Liu An couldn’t help but marvel at the exquisite arrangement of delicate morning treats laid out on the table.

As they ate, the two chatted casually about various sights and amusing anecdotes, the atmosphere light and easy. When their meal concluded and their chopsticks stilled, the maid quietly cleared away the dishes and brought freshly brewed tea to their table, waiting politely for them to rinse their mouths.

“Brother, spend these next few days wandering freely around the city. If anything catches your eye, just tell Xiao Liu; I’ll cover all expenses. On the day after tomorrow, during the ritual, I’ll take you to the Pool of Life for the baptism,” Lord Zhao declared confidently.

Liu An neither refused nor hesitated. Rising, he cupped his hands in thanks with humility and politeness, then followed Xiao Liu, Lord Zhao’s attendant, out of the mansion.

Stepping onto the bustling streets, the endless throng of hurried pedestrians all wore expressions of urgency, as if racing against time.

“Xiao Liu, how populous is this city of yours?” Liu An asked.

“My lord, Linjiang City is the third largest capital in the Wei Kingdom, so naturally it is densely populated. Under the governance of my lord the city master, the people live in peace and prosperity, and commerce thrives. Even my servants feel a sense of pride,” Xiao Liu replied with a hint of pride.

“Then why do none of these passersby smile? And why does every household have a cage covered with red cloth hanging outside their doors?” Liu An inquired.

Xiao Liu explained matter-of-factly, “My lord, the day after tomorrow is the day of the ritual. Those boys and girls in the cages will be the offerings, sacrifices to the divine child. In doing so, the Holy Mother will bless the Wei Kingdom with favorable weather and ensure that the people remain free from illness and disaster.”

Liu An found this explanation absurd and laughable—child sacrifices to protect the people? It reminded him of the blood-powder incident his master had once recounted.

With a calm smile, Liu An asked, “Does this ritual actually work? Are the children truly willing?”

Xiao Liu clasped his hands in fervent prayer, sincerity unfeigned. “Of course. To be embraced by the Holy Mother is a blessing. If I had a family and children, I would do the same.”

Seeing Xiao Liu’s devotion, Liu An realized the faith was less about divine intervention and more a psychological comfort.

“My lord, shall I take you to the lively entertainment district for some amusement?” Xiao Liu suggested.

Though anger simmered within him, Liu An felt both helpless and sorrowful.

“Lead the way. I need to change my mood.”

Soon they left the residential quarters and entered a bustling market street filled with storytellers, opera singers, acrobats, and wandering performers—people from all walks of life.

The tea house echoed with calls of generous patrons showering gifts on a talented performer in one corner. Xiao Liu guided Liu An to an elegant private room on the third floor.

Moments later, servers brought fruit, pastries, and tea before withdrawing. Xiao Liu stood respectfully behind Liu An, who cracked sunflower seeds and watched the stage, occasionally clapping and cheering.

Though unfamiliar with opera, Liu An mimicked the others’ enthusiasm as best he could.

Later, Xiao Liu took Liu An to cockfights and dog shows, sampling every form of amusement until nightfall, when they hurried back to the city master’s mansion.

Perhaps due to the complex ceremonies of the ritual day, the mansion’s reception hall was filled with officials and wealthy gentry deep in discussion.

Lord Zhao, annoyed by the incessant bickering, furrowed his brow and glanced toward the entrance just as Liu An and Xiao Liu returned.

Overjoyed, Lord Zhao beckoned Liu An forward. “Brother Liu An, come here—I want to introduce you to some of the city’s most notable figures.”

Unwilling to embarrass Lord Zhao, Liu An forced a smile and entered the hall.

With hands respectfully folded, he bowed, prompting the previously noisy assembly to rise and return his greeting.

Lord Zhao strode to the doorway, seized Liu An’s arm with familiarity, and said, “I’m sure everyone here has heard that my brother is a direct disciple of the Master. Today, I’m making it clear: there must be a spot reserved for my brother in the Pool of Life. Who opposes this? Who agrees?”

None of those present were fools—invoking the Master’s name left them no choice but to swallow their pride and nod in agreement.

“Very well. The Li family will relinquish a spot for Master Liu An,” declared an elderly man, frail and leaning on a cane, rising with a decisive bang on the table.

The others, initially stunned, quickly accepted the reality, secretly cursing the old fox in their hearts.

The matter was settled. Rather than create enmity, it was wiser to go with the flow and foster goodwill.

Lord Zhao’s expression darkened, a flicker of murderous intent flashing unnoticed as he stared at the old man.

The elderly patriarch of the Li family, perceptive despite his clouded vision, met Lord Zhao’s gaze unflinchingly and smiled.

“Well then, let’s end today’s meeting here. Everyone, prepare yourselves,” Lord Zhao said, clearly signaling dismissal. The rest had no choice but to take their leave.

They all bade farewell to Lord Zhao but did not neglect to approach Liu An, hoping to become acquainted.

When it came to the venerable Li patriarch who had given up a spot, he grasped Liu An’s hands tightly, inviting him to visit his home—a blatant challenge to Lord Zhao, spoken loudly as if to ensure Zhao could hear.

Lord Zhao clenched his fists and slammed them onto a nearby table.

“You old dog, I’ve already given you face. Don’t think that because you have the Prime Minister backing you, you can run roughshod over me.”

“Lord Zhao, I heard your father has recently fallen into trouble and might lose his official position. You think using Liu An’s status as the Master’s disciple to shield your family is bold indeed,” the old man retorted, tearing open their fragile truce.

The tension in the room became palpable, as if drawn swords were about to clash.

Lord Zhao’s expression flickered with uncertainty. Slowly unclenching his fists, he trembled slightly as he grasped Liu An’s sleeve.

“Brother Liu An, don’t listen to this old dog’s slander. My father is the Prime Minister, fearless of any trouble. Moreover, the Crown Prince is about to be enthroned, destined to inherit the empire.”

The Li patriarch smiled knowingly, emotionless, then with his son’s support, left the reception hall. Only after the carriage had carried him far from the mansion did he burst into loud laughter.

“Father, why do you laugh?” his son asked.

“I laugh at Zhao, the Prime Minister, who spent his life cautious and prudent, only to be betrayed by his own son. Soon, we’ll spread rumors in the capital that the Crown Prince is colluding with foreign ministers, casting suspicion on the Prime Minister.”

Back inside the mansion, Lord Zhao pondered deeply, unable to grasp why the Li patriarch had departed so decisively, replaying their conversation over and over.

“What did I say that went wrong? Where did I slip? Never mind, I’ll put it aside for now. Brother Liu An, let’s go enjoy ourselves at the Drunken Fragrance Pavilion.”