Chapter 30: It Was For Blue Rabbit That I Called Out

On the way back from the morning court, Zhao Zhao looked at his son as if he were staring at a monster that had descended from the heavens.

He would lean in close, trying to see if Zhao Yi was wearing a human-skin mask. Then, he would pull away, terrified that the bizarre, wicked energy radiating from his rebellious son might be contagious. After holding it in for half the journey, he finally couldn't help himself and grabbed Zhao Yi by the arm.

"Son, tell your father the truth." Zhao Zhao’s expression was grave, as if he were facing an unprecedented crisis. "Have you been possessed by something unclean?"

Zhao Yi cast a sidelong glance at his father, his face full of disdain. "You're the one who's been possessed."

"That’s not it..." Zhao Zhao was so anxious he was practically scratching his head. "Today in the Golden Throne Hall, you made that Nanyue envoy vomit blood on the spot! That arithmetic... hearing it from the back, my legs went weak!"

He circled Zhao Yi, finally slapping his own thigh in distress. "It’s over! If you keep being this formidable, you’re going to end up acting like my father!"

***

Back at the Zhao residence, the family sat together at the dinner table. This time, the atmosphere was warmer than ever before.

His mother, Lady Liu, couldn't stop smiling, piling food into Zhao Yi’s bowl with such fervor it seemed she intended to fatten him up like a hog. The most surprising guest was the patriarch, Old Master Zhao Xiao. This old general, usually as steady as Mount Tai, had personally retrieved a jar of vintage wine from his private collection, sealed away for many years.

"Good lad!" The old master poured a cup for Zhao Yi himself, his clouded eyes filled with undisguised approval and pride. "You’ve brought immense glory to our Zhao family! I’ve hidden this jar for twenty years, and I wouldn't let a soul touch it—until today!"

Zhao Yi chuckled, picked up the cup, and downed it in one gulp. As the fiery liquor hit his throat, a surge of heroic spirit rose within him.

After dinner, Zhao Yi walked out with his hands tucked into his sleeves, strolling leisurely. The streets and alleys, teahouses and taverns, were all buzzing with talk of the earth-shattering battle in the Golden Throne Hall earlier that day.

"Did you hear? That Lord Zhao from the Ministry of War, known as the 'Couplet King'! He made the Nanyue envoy cough up foam right on the spot!"

"That’s not even the half of it! He rattled off ancient, peerless verses one after another, crushing that so-called 'Kirin Prodigy' from Nanyue!"

"The best part was the math problem! 'Chickens and Rabbits in the Same Cage,' 'Han Xin Counting Troops'—I’ve never even heard of such things! That Nanyue scholar was questioned so thoroughly he vomited blood and fainted on the spot!"

Listening to the chatter, Zhao Yi’s mouth curled into a grin that reached all the way to his ears.

***

In high spirits, he strolled to his secret base outside the city. Li Jin and Li Yin, those two fellows, were still their usual selves; Zhao Yi couldn't be bothered with them and went straight to the head craftsman, Master Zhang.

"Young General! Look at this!" Master Zhang, his face full of fervor, carefully held out something wrapped in cloth. As the cloth was lifted, an object the size of a palm, emerald-green and crystal clear, appeared before them.

"Beautiful!" Zhao Yi held it up to the sunlight. Although the edges were still slightly irregular, it possessed the complete texture of modern glass.

"Old Zhang, I have another idea for you." Zhao Yi gestured with his hands. "Let's make some molds—clay or iron will do. Make cups, small bowls, various vases! Pour the molten liquid into them and let it cool into shape!"

"What about the wine?" he asked, looking at Li Jin and Li Yin, who were waiting eagerly nearby.

"Young... Young General, it’s still fermenting! Almost there, almost there!"

Zhao Yi rolled his eyes at them but didn't press the matter. "Old Zhang, tomorrow, I want to see the first batch of finished products made from the molds!"

After issuing these instructions, Zhao Yi returned to the city and met Tian Yi in a secluded teahouse.

"Your subordinate greets you, my lord!" Tian Yi knelt on one knee, his expression respectful.

"Rise." Zhao Yi sipped his tea. "How goes the task?"

"Reporting to my lord, the manor has been bought in secret. Our men have already dispersed into the city and are establishing an initial intelligence network."

"Good." Zhao Yi nodded, pulled a piece of broken glass from his robes, and placed it on the table. "I have a new mission for you."

"Spread the word that a batch of rare treasures from the Western Regions, known as 'Glaze,' will soon be sold in Luoyang." Zhao Yi tapped his fingers on the table rhythmically. "Find the largest, grandest tavern in Luoyang and book the whole place. Send out invitations far and wide, but only to the wealthiest nobles and the biggest merchants."

"Remember, we aren't setting a price." Zhao Yi’s lips curved into a cunning arc. "We are holding an auction!"

"Find someone with a silver tongue to act as a decoy and whip up the atmosphere! Whoever bids the highest gets the treasure!"

"This is the first battle for our 'Shadow Guard,' and our first source of funding. If you botch it, nobody gets paid. If you do it well, everyone gets one hundred taels."

Tian Yi’s heart skipped a beat. He solemnly tucked the piece of glass away and said in a deep voice, "I shall not fail the mission!"

Just as he arrived back at his front door, Zhao Yi saw a familiar figure.

It was Liu Sanwang, the steward of the Duke of An’s estate.

"Lord Zhao, my young mistress invites you to see her."

Upon hearing this, Zhao Yi was delighted and trotted off happily to follow him. When the wife summons, how could he refuse?

Back at the same water pavilion, Chu Yanran was still dressed in a pale green gown, but today, she was accompanied by a dignified, middle-aged man: the Duke of An, Chu Feng.

"Zhao Yi greets the Duke." Zhao Yi performed a proper salute.

"No need for formalities." Chu Feng’s face carried a smile of appreciation. "Old man, I’ve heard all about your performance in the Golden Throne Hall today. Well done!"

After Zhao Yi offered a few modest remarks, he sat down next to Chu Yanran with practiced familiarity. This time, she didn't pull away. In those cold, clear eyes, there was even a hint of uncontrollable curiosity.

"Ahem." Zhao Yi cleared his throat. Seeing her look—wanting to hear more but too embarrassed to ask—he chuckled inwardly. *Oh, you little thing, you think I can't handle you?*

He suddenly leaned in closer and lowered his voice so that only the two of them could hear. "Want to hear the rest of the story?"

Chu Yanran’s ears turned red, but she stubbornly nodded.

"Call me 'brother' and I'll tell you." Zhao Yi wore a devilish grin.

"You!" Chu Yanran’s face turned bright red all at once. Shamed and angry, she clenched her delicate fists.

"Not calling?" Zhao Yi spread his hands in an indifferent gesture. "Fine, then in today's story, I’ll have the Demonic Cult capture Lan Tu, have her ravished first and then killed, then capture Hong Mao and have him sliced to death by a thousand cuts. The end."

"You... you are shameless!" Chu Yanran’s chest heaved with anger, and her eyes welled up with tears.

She looked at Zhao Yi’s roguish face, struggled for a long time, and finally conceded. She turned her head away, not daring to look at him, and squeezed two words through her teeth in a voice as soft as a mosquito’s hum.

"...Brother."

After she finished, she hurriedly added, "I only said it for Lan Tu! Don't get any ideas!"