Chapter Fifty-Three: Watching the Turmoil of Chang'an Unfold

The sun was already high in the sky, its lazy rays filtering into a tranquil courtyard in Pingkang Lane. Zhao Mu yawned, slowly rising from his bed with a dazed expression, clearly restless from a night filled with dreams.

Still, he ran his hands through his long hair, slipped on his shoes, and opened the door to greet the bright morning light.

But as soon as the door opened, an inconspicuous servant in gray quietly appeared.

“Sir, you’re awake?”

Zhao Mu glanced over—wasn’t this the night owl who had flitted about last night?

The night owl was dressed again as a servant, holding a basin of freshly drawn cool well water, covered with a cloth, wearing an attentive expression.

“A great sky pirate indeed...” Zhao Mu shook his head with a hint of helplessness. “Yet you always pretend to be a servant in front of me. Have you gotten addicted to the act?”

Though speaking with a teasing tone, Zhao Mu still took the water basin and put it aside, roughly washing his face.

The night owl lowered his voice to report, “Sir, there’s big news at court today!”

“Oh?” Zhao Mu casually wiped his face with the cloth, barely lifting his eyelids.

Of course, there had to be. He had just encouraged the crown prince last night to storm the palace and confront his father, Emperor Li II. If there wasn’t a major upheaval at court today, that would truly be strange.

Splashing water into the courtyard, he finally spoke, “When isn’t there some big affair at court?”

“Stop making a fuss... get to the point.”

“The Crown Prince... didn’t you instruct me last night to spread word of that matter?” The night owl, well versed in his master’s habits, poured a cup of water, then carefully sprinkled some precious snowflake salt from a small pouch into the glass before respectfully handing it to Zhao Mu. “But last night... the Crown Prince emerged unscathed.”

“However, it’s said that after the prince left, His Majesty was furious... yet it seems only the commander of the imperial guards on duty was punished, and the entire imperial army was strictly ordered to seal off the news.”

“And before I could spread the word far and wide, it had already spread throughout Chang’an!”

“So much so that at court today, His Highness the Prince of Wei and...”

The night owl concisely and swiftly recounted all events from last night up until Zhao Mu’s awakening.

Evidently, this servant-dressed night owl knew everything about what transpired at court this morning, as if he had witnessed it with his own eyes.

Hearing this, Zhao Mu’s hand paused briefly in its motion to wipe his face.

But then a slow, playful smile curved at the corners of his mouth.

He casually draped the wet cloth over the well’s edge, stretching widely toward the sunlight.

“Storming the palace... emerging unscathed... punishing salaries and sealing mouths—just as I expected!” he murmured, his eyes sparkling with the excitement of a chess player who sees his opponent fall right into the trap he anticipated. “Li II, oh Li II, I knew you liked this game!”

“But truly worthy of being an emperor for the ages!”

“This move to block the flow and instead let it leak out, luring the snake out in the open—it’s brilliantly played!”

He seemed already to see Prince Li Tai’s stifled fury and frustration, to behold General Hou Junji’s uncertain, trapped demeanor.

“Interesting, truly interesting.” Zhao Mu chuckled softly, walking to the stone table in the courtyard corner, pouring himself a cup of cold tea left over from the night before. He drank it all without complaint.

“Looks like the waters of Chang’an have not only been stirred up but, with the emperor’s gentle press and the crown prince’s commotion, have turned into a kaleidoscope of colors.”

“Good. Just as it should be.” Setting down the cup, his gaze drifted toward the imperial palace, his smile deepening with a detached anticipation. “This drama is only getting more captivating...”

“Watching drama... always watching drama all day long. Honestly, I don’t understand what Master really wants,” the night owl muttered, eyes flickering at the carefree silhouette of his master.

His master could stir up storms with a mere flick of the hand.

With loyal followers like himself, surely ruling a region or at least making waves at court should be no problem.

Yet his master chose to seclude himself in Pingkang Lane’s pleasure quarter...

Spending every day watching the turbulent winds and clouds of the Tang dynasty unfold?

No one could fathom what was truly in his master’s heart.

As the night owl grumbled silently, Zhao Mu had already finished washing, changed into a flowing white robe, loosely tied his hair, and strode out the door.

“小小, let’s go,” he called out with a casual toss of his head to the night owl, who was still lost in thought.

“Come with me to scout talent. Didn’t Qiwu Pavilion get some new girls yesterday from who knows where? I have to see if any are fit to work in our Heavenly Realm...”

“If there are, we’d better bring them over quickly...”

“After all, to truly build the entertainment industry here in Chang’an, cultivating and recruiting talent is crucial...”

“Ah...?” The night owl, now understanding what Zhao Mu meant by ‘scout,’ was momentarily stunned but quickly caught up.

“But Master, with such a huge incident involving the Crown Prince...”

“You still have the heart to go scouting at Qiwu Pavilion?”

Zhao Xuan paused, rolling his eyes.

“The Crown Prince is the Crown Prince, and I am myself. Even if he has the biggest troubles, what do they have to do with me?” He resumed walking, urging, “Hurry up. If we go too late, the good prospects might all be snapped up by Qiwu Pavilion, and then it’ll be hard to recruit!”

The night owl could only shake his head helplessly and follow his master.

Meanwhile, at the palace...

Li Chengqian, just stepping down the long stone steps before the Ganlu Hall with a brisk pace, was about to head straight to Pingkang Lane in search of Zhao Mu when a calm voice called from behind.

“Your Highness.”

Li Chengqian halted and slowly turned around.

He saw his uncle, Changsun Wuji, whose face held no trace of emotion—only his usual gravity—but his sharp eyes roiled with stormy waves barely concealed beneath a calm surface.

Li Chengqian quickly bowed slightly. “Uncle.”

“Would Your Highness accompany me for a walk?” Changsun Wuji asked, stepping forward without waiting for an answer.

Seeing this, Li Chengqian silently followed.

A long silence stretched between them, broken only by the crisp sound of boots striking stone slabs.

It wasn’t until they reached the edge of the Taiye Pool, where willows brushed the water, that Changsun Wuji stopped, his gaze as piercing as a hawk’s fixed on the glaring purple bruise on Li Chengqian’s forehead.

“What exactly happened last night inside Ganlu Hall?” Changsun Wuji’s voice dropped low, laden with a penetrating force.

“And this injury on your forehead, was it truly inflicted by His Majesty?”

Li Chengqian met his uncle’s gaze calmly. “Yes.”

“Why?” Changsun Wuji pressed, his tone growing more urgent. “What exactly did you say?”