The opera stage was permanently set up in the spacious courtyard within the garden, beautifully decorated and realistically arranged with designated areas for musicians and opera performers, proportionately organized. The seating area was arranged with tables for dining and drinking. Today, Prince Zhao Lu, with his stern and attractive demeanor, was seated at a table next to the emperor. The seat reserved for the crown prince remained unoccupied, causing Prince Zhao Lu to look at that prestigious seat with visible irritation, yet he managed to restrain his emotions in front of his father.

    The women sat together, composed and dignified, clearly segregating men and women. The main table was for the Empress Dowager and the Empress, both appearing content and radiant. While they seemed harmonious and affectionate at the forefront, the reality behind the scenes was quite the opposite. Next in line was Imperial Consort Qi Guifei, beautiful but pale from illness. Following her were the other concubines, ranked and seated accordingly down to the wives of officials, arranged by their husband’s ranks. Each had their attendants standing slightly behind. Jiaojiao was positioned so Prince Zhao Lu could clearly see her.

    Jiaojiao dressed more exquisitely than when she had gone to pray at the temple. Her gown was embroidered with silver and gold, radiant with gemstones adorning her hair, and her makeup subtly highlighting her youthful beauty. Jiaojiao never glanced at the prince, instead engaging joyfully in conversations with her sisters and noble girls, further agitating Prince Zhao Lu.

    "Grand Chancellor Yang Gong and family request an audience."

    Gonggong announced loudly and resonantly, accurately stating the positions and names of each noble present. The ladies and their attendants were directed to their designated seats. As Furen sat down at their tables, Yang Jiurong, who had been hiding behind her mother all along, suddenly shone like the moon emerging from behind clouds.

    Though Jiaojiao was considered beautiful, when Yang Jiurong made her appearance, she instantly eclipsed her.

    The eyes of everyone watching the opera stopped and turned to gaze upon Yang Jiurong, whose beauty was unparalleled. Her black captivating eyes were enchanting, even the sweetest honey could not be compared to hers. Prince Zhao Lu was so struck by her presence that he stood up impulsively, his heart pounding like war drums, completely forgetting Jiaojiao as he eagerly sought to know who that lady was.

    Once seated, Yang Jiurong observed her surroundings, looking far and wide. She saw palaces so grand that even craning her neck, she couldn't see their tops. Despite being prepared, the opulence and grandeur of the royal palace left her amazed that she could not even blink. Gazing towards the throne, she saw the emperor surrounded by his consorts, each adorned more beautifully than any painting, yet the emperor's pale face resembled more a corpse than a living sovereign. Though he wore a vibrant dragon robe, it gave the impression of a funeral shroud rather than regal attire.

    "Sister Wushuang," she whispered, calling out to her elder relative excitedly, but Wushuang, following her mother's instructions, deliberately ignored her younger cousin and showed no interest in engaging with her. However, all her resolve melted away when crown prince Zhao Chenfeng stepped onto his esteemed seat, exuding the aura of a majestic dragon. His face was more handsome than any man she had known, instantly attracted attention. Compared to prince Zhao Lu, whose face was slightly pale due to his love for drinks and ladies, could not compete with the dragon-like charisma of Zhao Chenfeng.

    Struck by awe, Wushuang stared because the regal and intimidating Zhao Chenfeng also glanced at her, his powerful gaze immobilizing everything around him, deeply impressing Wushuang. Though she tried to maintain the decorum expected of a highborn lady, her heart throbbed passionately.

    "Look, the crown prince is gazing at you unwaveringly," Sheng Niangzi whispered to her daughter delightedly. "He must be smitten with you."

    Blushing, Wushuang dared not meet Zhao Chenfeng's gaze directly. When she turned to Yang Jiurong, who was holding her head suspiciously high, raised Wushuang’s suspicion. Wushuang followed her cousin's gaze and realized whom Zhao Chenfeng's attention was truly fixed upon.

    Wushuang pursed her lips. Yang Jiurong, while outwardly protesting against marriage, was clearly eyeing the position beside the crown prince. Understanding why her mother had forbidden her from associating with Yang Jiurong, Wushuang realized her cousin was a hypocrite.

    "Mother, it's not me the crown prince is fond of."

    "Then who is it?"

    "Jiu Rong."

    Yang Jiurong, brimming with a combative spirit and exuding an unfriendly aura, held her head high in defiance. Zhao Chenfeng, observing from his elevated position, saw the petite young lady challenging him like a street gangster. He sighed internally, wondering what experiences had shaped such a fierce yet enchanting character.

    Prince Zhao Lu, yearning for the beautiful lady, seized the opportunity to negotiate directly with Yang Gong.

    "I wish to take your niece as my wife. What do you think, Master Yang Gong?"

    Yang Gong, concealing a smile, feigned reluctance, "She's only fifteen, too young. I cherish her more than my own eyes. It would pain me greatly to part with her."

    "I would elevate her to my primary consort, ensuring her utmost care."

    Eager and impatient, Prince Zhao Lu was unable to calm down. Yang Gong, seeing his plan unfold, he agreed, "I believe the prince would make an excellent husband. I am willing to entrust her to your care."

    Prince Zhao Lu was overjoyed as if he had received a marvelous gift, so delighted that he could hardly express his feelings, constantly stealing glances at Yang Jiurong, who was enjoying the opera beside her mother and siblings near the stage. Apart from Prince Zhao Lu, Prince Zhao Chenfeng also frequently looked her way.

    Despite being the focus of their attention, Yang Jiurong was unaware, still laughing joyfully with her siblings. It was said that her bright smile even brought a grin to the usually stern crown prince's face. Occasionally, he laughed out loud, remembering her antics near the temple wall, realizing her mischievous nature starkly contrasted her current serene demeanor. Yet, her radiant beauty was undeniable, even the empress complimented her perfection. The empress turned to her son then casually spoke the phrase of the golden branch and jade leaves, which its meaning was the perfect match,

    The crown prince, with his sharp, hawk-like eyes, neither acknowledged nor denied anything but kept his gaze fixed on the young girl, deep in thought.

    "She's the niece of Yang Gong, isn't she?" whispered Princess Bao Qin, covering her mouth with a round fan while talking with her younger brother, her red lips curving upward on one side. "She's very suitable. Her eyes sparkle with strength. I'm sure she will fulfill your wishes."

    "I think so too," he agreed.

    When the opera ended, it was time for the dance performance by the beautifully dressed dancers. Men, young and old, applauded and admired them. The dancers, in their exquisite and ornate costumes, danced around Prince Zhao Chenfeng's table, but he remained indifferent to everything before him, sitting upright and majestic, cool as gold, and gestured for them to step back. Yang Jiurong, though not intentionally watching, couldn't help but think him to be truly heartless.

    The dancers and musicians provided great joy to the guests, making the celebration even more lively and exciting, especially when nobles with achievements were called forward to receive awards from the emperor. The most notable among them was Yang Shaolong.

    "The position of Royal Guard is significant, and it's advantageous to have energetic young men serving. Father has Yang Shaoming, Zhao Region is like a tiger with wings. His two years of training the Royal Guards have produced countless skilled soldiers. I wish for the emperor to bestow a ceremonial horse upon Yang Shaoming as a reward, please."

    "Granted as requested."

    Prince Zhao Chenfeng proposed the award himself, causing Yang Gong to grow uneasy because the crown prince suddenly offered a reward seemingly without cause. When Yang Gong exchanged looks with Prince Zhao Lu, his eyes showed suspicion, prompting Yang Gong to panic, realizing he was under scrutiny, and quickly instructed his nephew not to kneel for receiving the award.

    "Bring in the horse!"

    Yang Shaoming, a horse enthusiast, immediately recognized the quality of the prize horse. It was tall and majestic, with a flaming red coat, unmatched in speed like a soaring dragon, adept at climbing and fording, as effortless as running on flat land. Overjoyed and without thorough contemplation of the potential trap, Yang Shaoming was thrilled with the horse and repeatedly knelt to express his gratitude.

    Prince Zhao Lu glared at Yang Gong immediately before stepping forward to assert his presence, trying to compete with Zhao Chenfeng.

    "Your Majesty, the achievements of Ming Xian and Ming Linfu in pacifying the border regions are evident. Both have devoted their strength and hearts to our land, demonstrating loyalty and deserving acclaim. I propose that they be appointed as General of the East Force and General of the North Force, enhancing Your Majesty's glory and intimidating our foes."

    "Prince Zhao Lu speaks wisely. I agree with this proposal."

    The Empress Dowager clearly sided with her nephew. Especially, now that the crown prince had lost some influence and she decisively showing who she supports, Yang Gong and Sima Jing’s factions stood taller, emboldened. The positions of two commanders are significant, controlling several hundred thousand soldiers. Zhao Lu wanted his people in these positions. Ming Xian and Ming Linfu, though young, had proven track records. The emperor would surely grant the request.

    "Is this your idea, or someone else's?"

    "Father, why would you say that..."

    "Your uncle Jing taught you, right? If you plan to act but always need other’s wisdom, you shouldn't proceed."

    Zhao Lu felt as if he'd been slapped. All this time, whenever the emperor discussed state affairs, Zhao Lu was the only one who could respond promptly and fluently, thanks to Sima Jing's preparation. Knowing this, Zhao Chenfeng bribed a close associate of Zhao Lu to steal Sima Jing's notes. The emperor, upon learning this, despised Sima Jing, and Zhao Lu inadvertently lost favor.

    "What does Taizi think about the proposal by prince Zhao Lu?"

    "Ming Xian and Ming Linfu, the two brothers, are both talented and skilled in combat, truly excellent. They deserve to be rewarded with jewels, a royal marriage, and lands as compensation. However, the position of a general is vital, tied to the emperor's dignity. Giving it away lightly might encourage recklessness in youth. Instead, let's make it a prize for which they must compete. If they can achieve specific goals, they will earn both reputation and honor. Please, Emperor, consider this."

    "Good. Stimulate the young to achieve. Proceed as you suggest."

    "Yes, Your Majesty."

    With just a few words, crown prince Chenfeng managed to advocate for Ming Xian and Ming Linfu. From now on, their achievements would be reported by Taizi to grant for a position, a strategy subtly creating resentment towards prince Zhao Lu. Prince Zhao Lu cast a wary glance at Sima Jing, eventually settling his gaze on Yang Gong.

    "I don't favor the two-faced. The horse I gave your nephew last month might not be necessary anymore." Caught off guard, Yang Gong struggled for a response. He quickly resorted to presenting Yang Jiurong.

    "Your Highness, on this auspicious day, you have graciously arranged a feast celebrating both civil and military officials. With exceptional performances in opera and dance, the atmosphere is delightful. I propose to enhance it with an extraordinary zither performance, elevating the spirits of these accomplished officials."

    "An extraordinary zither performance? I haven't heard of it."

    "Although Your Majesty has witnessed countless dances and music, the one to play the zither today is my niece. Would Your Highness care to listen?"

    "That sounds interesting. Let's hear it."

    "Jiu Rong, come forth."

    Startled, Yang Jiurong composed herself and approached, bowing. "Greetings, Your Highness, and empress. May you thrive. I am Yang Jiurong… seeking permission to perform."

    "Play a piece for me. If it pleases me, you shall be rewarded."

    "Thank you, Your Majesty." She signaled her maid. "Bring me the 'Radiant Swan.'"

    "This zither has a name?"

    "Yes, it is called 'Radiant Swan'. An ancient instrument I received from Master Mu Yongdan."

    "Mu Yongdan? The grand maestro of music?"

    "Yes, Your Majesty. Although my skill is not nearly a fraction of my master's, I am pleased to perform for you. Please, Your Majesty and all, kindly critique." Yang Jiurong was seated in a pavilion, surrounded by fragrant flowers. Her delicate movements along the zither strings produced a sweet, melodious sound, her bright smile reflecting her passion for music.

    As she reached a state of deep focus, her fingertips began to glide like water, playing a tune unfamiliar yet enchanting, with high pitches like a storm and low ones stirring even the stoniest hearts. She played the ancient zither with an aim to reach artistic perfection, flowing with the intricate melody that carried listeners into a trance, immersing them in the ambiance. Everyone understood without doubt why she was the heir to the 'Radiant Swan'.

    Suddenly, a string snapped, halting the heavenly music. Wushuang turned away, battling guilt, while everyone else held their breath in anticipation of Yang Jiurong's next move. She responded with a gentle smile and began to sing:

    Heaven bestows kindness, from infants to the elderly, all are touched by faith.

    Divine power unpredictable, all in Zhao Region flourish under imperial grace.

    Her crystal-clear voice captivated prince Zhao Lu, who exclaimed that her voice had completely ensnared his heart. Just the sound of her sublime song and her graceful appearance were a profound delight. Rising to applaud, he lavished praise non-stop. Seeing the object of her affections so easily swayed, Jiaojiao pinched her skirt in frustration.

    "This poetry could only belong to paradise, seldom heard on this earth."

    Yang Jiurong bowed, humbly responding, "I thank the prince for his compliments. My talents are modest, and I am embarrassed before all here."

    "The music you played is unfamiliar to me. Did you compose it anew?"

    "No, Your Majesty. It is an arrangement by my master, inspired by tribal songs beyond our borders."

    "Barbarians lack refinement. Why would Mu Yongdan stoop to adopt their tunes?" The emperor, having waged wars against border tribes, disapproved of her choice to play this tune.

    "We often cherished the unknown. Our world brims with supreme music, some adapted from foreign lands. My master said to understand a people, listen to their music. Though not superior to our ancient heritage, border tribe’s music can reflect back on us. Broadening our artistic understanding is always beneficial."

    "Hmm... To know the enemy and know oneself ensures victory in every battle. Excellent indeed."

    Applause and acclamation came from all directions, giving Yang Gong some encouragement as his niece flawlessly displayed her talents before prince Zhao Lu. Crown prince Zhao Chenfeng closed his eyes, absorbing the zither's melody until the song ended. He offered no overt praise, yet nor did he show rejection. The empress observed her adopted son intently, then issued a subtle command,

    "Cut the bamboo, left no shoot; kill the father, left no child. For grand schemes, one must be ruthlessly decisive, showing no weakness for the sake of women."

    “…”

    Zhao Chenfeng remained silent. The empress, adept in judging character, scrutinized the Yang family members with a sharp gaze. "Yang Shaoming is a man of towering stature, reminiscent of a noble but dimwitted lion, like a fine horse. Yet, compared to his sister, she is more akin to an ox. Oxen are better than horses, don't you agree?"

    "I concur fully with Your Majesty."

    Zhao Chenfeng understood the empress's implication: no matter how fine a horse is, it can only carry one rider, whereas an ox can bear heavy loads over millions furlong, outstripping any single person's weight.[1]

    The tall figure closed his eyes. When he opened his eyes once again, he made up his mind.

    "How old are you this year?" The emperor asked. Overwhelmed, for she remembered her grandfather's intention to betroth her to prince Zhao Lu, Yang Jiurong hesitated, prompting Yang Gong to nudge her for an answer.

    "Jiu Rong.”

    "Fift… fifteen, Your Majesty."

    "Fifteen is the golden age that never returns. Has your grandfather chosen someone for you? Are you interested in my son?"

    "I..."

    "What do you say?"

    Yang Jiurong bowed her head, not answering, her cheeks flushed not with shyness but with the urge to cry. However, prince Zhao Lu, elated beyond measure, was confident he would claim her. Before Yang Gong could announce it, crown prince Chenfeng descended from his chancel with dignified grace and stopped before her.

    Authoritative… yet icy.

    The man with sharp, godlike visage touched her cheek with a warm, firm hand that could easily lift her if he wished. His gentle, radiant smile was blinding, enchanting. He presented a beautiful jade bracelet, with a gold loop that has a royal seal on it, and personally fastened it around her wrist amid the watchful eyes of many. It was thus acknowledged: Yang Jiurong, the Grand Chancellor's eldest niece, was betrothed to the crown prince.

    Yang Jiurong was astonished, unable to grasp what was transpiring or why there was an uproar around her.

    "Congratulations, Miss Yang. You are indeed fortunate."

    Amid the surrounding acclamations, Shen Fengyi abruptly rose from his seat, overtaken by emotion, glaring at his high-ranking relative with bitter resentment. Yang Gong was the sole figure burdened with a gloomy countenance as if awaiting execution, given his prior agreement to betroth his niece to prince Zhao Lu. Though Yang Gong contemplated objection, he realized that the realm's dignitaries had already set his sights on his niece, and he dared not bestow her upon anyone else.

    Like oil and water, they could never blend. Yang Gong was anxious, watching his beautiful niece beside Zhao Chenfeng, aware that the Yang family would never bow to him—a crown prince not of pure imperial lineage.

    "You belong to me... This is your fate."

    Zhao Chenfeng’s whisper was almost inaudible, fleeting like a passing breeze, causing Yang Jiurong's mind to freeze momentarily. She would later understand that his gaze was as cold as his heart, just like what his reputation suggested. The smile he offered was merely a scene in a play, destined to cause her profound anguish for a lifetime.

[8] Refer to the ability to handle heavy burden.