Tian Hu?
Upon suddenly hearing that name, Wei Yu paused in surprise.
He couldn’t quite recall who that was.
The Eighth Prince reminded him, “Oxhead Mountain. The one who used poison.”
At the mention of poison, Guo Yajun, who had been sitting nearby, raised her head in surprise and then quickly lowered her eyes again, playing dead.
Well, he is a prince—encountering poison should be… normal?
“Oh—him.”
Wei Yu remembered now, though he was curious. “Eighth Brother, what do you want with Tian Hu?”
The Eighth Prince glanced at Guo Yajun.
Wei Yu caught the look and waved his hand. “Just say it. It’s fine.”As a member of the same clan as Guo Xiu, Guo Yajun had even considered turning in her entire extended family… The idea that she’d inform on Wei Yu for Guo Xiu? Wei Yu would sooner believe Tian Hu was a double agent.
Since Ninth Brother said so, the Eighth Prince didn’t hesitate anymore.
He explained the current situation in Yuanyang.
“…If someone could open the gates from inside the city, it would make this battle much easier. At the very least, casualties wouldn’t be too heavy, and we wouldn’t need to spend too much money repairing the city afterward.”
He cast a sidelong glance at Wei Yu. “Tian Hu is still in Yuanyang, right?”
“He is.”
Just making contact with Tian Hu—nothing major. Wei Yu had sent him to Yuanyang for exactly this kind of situation, so he directly told the Eighth Prince to go ask Ding Facai for his contact.
At that, the Eighth Prince gave a cold snort.
He shot Wei Yu a side-eye and said sarcastically, “You’ve got yourself a loyal servant. I asked him before, and he’d rather die than comply. Hmph.”
Wei Yu: …
He blinked and watched as his Eighth Brother left to find the man, clicking his tongue and shaking his head.
As expected of the man he personally promoted—he’d definitely give him a raise later.
After the Eighth Prince left, Guo Yajun glanced thoughtfully at his departing figure, then turned to Wei Yu.
“Your Highnesses came here to clean up the Ji Prefecture bureaucracy. Now that Yuanyang’s fall is just a matter of time, does Your Highness intend to remain in Ziyang County?”
The question was oddly phrased—if he didn’t stay in Ziyang, where else would he go?
Run off to his Second Brother and ask for a job?
Wei Yu wasn’t about to do that.
So he asked in return, “Miss Guo, are you saying I’m no longer welcome?”
“Of course not!” Guo Yajun quickly denied it. “I only thought—this is a great opportunity for Your Highness to make merit. The Oxhead Army was built by you, but now it’s being led by your brothers. If you remain in Ziyang, then when Yuanyang is taken and Guo Xiu brought down… outsiders will only see the credit as belonging to someone else.”
Wei Yu looked at her in surprise.
She seemed genuinely concerned, no trace of falsehood in her expression.
That look—she truly saw herself as one of his people now.
Wei Yu sighed inwardly.
Well, it made sense that Guo Yajun would react this way. If she weren’t loyal to him, if she weren’t thinking in his interest, then he’d consider her untrustworthy.
But still.
There was a condition for that!
The condition being—he, the “master,” would need to have ambition!
Wei Yu looked at her and said sincerely, “Miss Guo, must one live so focused on gain? I came here with my brothers not for personal merit, but for the prosperity of Great Wei and the peace of its people. That alone is enough for me.”
He couldn’t say too directly whether or not he wanted the throne. Talking about that now could get him beheaded. He wasn’t worried for himself, but he had to consider Guo Yajun. As long as his meaning was clear, she’d understand.
Wei Yu thought for a moment and added, “Some pursue fame and fortune, others long for peace and simplicity. What I seek in this life… is only peace of heart. Whether I get credit or not doesn’t matter. If the nation prospers and the people live in peace—whoever achieves that, why fight over it? If my brothers want the credit, they can have it.”
Guo Yajun was a smart woman—well-read and graceful. She should be the type to admire the moon in the mountains, savor tea in the breeze, calm and radiant. Not someone shaped into a cold shell by the darkness of the inner household.
So, surely, she understood what he meant?
Guo Yajun indicated that she did not understand.
She looked at Wei Yu in a daze.
What she heard wasn’t a prince saying he didn’t want the throne—but a young lord, not yet twenty, revealing a magnanimity worthy of being written into the classics.
Whether it was genuine or not—
She could tell.
Her throat suddenly felt dry. She pressed her lips together and asked softly again, “Your Highness’s grand vision… it puts me to shame. But do you know—reaching that state… is like waking from a dream of golden millet?”
How could he not know?
Even in modern society, no country had truly achieved total prosperity and peace for all.
Wei Yu smiled. “Though the road is long, walking it will get us there. Though the task is hard, doing it will make it happen.”
Guo Yajun was silent. “…That’s not something ordinary people can achieve.”
“No, no—that’s where you’re wrong.”
What Wei Yu hated most was people declaring things impossible before even trying.
Facing her questioning eyes, Wei Yu raised his chin and pointed out the window. “Look at the sky out there. Was it ever this bright before? And now, when I show you again—what do you think of the sky?”
Guo Yajun looked toward the sky outside.
Though blocked by high walls, she could still glimpse a patch of it. And seeing that pale, cloud-dappled sky, what she thought of was blue heavens stretching for miles and the boundless spring light outside.
“In the beginning, it’s hard. If you don’t try, all you’ll ever see is this kind of sky. The people of Ji Prefecture used to suffer. But now my brothers and I are here, and what we’re changing—is their lives. Would anyone have believed it before?”
He glanced at the thoughtful Guo Yajun and smiled. “If everyone in this world thought like you do now—if they saw something hard and immediately feared it, assumed it couldn’t be done—would this sky have changed? I rather miss that Madam Hu who once boldly asked me for help.”
At the mention of Madam Hu, Guo Yajun snapped out of her thoughts.
“Your Highness is right. I was being cowardly.”
She smiled bitterly, shook her head, and the smile at her lips turned a bit self-mocking. “Your Highness is too kind to me. So kind, I fear this world won’t tolerate it… I think too much. I want to stay here in Ziyang in place of Chai Jin. I want to help women like me. I even want to reach higher…”
Guo Yajun suddenly stopped.
She looked up at Wei Yu, her eyes filled with hope—and ambition she couldn’t hide.
“Your Highness… do you still need me?”
As the reckoning with Guo Xiu approached, her time as acting magistrate was running out.
Without Wei Yu’s support, her fate would be the same as Guo Xiu’s.
All Guo Yajun wanted was a guarantee from him.
Wei Yu looked at her steadily—then suddenly smiled.
“Have you ever heard this saying, Miss Guo?”
“What saying?”
“I came. I saw. I changed.”