Chapter 123: I Am in Kyoto

The half-drawn windbreaker curtain fluttered, and the servant attending Prince Wei's meal glanced outside. His mouth fell open, eyes shimmering with a captivated and awestruck glow, as if he had glimpsed the Celestial Maiden herself in the empty pilgrimage grounds. Li Ce stood firm and turned around. Such a gaze could only be inspired by his beloved. Indeed, the scarlet fox cloak billowing in the wind was hers; her beauty bloomed like a peony in full glory; she rode boldly, exuding an untamed spirit—she was his cherished one. Yet—

"Your Highness," Qing Feng whispered softly, "it seems the Marquis of Wu hasn't brought any food."

Ye Jiao approached on horseback, a small bundle strapped behind her. The saddlebag beneath the horse bulged conspicuously, but it hardly looked like it contained a meal box.

"Oh no," Qing Feng wiped the sweat from his brow, "Is she here just to mooch a meal?"

No matter, Li Ce thought inwardly. Her presence was worth more than any food. At worst, they could shamelessly dine alongside Prince Wei. With that in mind, Ye Jiao dismounted nimbly.

Hearing the movement, Consort Yan Shuangxu lifted the carriage curtain.

"Jiao Jiao!" Her voice brimmed with warmth. "You've come just in time—join Prince Wei for the meal. It's bitterly cold; a hot meal will warm your body."

"Has the Marquis of Wu arrived?" Wei Wang Li Chen, who had just taken his seat, came out to greet Ye Jiao. "Come, come—the food is cooling. Try the braised lion's head."

Li Ce stepped forward, but Ye Jiao politely declined them all: "Thank you for your kindness, but I have brought my own food."

She unfolded the bundle behind her and revealed a clay hotpot, about a foot in diameter, with twin handles. She tossed the pot to Qing Feng and fetched other items. Qing Feng stared, dumbfounded.

"Marquis of Wu, are you planning to cook on the spot?"

Li Chen laughed. "There's a stove here, but no chopping board, knives, or condiments—no oil, salt, or vinegar. Perhaps we could borrow the artisans' kitchen…"

His words abruptly ceased as he saw Ye Jiao retrieve a half lamb leg, a bag of fruits and vegetables, and small bowls of seasoning from the saddlebag. She gripped a dagger, plunged it sharply into the lamb, then looked at Li Ce and said, "The weather's cold, so we'll have hotpot."

Hotpot... so it's hotpot...

Li Ce smiled broadly, took the lamb, and nodded gently: "Very well, I shall slice the meat."

"I'll do it!" Ye Jiao moved into the small kitchen chamber, gesturing Qing Feng to set the pot on the stove and fetch water from the horse's water bag.

"I specially brought spring water," she said with a smile, her eyes curved in delight. "The dipping sauce is borrowed from the Drunken Immortal Inn. See how it tastes."

Steam rose as thin slices of meat, paper-thin, were briefly immersed in the boiling water, then dipped in sauce before entering eager mouths. Tender and fragrant, after just a few bites, warmth spread through their bodies.

The small kitchen was cramped. Li Chen ate braised lion's head, jade noodles, roasted ham, and steamed buns at the table, while Li Ce and Ye Jiao surrounded the hotpot, dipping lamb, bamboo shoots, radish, and amaranth. Steam billowed from their side as Li Chen's dishes slowly cooled.

Li Ce's words were especially plentiful today.

"This lamb is so tender—save the rest for Fifth Brother."

"Winter radishes surpass ginseng; Jiao Jiao, have a piece."

"Prince Wei, you must try some! Don't be shy."

"Prince Wei, shall I warm your lion's head here?"

Li Chen forced a stiff smile and stood. "I've eaten my fill."

Truly, he was full to bursting. After the meal, the Wei Prince's servants tidied the food boxes and left by carriage. Ye Jiao departed as well, carrying her pot.

Watching her retreating figure, Li Chen could not help but praise, "Marquis Ye truly embodies the spirit of a battlefield commander."

"She is indeed so," Li Ce waved at Ye Jiao with admiration gleaming in his eyes. "Fiery, lively, and full of vigor."

"That is why Father holds her in such high esteem," Li Chen's tone was tinged with envy. "Father is always strict with us but shows leniency and favor toward others' children."

His words carried a hint of complaint, bordering on irreverence if taken seriously. It was unlike him to speak so; Li Ce turned away with an awkward smile.

"Father also praises you, brother. He said you are filial, like Emperor Wen in his devotion to Empress Dowager Bo."

Emperor Wen of Han was famed for his benevolence and filial piety, reputed to have stayed awake night and day serving his mother for three years. To be compared to him was the highest compliment.

Li Chen smiled awkwardly. "I'm no good at much, unlike Prince Jin—he handles everything with ease and excels beyond compare."

"Naturally," Li Ce agreed simply, offering no further words.

After a moment, Li Chen's voice grew contemplative. "What will become of us in the future?"

The two brothers stood before the towering Circular Mound Altar, watching artisans pile stones and drive stakes, layer upon layer, constructing the sacred path where emperors worshipped Heaven and Earth and honored their ancestors. Sui Wen Emperor, Tang Taizong, and Gaozong had all trod this path to fulfill their imperial duties.

But what of the future? When the emperor passes, who will walk this path? Will it be Prince Jin Li Zhang? And they—standing with thousands of subjects beneath the altar, bowing to the new sovereign—their fates would lie in the hands of the new ruler, life and death decided by a mere thought.

Li Chen understood Li Ce's thoughts, and Li Ce knew Li Chen's earlier words were tests—probing his insight into the emperor's heart, his view of Prince Jin Li Zhang, and the path he intended to take.

Li Ce felt no offense or suspicion. A warm glow settled over him. The taste of lamb broth lingered on his lips, and the maiden who rode up only moments ago had just departed. His heart was tranquil. Neither the solemnity of the Circular Mound Altar nor the vision of ministers kneeling there stirred the slightest unrest within.

"Brother Wei," Li Ce finally replied after a long silence, "when I marry, I will ask Father's permission for a small patch of land—just enough to sustain us. I will take my wife away from the capital to live freely. Then please, brother, take care of our parents."

His expression was sincere, his tone gentle—like all those who entrust their siblings with the care of their parents, steeped in brotherly affection.

Whether Li Chen believed him, he could not say. The other merely nodded slowly, touched, and said, "Rest assured, in the capital... I am here."

The following days spent supervising the Circular Mound Altar's construction grew tedious. Li Chen was meticulous in every detail, often glancing at the Ministry of Rites' blueprints. Li Ce then realized Li Chen understood the plans and could skillfully wield instruments like calipers, rulers, and squares. Even when pacing the land, his measurements were precise.

Li Chen discovered a mistake in the plans, moving a scaffold half a foot eastward to align perfectly with the southern steps. He clearly knew more than acupuncture and massage.

Li Ce was also familiar with the blueprints, as the imperial tombs required nearly annual repairs. He not only read the plans but understood the construction of secret mechanisms and passages.

In idle moments, Li Ce stood atop the Circular Mound Altar, peering down intently. If—if someone deliberately led the emperor to have him and Li Chen oversee the altar's construction as a pretext for an ambush—what then? In this open expanse, where no ambush could be laid, where would the trap lie?

His gaze darkened, sensing beneath every inch of Chang'an's soil, restless beasts slumbered—moaning, snarling, eager to burst forth and claim lives.

He stood with hands clasped behind his back, suddenly noticing a procession of monks approaching along the distant official road. What were their intentions?

Li Ce glanced at Li Chen, who furrowed his brow thoughtfully in response...