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Emperor Ming Zhenghui wanted to exile and punish his son, Ji Bozai, for losing the latest Qingyun Tournament. There were several problems with this plan.
First, he could not demote his son, because his son had already stepped down as Crown Prince of Yaoguang Mountain, and no amount of pressure could persuade him to become Crown Prince again.
Secondly, he could not exile his son, because his son had already exiled himself to the rival realm of Jixing Abyss. What was worse, his son had married his greatest rival, the emperor’s former “son”, Ming Xian. The very thought of Ming Xian made Ming Zhenghui feel ill-at-ease. All that time, the God of War—winner of seven successive Qingyun Tournaments and champion of eight—had not been Ming Zhenghui’s son at all, but Venerable She Tianlin’s daughter. How the other realms must laugh at him, for being duped for twenty years!
Thirdly, he had tried to punish his son. It had not worked as he expected. His son had knelt there, expressionless.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Ming Zhenghui had said, in the most venomous tones he could muster.
“No. The Goddess of War beat me fair and square. It was a very difficult match. She gave me one of the best artefacts in the Six Realms. But she had developed her own new artefact—”
“Given that she is your wife,” said Ming Zhenghui, with extreme disgust, “surely you knew about this artefact?”
“Of course I knew about it,” said Ji Bozai, calmly. “You can ask Mother. However, there is no one in the Six Realms who can approach the forging skill of my wife. She hid the plans, but even if I had found them, there is no way that I could have made my own version.”
“That is all you have to say? What do you say if I remove you as Chief Warrior of Yaoguang Mountain?”
Ji Bozai remained kneeling. Not a muscle in his face moved. “Your Majesty, if that is your wish, I accept it.”
Ming Zhenghui found his son extremely frustrating. He did not care about any of the things that Ming Zhenghui thought he should care about. No doubt this was inherited from his mother, Jing Shu. Ming Zhenghui had never wanted to marry Jing Shu, and they had disliked each other intensely, from the very early days of their marriage. It had been Jing Shu who had sent the real Ming Xian away, because he had no spiritual veins, and replaced him with She Tianlin’s disguised daughter. Ming Zhenghui sometimes wondered if Ji Bozai would have been a better son if he had not been exiled to Jixing Abyss and grown up there. But then, he would not have grown spiritual veins, because he would not have been poisoned with Heavenly Grief, and so it was fruitless to wish things had been otherwise.
Ming Zhenghui stared at Ji Bozai, and Ji Bozai stared expressionlessly at a spot on the floor. He did not look dismayed by anything his father had said. It was extremely annoying.
“Get out!” Ming Zhenghui screamed.
Ji Bozai rose in a fluid movement. “Your wish is my command, Father.” Then he walked out and left Yaoguang Mountain altogether.
Ming Zhenghui realised too late that he should have forbidden his son from going back to Jixing Abyss. Then he reflected glumly that it didn’t work anyway: he had already forbidden his son from going back to Jixing Abyss several times, and his son had totally ignored his commands, and also remarried that woman without consulting either him or Jing Shu.
Whenever Ming Zhenghui sent people to find his son, the person he’d known as “Ming Xian” had responded very aggressively. She had also sent him a message that he must leave Ji Bozai alone and noted that he had been a total failure as a father, to her, Ming Xin, and Ji Bozai. As the God of War, Ming Xian really knew how to hit where it hurt. She was insolent.
Ming Zhenghui would accuse Ming Xian of being rebellious, but she was not his subject any more, because he had exiled her. He wished Ji Bozai had let him eliminate her after she had been exposed as a fraud, because she had immediately transferred her allegiance to Jixing Abyss’s Empress. However, if he had eliminated Ming Xian, then Ji Bozai would have died from poisoning by Heavenly Grief, and neither his son nor his son’s wife would have been around to save the Six Realms from Zhushui Spiritual Realm and the Sky Swallowing Array, so again, it was fruitless to wish things were otherwise.
In any case, over the coming weeks, the other warriors of Yaoguang Mountain came and said that they refused to become lead Warrior of Yaoguang Mountain’s Qingyun Tournament team, and that only Ji Bozai could take the role.
Annoyingly, when he pressed them, one said, “We learned our lesson in loyalty, after you replaced Ming Xian with Ming Xin—”
“Silence!” snapped Ming Zhenghui.
The man was silent, but his jaw was set. Nothing Ming Zhenghui offered any of them made a difference; they all refused to be disloyal to Ji Bozai.
Ming Zhenghui tried never to think about his second son, Ming Xin, if at all possible. Ming Xin had colluded with Zhushui Spiritual Realm and poisoned Ming Xian with Heavenly Grief, which had set off this whole disastrous chain of events. Frankly, the boy had been stupid, politically inept, and a very poor warrior. Ming Xian had been able to run rings around him, until he had poisoned her. It was a relief that Ming Xin had killed himself. The shame of having such a son was immense, even greater than having-a-son-who-was-not-a-son-but-someone-else’s-daughter-and-more-talented-than-his-actual-son.
After some months, Jing Shu came to him, gliding in that way he hated so much. “Your Majesty, we need to talk, privately. Come to my apartments.”
It had been a long time since Ming Zhenghui had gone personally to Jing Shu’s apartments: over twenty years. Nothing had changed.
Jing Shu ordered tea and biscuits to be served, then dismissed the maids.
She poured tea for him. “Your Majesty, please reinstate our son as the Warrior for Yaoguang Mountain next year. I guarantee you that he will win the Qingyun Tournament for Yaoguang Mountain next year.”
Ming Zhenghui looked at her with distaste. “You cannot guarantee such a thing, wife. While that abomination you foisted on me exists, Ji Bozai’s victory is not assured.”
Jing Shu’s eyebrows went up, and she put down the teapot with a clink. “They didn’t tell you? Although—given how you just described Ming Yi—I must say, I can understand their attitude—”
“Who didn’t tell me what?” Ming Zhenghui glared at his wife.
Jing Shu was not put off by his glare. “Ming Yi will not be fighting for Jixing Abyss next year, your Majesty. It will be interesting to see if she fights again, in fact.”
“She’s left Jixing Abyss? She’s been injured?” Ming Zhenghui was confused.
Jing Shu shook her head. “No! You’re to become a grandfather.”
For a long moment, Ming Zhenghui’s mind was a big roaring blank. Eventually he said, “What?”
“Ming Yi is pregnant. They told me quite early, because they knew how much I had been looking forward to grandchildren, and also poor A’Yi was quite sick and Bozai was fussing, of course.” Jing Shu smiled, a genuine smile, and a rare occurrence in Ming Zhenghui’s presence.
“My son… is having a child with… that woman? With Ming Xian?” said Ming Zhenghui.
“Yes,” said Jing Shu. “By the way, the name she prefers now is ‘Ming Yi’, which I do find easier.”
“Well!” Ming Zhenghui suddenly felt cheered as an unexpected benefit of this occurred to him. “We must make sure the child is a subject of Yaoguang Mountain! It will be utterly unbeatable in the Qingyun Tournament! The ultimate combination of the two best warriors in the Six Realms!”
“Your Majesty!” Jing Shu shook her head and poured her own tea. “Have you learned nothing? The child will be a subject of Jixing Abyss, because you exiled Ming Yi, expressed a desire to kill or imprison her and She Tianlin, and then forced our son to divorce her. This alienated our son so badly that he barely sees us. Anyway, Ming Yi and Bozai will likely let the child choose its own path. If it does not want to become a warrior, they will not force it.”
“One grandfather is a warrior and former Venerable, the other is an emperor, and this child’s parents are the best warriors,” said Ming Zhenghui, stubbornly. “Our grandson will be a warrior.” Then something occurred to him. “You have been talking to our son? Our real son, I mean, not Ming Xian.”
Jing Shu sighed. “Your Majesty, Bozai comes to visit me once a month. Since they remarried, A’Yi has been coming to visit too. She says that no one makes scallion pancakes like I do.”
Ming Zhenghui stared at his wife as he was gnawed by intense jealousy. “They visit you and not me?” Then he narrowed his eyes. “Anyway, I said that Ming Xian wasn’t to come here. What’s she doing, visiting you?”
Jing Shu shook her head. “If that’s the attitude you’re going to take, your Majesty, prepare to have no relationship with your grandchild. If you do want to have a relationship with this grandchild, you’re going to have to adjust the way you talk about A’Yi, and possibly… possibly… I admit that it is very hard… say “sorry” to her.”
“You said “sorry” to Ming Xian?” Ming Zhenghui was profoundly shocked. “But you never say sorry to anyone! I should know!”
“I said “sorry” to both Bozai and A’Yi.” Jing Shu looked away and clenched her long pale hands together. “It was extremely difficult. It took me months to work up to it. Luckily, because… in a strange sort of way… they are both my children, they understood how hard it was for me, and accepted my apology graciously.”
“I still feel that it is disgusting that our sons married, on so many levels,” said Ming Zhenghui, with distaste.
To his immense surprise, Jing Shu nodded. “I think this is part of the problem I had too, your Majesty. The deception went so deep that for most of the time, I thought of Ming Xian as a boy; a boy that I did not particularly like, either. I never forgot that he was not really my son. But for you… for a long time, he was your son.”
Ming Xian was my pride and joy. My greatest achievement as a father and an emperor. And it was all false. Ming Zhenghui felt mournful all over again.
“So, part of the process is to admit: Ming Xian was never real. He was always Ming Yi, a very stubborn girl, who was not actually related to either of us, and thus, it is perfectly fine for her to marry Bozai.” Jing Shu’s lips twitched and she leaned forward. “You do know how our children met, right?”
“That’s a good point,” said Ming Zhenghui. “How did they meet, and why did they think this was acceptable, to get together like this?”
Jing Shu chortled. “So, Ming Yi—she became a courtesan, and she attempted to seduce Bozai.”
Ming Zhenghui blinked. “Ming Xian became a courtesan? But did he know anything about being a courtesan? I mean… he was a boy. I know he was really a girl, but he knew nothing of any feminine arts. He was raised as a boy.”
Jing Shu grinned. “She knew nothing at all. Ming Yi approached it like a battle, apparently: with military precision, reading manuals about courtship! Bozai was immediately fascinated, precisely because she was such an odd courtesan. He had hidden the Golden Millet Dream in his Spirit Well, and hence she decided that the best way to enter his Spirit Well was to marry him.”
“Why did Ji Bozai marry her, if he knew she was Ming Xian and she was going to steal his Golden Millet Dream?” Ming Zhenghui shook his head.
“Your Majesty, do you know nothing of our children? Of course, A’Yi never told Bozai she was Ming Xian—eventually he had to confront her with it—and she never told him that she was dying and needed his Golden Millet Dream. That would require her to be humble, and she’s a very proud woman. Instead, she just attempted to steal it off him.”
“So, wait—our son never knew he’d married his rival?” Ming Zhenghui put his head on the side. “Was he furious when he found out?”
Jing Shu sighed. “Not at all! Bozai was delighted. He said, ‘I discovered that I married the Warrior Goddess!’”
“But Ming Xian hates being called the Warrior God, for some reason,” said Ming Zhenghui. “Actually… maybe it’s because she was actually a girl.”
“Anyway, Bozai loves to tease her with that name, and she becomes all coy, and doesn’t know what to say,” said Jing Shu. “It’s quite adorable.”
“I’m sure all the other realms are still laughing at us,” said Ming Zhenghui, grumpily.
Jing Shu looked at him as if he’d grown a second head. “You’re joking, your Majesty?”
“No,” said Ming Zhenghui. “Why would I joke about my own prestige?”
“The other realms adore the love story of Ji Bozai and Ming Xian,” said Jing Shu. “Women put up Ming Yi’s portrait in the hope that they will find a man who is as decent to her as Bozai is! They have made themselves very popular by helping other realms with forging techniques and training, particularly Mangfu Swamp and Cangwu Hill.”
“But those are Lower Realms,” said Ming Zhenghui, contemptuously.
“Precisely,” said Jing Shu. “Recall that Bozai grew up in a forced labour prison, in what was then the least prosperous realm. He is therefore passionate about helping Lower Realms.”
Ming Zhenghui had never thought about what his son’s life had been like before he had returned. “Forced labour prison?”
“Yes.” Jing Shu’s eyes filled with tears. “My baby boy. All alone in that horrible prison, without me. I hate to think of it, but it’s better that he lived. I think part of the reason I hated poor Ming Xian was because I thought my real son had died. I could not forgive her for living when my son did not. But even more than that, I could not forgive myself.”
Ming Zhenghui sighed. “We are lucky that he lived.”
Jing Shu reached over and patted his arm, the first physical contact they had had in decades. “So, your Majesty, please reinstate Ji Bozai as the Lead Warrior for Yaoguang Mountain. The others will not take his position while he remains part of this realm. And—well, there are considerable incentives to be forgiving. I presume that you want to meet your grandchild, at the least.”
Ming Zhenghui scowled. “Ji Bozai might have thrown the match because Ming Xian is his wife.”
“No, Ji Bozai lost to Ming Yi because she is a truly extraordinary warrior,” said Jing Shu. “Believe me, our son put enormous effort into that battle. However, I trained Ming Yi for one thing, and one thing only: to win the Qingyun Tournament. For twenty years of her life, it was all she knew. She is a very tough opponent: strong, intelligent, uniquely experienced, and gifted in forging. You can’t blame Ji Bozai for losing. That’s how you alienated Ming Xian in the first place: you blamed her for losing and she had to flee. Don’t make the same mistake again…”
Ming Zhenghui glared at his wife.
“I don’t care if you glare at me,” said Jing Shu. “I know you don’t like me, and I don’t like you either. But I do care about our son, and our daughter-in-law, and our unborn grandchild. I think it would mean a lot to them, if you could accept them. And it might even be good for you too. Anyway, think about it.”
“I will think about thinking about it,” said Ming Zhenghui.
“That’s progress,” said Jing Shu, smiling gently.
“Seriously, I’m going to be a grandfather?” said Ming Zhenghui.
“Seriously,” said Jing Shu. “I feel like it’s more than we deserve. Don’t tell Bozai that I told you, though. Let him tell you.”
Two days later, Ming Zhenghui issued a decree that Ji Bozai had been reinstated as Lead Warrior for Yaoguang Mountain. No one protested. He sent it to his son too.
His son turned up some days later. “Your Majesty. You have reinstated me. What changed?”
“No one else would take the position,” said Ming Zhenghui, slightly ungraciously. Then, because he was trying to be better, he said, “You are the best person for the role.”
Ji Bozai looked up and blinked. Then he said, “Thank you, Father.”
“You have not come to visit me,” said Ming Zhenghui, sulkily.
“Well, no,” said Ji Bozai. “You said that you wanted to exile me. And anyway… I have been busy. There have been… other things going on.”
Ming Zhenghui thought of Jing Shu’s injunction not to let on that he knew about the existence of a grandchild. He simply said, “Other things?”
“Other things… involving my wife,” said Ji Bozai, in a very stubborn voice.
“Mmm.” Ming Zhenghui was not very good at being friendly. He tried for, “How is, uh, your wife?” It came out in a rather fake, wooden fashion, but there was no helping that.
Ji Bozai looked surprised. Eventually he said, “Ming Yi is… well enough.” He firmed his mouth and said, “She is… we are… expecting.”
“Expecting,” said Ming Zhenghui. “Um. Congratulations!”
Ji Bozai narrowed his eyes. “Mother told you! She told you!”
“I had to find out eventually, one way or another,” said Ming Zhenghui.
“True,” said Ji Bozai.
“Ming Xian is really well?” said Ming Zhenghui.
“Ming Yi is now doing well,” said Ji Bozai. “She was very nauseous at first and threw up a lot. Of course, Ming Yi was uncomplaining, but poor Granny Xun panicked and made gallons of soup for her.”
Ming Zhenghui knew his son well enough to interpret this. “You panicked.”
Ji Bozai smiled. “Very well, I might have been a little worried, until Ming Yi said she would vomit on me if I tried to feed her any more soup.”
“Is it a son?” said Ming Zhenghui.
“I don’t know,” said Ji Bozai, shrugging. “We don’t really care. The main thing is that the child is born healthy, and that Ming Yi survives. She is anxious because of… well, what happened to her mother.”
Ming Zhenghui had not thought of that. “My understanding is that Bo Yucen died only because of what Zhushui Realm had done to her.”
“Just so,” said Ji Bozai. “Father-in-law has made that point repeatedly. He has also been reading every single book he can on the delivery of children and so forth.”
“So, She Tianlin hasn’t changed at all,” said Ming Zhenghui, slightly wistfully. He had really liked She Tianlin, until it turned out that he had been part of the conspiracy to conceal his son’s identity.
“I didn’t know father-in-law before, but I am guessing he has not,” said Ji Bozai. “It is also Ming Yi’s practice, to read widely when she’s anxious.”
“Mmm.” Ming Zhenghui was not used to social chitchat. “So, I did say congratulations, didn’t I?”
“Yes,” said Ji Bozai, raising an eyebrow.
“Make sure you tell Ming Xian… er, Ming Yi… that I said congratulations,” said Ming Zhenghui.
“She’s not going to forgive you just because you said congratulations, Father,” said Ji Bozai, calmly. “Nonetheless, I know that she would prefer our child to know his or her paternal grandfather, so I will tell her that you are trying.”
“Mmm,” said Ming Zhenghui.
“It’s a start,” said Ji Bozai, smiling.