Calamitous Lone Star

The prospective Prince Yu's consort from Duke Jing's Manor passed away unexpectedly. The news spread throughout Shangjing City overnight. Most people, after hearing it, sighed in pity, but more so, they began to discuss the rumors about Prince Yu being a jinx to his wives.

If the previous two incidents could be considered coincidences, now that the same thing had happened a third time, no one doubted it any longer: Ling Qiyan was fated to be a widower from birth!

Ling Qiyan sent his manor's Chief Steward to Duke Jing's Manor to offer condolences on his behalf. Even the Empress Dowager had the chief eunuch from the Palace of Tranquil Longevity pay a visit to the Duke's manor. The Emperor, likely feeling that his son had indeed jinxed their daughter to death, made an exception and posthumously granted the Lin family's daughter the title of a commandery mistress for her burial. He also promoted the Lin family's eldest grandson's official position, appeasing and quelling the Lin family's resentment that might have been directed at the imperial family. Once the new year festival passed and Princess Xihua was married off, the matter was no longer mentioned.

However, during this period, every household in the capital was on edge. Those with daughters of marriageable age scrambled to arrange their betrothals, terrified of being targeted by the Emperor and the Empress Dowager and having their daughters forced upon Prince Yu. After all, not every family was like Duke Jing's Manor, where a daughter's death could earn a posthumous title and benefit her brother. For any other family, if their daughter died, it would truly be for nothing!

Once the Lantern Festival was over, the Empress Dowager took Ling Qiyan to the imperial temple in the city's outskirts. Along the way, she repeatedly instructed Ling Qiyan that he must be devout before the Bodhisattva and must not treat it lightly, lest he blaspheme the deity.

Ling Qiyan agreed absentmindedly. He knew that this time, even his grandmother suspected he was truly a jinx to his wives, which was why she wanted to take him to the temple to see if there was a way to resolve it. And he could not refuse.

...Whatever. I'll just put Grandmother's mind at ease.

The imperial carriage stopped outside the temple. The abbot came out to welcome them, exchanged Buddhist salutes with the Empress Dowager, and led her and Ling Qiyan into the temple.

Following a winding, tree-lined path, they entered the main hall. Ling Qiyan properly followed the Empress Dowager in offering incense and kowtowing, then listened to the old abbot chant sutras.

This went on for a full two hours. Ling Qiyan really couldn't bear it any longer. While the Empress Dowager wasn't looking, he quietly got up and slipped out of the hall.

Outside, the winter jasmines in the courtyard were in full bloom. Petals danced in the air; it was a beautiful season.

Ling Qiyan, in a very good mood, stretched lazily. Jiang Lin came over and reported in a low voice, "Your Highness, Third Young Master Zhang has also come to the temple. Hearing that you were here, he came to pay his respects."

Ling Qiyan had the man brought over. Zhang Yuan had been much more subdued lately, and Ling Qiyan hadn't seen him for some time.

Zhang Yuan was here today to deliver some things to his mother and sister, who were staying at the temple for an extended period. Hearing that Ling Qiyan had come to the temple with the Empress Dowager to pray, he made a special trip to see him.

He opened his mouth to apologize to Ling Qiyan, but Ling Qiyan cut him off with a wave of his hand, "Enough. That Young Lady Lin had not yet married this prince. There is no need to apologize to me."

Zhang Yuan hurriedly expressed his thanks, but his face remained grim, his brows furrowed with exhaustion.

Ling Qiyan shot him a glance. "Did the people from Duke Jing's Manor give you trouble?"

"Not exactly. My father and mother have already made a full display of apology, so Duke Jing's Manor couldn't press the matter further. However, I'm afraid it will be difficult to get close to them again in the future."

Marquis Xian'an's Manor couldn't say they were completely blameless in this matter. After all, the incident happened on their estate. The swing's rope had come loose, and not a single servant on the estate had noticed—it was truly absurd. A perfectly fine daughter of Duke Jing's Manor was gone just like that; one could imagine it was hard for them not to shift the blame.

The foundation of Marquis Xian'an's Manor was far less profound than that of Duke Jing's Manor. In recent years, the family had produced no promising descendants, and the manor already showed signs of decline. Now, having fallen out with Duke Jing's Manor, it would surely be even more difficult for them to maintain their standing among the capital's elite families.

Ling Qiyan couldn't help with this matter either. After all, as the wife-jinxing prince, he was likely an even greater source of resentment for the Lin family than Marquis Xian'an's Manor. But his imperial father had already given sufficient compensation, so the Lin family naturally didn't dare to hold any more grudges against him. Thus, they could only vent their anger on Marquis Xian'an's Manor.

Ling Qiyan frowned in thought for a moment, then asked Zhang Yuan, "Why did no one notice that the rope tying the swing was loose?"

"My father interrogated the servants. It was a workman in charge of the estate's maintenance who shirked his duties out of laziness and failed to perform inspections on time. That day, two serving women on the estate were helping the young ladies on the swing. When it was Young Lady Lin's turn, they pushed a little too hard, and the already loose rope snapped completely. That's how the accident happened."

Zhang Yuan explained awkwardly, "Afterward, my father took the servants to Duke Jing's Manor and let them decide their punishment. Duke Jing's Manor said that since they were not their servants, they had no authority to deal with them. So my father had no choice but to handle it himself, ordering them to be beaten a hundred times with a heavy plank and then sold off."

This attitude from Duke Jing's Manor was simply to cause more embarrassment for Marquis Xian'an's Manor, and yet there was nothing they could say about it.

As he spoke, Zhang Yuan wiped his face again and asked Ling Qiyan, "My mother and sister heard that Her Majesty the Empress Dowager has come to the temple, and they wish to pay their respects to her. I wonder if that would be possible?"

Ling Qiyan nodded. "The Empress Dowager probably won't be out so soon. Have them come over in the afternoon. This prince will speak with her."

Zhang Yuan thanked him repeatedly. Compared to the Lin family, they were obviously more worried that the Empress Dowager would be angry with them for the loss of a perfectly good granddaughter-in-law. Having a chance to apologize in person was for the best.

After Zhang Yuan left, Ling Qiyan stood alone outside the main hall for another moment. The Empress Dowager finally came out and began to scold him, "What did I tell you earlier? Be devout, be devout! The master was only halfway through chanting the sutras and you ran off. You child, honestly..."

Ling Qiyan shamelessly acted cute and wheedled, "It's the same if Grandmother listens. Grandmother dotes on me so much, the Bodhisattva will surely see that and won't have the heart not to help me."

The Empress Dowager shook her head helplessly and told Ling Qiyan to follow her. They followed a young novice monk who led the way to the rear hall.

It was even quieter here; even the sound of the wind blowing through the corridors was clearly audible. Ling Qiyan subconsciously lightened his steps.

In the rear hall, there was only one old monk of indeterminate age, sitting with his eyes closed in meditation.

They sat down on the prayer cushions. The old monk slowly opened his eyes. The Empress Dowager spoke a few words to him in a low voice, her tone exceptionally respectful. The old monk's gaze shifted to Ling Qiyan for a moment before he closed his eyes again. The prayer beads in his hand turned as he began to chant something in a deep voice.

About a quarter of an hour passed. Just as Ling Qiyan was growing impatient, the old monk finally opened his eyes again. With a composed expression, he said to the Empress Dowager, "The young prince has the fate of a calamitous lone star. He is fated to have no affinity with parents, wife, or children. Such matters in life cannot be forced. If he can accept this with grace, perhaps he may find a different kind of fortune."

Ling Qiyan's face instantly turned ashen. The Empress Dowager's eyes widened in disbelief, her body swaying as if about to collapse. "...Could you be mistaken?"

The old monk answered with silence.

Seeing this, tears welled up in the Empress Dowager's eyes. She instinctively looked at Ling Qiyan, who stood up with a dark expression and strode away quickly.

"Your Majesty the Empress Dowager need not be overly grieved," the old monk advised in a low voice. "The young prince is a person of great blessings and is destined for a long life. Although his fate will have its twists and turns, he will eventually live a smooth and peaceful life in the future."

The Empress Dowager's mind calmed slightly. Dabbing the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief, she asked, "What other twists and turns will there be?"

The old monk slowly shook his head.

This meant it could not be spoken of.

Knowing she could not press for an answer, the Empress Dowager grew even more anxious and couldn't accept it. "Is it truly impossible for him to have a wife and children? Is there any way to resolve this?"

The old monk sighed. "Wait for three years."

When the Empress Dowager came out, Ling Qiyan was sitting in a daze under the shade of a tree outside the hall. He stood up to meet her, head lowered, and said sullenly, "Grandmother, let's go back to the palace. That old monk was spouting utter nonsense. It's all just rubbish, not to be taken seriously."

He didn't believe in this stuff. What calamitous lone star? It was nothing more than a ghost story the old monk made up to fool his grandmother, taking advantage of the recent widespread rumors about him being a jinx to his wives.

Although the Emperor and Empress didn't favor him, he had still grown up perfectly fine under his parents' watch. It would be one thing to say his affinity with his parents was weak, but how could it be that he had no affinity with them at all?

The Empress Dowager reminded him, "Don't speak nonsense. The old master is almost one hundred and twenty years old. He is a truly enlightened monk. His readings of people's faces have always been very accurate; he would never speak carelessly."

Hearing this, Ling Qiyan grew even more displeased. "Then am I really that calamitous lone star?"

The Empress Dowager was speechless for a moment. After a long while, she raised her hand to stroke her grandson's face, her heart aching for him. "It's alright. You are the precious legitimate eldest son of the emperor. The power of the imperial bloodline will protect you. Nothing will happen."

"...Let's just go back."

The Empress Dowager did not agree. "Yan'er, be good. We'll stay at this temple for a few days before leaving. At the very least, we should have someone perform a couple of rites to help change your luck first."

Ling Qiyan pouted. ...Whatever.

Songlu Pass, by the banks of the Tana River.

Wen Ying, dressed in the thin uniform of a common soldier and holding a long spear, had been waiting in formation with his comrades for a long time, waiting only for the order from his superior to charge.

It was the second month, and the lands beyond the pass were still bitterly cold. Every breath formed a trail of white vapor. Wen Ying gazed calmly at the opposite bank of the river. His heart, which had long been as still as stagnant water, finally stirred with a slight ripple at this moment.

He had been enlisted at Songlu Pass for two months, training daily without slacking. Captain Zheng highly appreciated him and had made him a squad leader in charge of a ten-man team. This was his first time truly on the battlefield.

The deployment of troops by the Great Cheng court did not make the Balindun people and the Cilie Tribe restrain themselves. Last month, they joined forces again and plundered two small tribes northeast of Songlu Pass. General Lin Su, after consulting with his subordinates, decided to abandon the rash approach he took when he first arrived at Songlu Pass last year. He gave up on a direct assault on the Cilie Tribe's main camp and instead chose to first recapture the surrounding smaller tribes they had occupied.

The Talin Tribe, located by the Tana River, was set as the first target. Captain Zheng's unit was assigned to the vanguard.

Most of the men in his squad were frightened, secretly lamenting their bad luck. To be sent to the battlefield right after enlisting, and as part of the vanguard no less, was certainly not good fortune. Only Wen Ying's expression remained as calm and composed as ever.

For him, however, this was a great opportunity.

He needed to climb the ranks. He needed military merits. He was not afraid of death.

At the fourth quarter of the Hour of the Rabbit, when the morning clouds in the sky were at their most brilliant, the charge horn finally sounded.

Wen Ying tightened his grip on the long spear. Amidst the earth-shaking battle cries, he felt not a trace of fear. He waded through the nearly dry river of early spring and charged forward valiantly, the light of the dawn clouds reflecting in his dark eyes, making them exceptionally bright.

After that, his pupils gradually turned blood-red. Warm blood splashed onto his face, and countless flashes of blades and swords flickered before his eyes. Only one thought remained in his mind: Kill! Kill! Kill!

Only by killing more people could he earn greater military merits!

The wind began to howl, mingling with the devastating sounds of slaughter. Blood dyed the river red and stained every inch of green grass underfoot.

In the evening, the victorious imperial troops began to clean up the battlefield.

Wen Ying had sustained a minor injury, a cut on his shoulder, and was sent back to the military camp to have it bandaged and treated.

Four of the ten men under his command had died, while he himself had taken nine heads and seriously wounded more than ten enemies. His battle achievements were not only unrivaled among the new recruits, but many veterans who had been enlisted for years could not compare.

That day, meat was added to the army rations. Everyone received two pieces of meat and half a bowl of wine. The entire camp was filled with a joyous atmosphere.

Wen Ying sat silently by the fire, wolfed down his food, then tilted his head back and poured the wine into his mouth. He raised the back of his hand and wiped away the wine stains from his lips.

Captain Zheng came out of his tent, saw him, and walked over, handing him another pot of wine and half a bowl of meat. "Take it."

Wen Ying accepted it without protest and stood up to thank him.

"You're amazing, kid. Even better than I was on my first time on the battlefield. I knew I wasn't wrong about you," Captain Zheng laughed heartily.

Having spent more time together, this Captain Zheng's bold and unceremonious personality was on full display. He never beat around the bush with Wen Ying and had even taught him a lot of skills, for which Wen Ying was very grateful.

Wen Ying was a quiet person and usually didn't know how to respond to such boasts, but Captain Zheng didn't mind. He happily told him, "I've already reported your achievements. If all goes well, you'll be promoted to platoon leader this time."

"Thank you, Captain."

Wen Ying performed a solemn military salute. This "thank you" was exceptionally sincere.

For a new recruit like him, it was rare for battle achievements to be reported truthfully; it was inevitable that some would be claimed by superiors or other veterans. Not only had this Captain Zheng generously reported his merits for him, but he also said he would be promoted to platoon leader. This wasn't something that could be achieved just by killing a few people. Captain Zheng had likely gone to great lengths to make this happen for him.

A squad leader commanded ten men but was not an official rank. A platoon leader, however, commanded fifty soldiers and was a seventh-rank military officer. That meant truly having an official position.

Although, this was still far from enough.

Captain Zheng waved his hand dismissively. "What's there to thank me for? You came from under my command. Your swift promotion brings me honor too. If you can keep climbing higher in the future, just don't forget about me."

Wen Ying thanked him once again.

"Alright, if you don't mind, let's address each other as brothers from now on. I'll take the liberty of calling you Younger Brother Wen, and you can just call me Brother Zheng."

Wen Ying readily complied, "Thank you, Brother Zheng."

Night deepened, and the camp, which had been boisterous for half the night, returned to tranquility. Except for the patrolling soldiers on night duty, most everyone had fallen into a deep sleep.

Wen Ying lay with one hand pillowed behind his head, listening to the chorus of snores around him, silently staring at the sliver of light filtering in from outside the tent.

That pair of peach blossom eyes, always full of emotion and vitality, surfaced unintentionally in his empty mind.

Two months' time, yet everything in Shangjing City already felt like it belonged to a past life.

The sounds in his ears faded. Wen Ying slowly closed his eyes, no longer thinking about those things, and fell into a deep sleep.