Chapter Fourteen: Sovereign and Subject, Father and Son

Zhao Huan truly did report Zhao Yu, and for a rather remarkable reason that positioned himself on the moral high ground: he claimed that Zhao Yu had attempted to steal his bride, seducing a fiancée who had not yet entered his household.

Whether it was the former Zhao Yu or the present, transmigrated Zhao Yu, both good and bad deeds had not been lacking. Yet, there was one thing he had never dabbled in—women. Even Emperor Huizong was perplexed. Given Empress Zheng’s favor toward Zhao Yu and the latter’s generally discreet and respectful demeanor, the emperor had a decent impression of this son.

Yet, a favorable impression did not mean he could act as he pleased, especially in matters that violated basic human ethics.

Zhao Yu met his imperial father in the study. After performing a grand salute, he continued to kneel since he had not heard permission to rise. The emperor was not alone; the third prince, Zhao Kai, stood by his side.

Though his mind was occupied with plotting against Li Yan, at this moment Zhao Yu could only quietly thank his luck. Even if he did not know the reason for his father’s anger, at least he was prepared.

“What have you been busy with lately?”

The study’s layout was specially designed; when the emperor spoke from above, his words seemed amplified, lending an air of authority.

“Father, I invited the painter from Kaifeng Prefecture to my residence. These days, I have been diligently learning painting from him.”

Though the painter had been invited, Zhao Yu had no real intention to study art—he merely knew his father had a fondness for it, so he mentioned it offhand.

Kneeling, Zhao Yu could not see his father’s expression, unaware that Emperor Huizong already knew about the painter’s visit. Thus, upon hearing Zhao Yu’s answer, the emperor’s face softened.

A prince ignorant of art and literature was certainly not a good son; his third brother Zhao Kai excelled in these, which was why he often appeared before their father.

“Do you know Xiao Yiyi?”

Hearing the name, Zhao Yu was utterly baffled and instinctively shook his head. “Father, a few days ago Mother mentioned arranging a marriage for me. I have always believed that such matters should be decided by you and Mother, so I have never dared to meet any other woman in private.”

This shameless declaration even made Zhao Yu himself shiver. Was it that he disliked women? Not so—he simply never found time. If he ever truly fancied someone, would he go running to seek the emperor’s opinion? He would have acted first and explained later.

Li Yan, standing nearby, could not help but give a subtle thumbs-up. He thought, “The Prince of Yi may be young, but his skill at flattery is impressive. Admirable!”

Emperor Huizong was indeed delighted, speaking gently, “Rise. Your attitude pleases me greatly; remember not to have any connection with those from Liao.”

Upon hearing this, a spark of realization flashed in Zhao Yu’s mind. He suddenly remembered who Xiao Yiyi was. Yet, he had only heard her name from his father and did not know her at all. Why had his father suddenly brought her up?

“Father, since you mentioned the people of Liao, I recall meeting a Khitan girl a few days ago…”

Zhao Yu then recounted to his father what he had just told Li Yan, not forgetting to mention how his savior had been imprisoned by Gao Qiu.

Although Emperor Huizong disliked government affairs, he was exceptionally clever. After hearing Zhao Yu’s account, he immediately understood the underlying intrigue and felt a surge of dissatisfaction toward the crown prince Zhao Huan.

What nonsense! He nearly ended up being the villain himself.

Jurchens and Khitans were nothing but trouble—better to kill them all and be rid of them.

With this thought, Emperor Huizong felt a twinge of guilt toward Zhao Yu and beckoned, “You mentioned painting earlier—come and see the painting I’ve just finished. Kai, you too.”

By now, Zhao Yu was thoroughly confused. Why had his father summoned him? They had just spoken of Xiao Yiyi, and now the topic shifted to painting.

He glanced at Li Yan, who gave a barely perceptible shake of the head, clearly just as clueless. Zhao Kai, meanwhile, maintained his usual harmless smile, offering no other response.

Li Yan was indeed Emperor Huizong’s favored eunuch, but not always at his side. He had only heard that the crown prince had visited the emperor, then that the emperor summoned the Prince of Yi, so he volunteered to fetch Zhao Yu. Thus, he did not know what the crown prince had discussed with the emperor.

While Zhao Yu was called over to view the painting, Li Yan quietly withdrew to the door and summoned a young attendant, instructing him to find out what the crown prince had said.

This study was Emperor Huizong’s creative sanctuary. Near the window stood a broad desk, where a completed painting lay quietly.

As the emperor asked Zhao Yu to view the painting, Zhao Yu approached with trepidation. He wasn’t entirely ignorant of art, but to critique Huizong’s masterpieces was truly daunting.

However, upon seeing the painting, Zhao Yu’s heart leapt with joy. He had seen online reviews of this very artwork in his previous life.

In the painting, two lotus flowers bloomed serenely, one half-open. A golden pheasant perched on a lotus branch, turning its head, while two butterflies danced above. In the upper right corner, a poem filled the blank space.

“What a splendid painting of lotuses and golden pheasant!”

Zhao Yu’s admiration was genuine, though he failed to notice that the emperor had yet to name the work.

Hearing his son’s praise, Emperor Huizong nodded, “Yes—Lotus and Golden Pheasant! That’s a fitting name. Now, Yu, can you tell me what is special about this painting?”

A kindred spirit is hard to find. Though he had over thirty sons, none dared critique his paintings. Even the third prince, stellar as he was, never voiced opinions lightly. Now, hearing his eighth son name the painting, he couldn’t help but elevate the question.

Zhao Kai’s eyes flashed with intelligence, then settled into a thoughtful expression.

Fortunately, it was this painting. For others, Zhao Yu might have embarrassed himself.

“Father, your divine work is beyond my humble critique. Yet, the composition is balanced, the poem evokes what the painting does not fully express, and the painting is completed by the verse. Such a masterpiece can only be created by a talent such as yourself. May I boldly ask—would you grant me this painting? I wish to study it day and night, hoping to learn a fraction of your skill.”

Flattery costs nothing but a thick skin. Please the emperor, and life will run smoother.

Though Zhao Yu’s words were brief, they made Huizong’s eyes shine, as if he were seeing his son for the first time. He surveyed Zhao Yu up and down before nodding, “Excellent, excellent. Since you like it, I shall grant you this painting.”

He then turned to Li Yan, who had just entered, and said, “Go to Gao Qiu later and see what crime this Lin fellow committed. If it’s not serious, pardon him. We must not let Yu’s savior feel abandoned.”

“Thank you, Father, for your grace!”

This heartfelt gratitude was genuine. For Zhao Yu, the painting itself was dispensable—just another tool for flattery…