ITIEQ C64

Chapter 64 – Two Wei Clans, and I Want Them Both!

“System, did you hear me? Within ten minutes I want every single detail about the Wei family of Danyang!”

“Greetings, Host.” What answered him was still that genderless, mechanical voice belonging to the Main System: “Detected system in use is No.12431 ‘Strongest Imperial Examination System.’ This system does not possess the authority to access world data.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be the Main System?”

The Main System repeated its earlier words, still refusing authority.

“You’re completely inhuman.” Shen Qinghe reproached, “Then when will you return my ‘Strongest Imperial Examination System’ to me? It’s been so many days with no news, I’m actually missing it.”

001 went silent for a while before answering, still devoid of humanity: “Detected signs of Host neglecting tasks. Please update your mission progress immediately.”

Fine, fine, another one trying to press me into a deadline.

Since there’s no external plug‑in available for cheating, everything will have to rely on his own abilities.

Shen Qinghe lowered his eyes to the empty medicine bowl on the tray beside him. All that remained were endlessly complex thoughts swirling in his chest, unable to disperse.

…

The County of Danyang and County of Yunzhong—by name, two counties of established aristocratic families, yet in reality they were practically neighbors, facing each other across the river. After studying the maps, Shen Qinghe immediately decided on the faster water route.

Once the river boat entered the current, it needed only about an hour to reach Danyang. Shen Qinghe, however, had obviously overestimated the stability of this vessel. Today the river winds were strong, and the ship rose and fell with the waves, tossing his stomach about as well. Earlier he had spoken lofty words with great spirit, but moments later had to be supported by his students as he leaned over and vomited miserably into the river, making a complete fool of himself before the Emperor Zhaohuan.

By the time his feet touched earth again, his whole body felt light and floating, powerless, as though drained of all energy. Bent over, he nearly collapsed, but Xiao Yuanzheng’s quick eyes and hands caught him in time. Meanwhile, the man himself was still muttering faintly about “this rotten boat” and “shipbuilding.”

The Wei family of Danyang had already sent people to the docks in welcome. At the front were several women with their black hair bound tightly, dressed with neat precision. They had already seen Shen Qinghe’s portrait before; spotting him was effortless. Unhurriedly, they led horses and carriages forward.

Xiao Yuanzheng continued to support him. When he turned his head to show his face, the women were all startled, and after exchanging glances, respectfully performed a formal courtly salute.

Once Shen Qinghe had steadied his breath, he realized they were bowing not to him but to the Emperor. Moreover, the etiquette was palace‑level ceremonial. Looking closer, their conduct and bearing clearly set them apart from common folk—not looking like hired female guards, but much more like palace attendants by birth.

“Please.”

The words, however, were directed solely at Shen Qinghe. He moved forward, and his following attendants all stepped with him. The women seemed as though they wanted to stop them, but once they saw that the Emperor himself was among them, their lips twitched, and in the end no one dared reproach. Instead, one of them sent a runner ahead to notify the family head.

As though by right, Shen Qinghe and Xiao Yuanzheng shared the same carriage. Once the wheels began to turn, Shen Qinghe spoke softly: “Still keeping old palace retainers by his side? Looks like this family head has not entirely cut ties with the main house.”

The County of Danyang seemed situated even more to the south than Yunzhong. Having worn heavy layers, Shen Qinghe at last felt truly hot. Inside the stuffy carriage he began to sweat, so he reached for the squirrel‑fur outer robe to take it off. Stretching arms and legs a bit for comfort, from the corner of his eye he noticed Xiao Yuanzheng sitting upright, gazing at him. Without reason his heart grew embarrassed, and his movements shrank smaller.

“Y‑yes, it is a bit hot.”

Xiao Yuanzheng lifted the curtain, leaned out to give instructions to an attendant, and turned back with a pale‑blue bamboo‑ribbed silk fan handed inside.

“Your body has not yet recovered fully. Don’t remove clothing.”

To Shen Qinghe’s astonishment, the august Emperor himself held that fan, gently wafting a cool breeze for him. Along with it came the faint incense fragrance from his robe sleeve. Shen Qinghe’s eyes followed the swaying fan shadows until he forced himself to turn away. At that moment, taking off or keeping the robe both felt awkward.

Xiao Yuanzheng noticed his unease, so he deliberately shifted the topic: “I was acquainted with Pingyun’s mother. Her noble title was personally granted by me. No need to be nervous. With me here, she won’t make things difficult for you.”

“Ah, so a county princess* personally enfeoffed by you…” Shen Qinghe raised his eyes, mischief sparkling within, “But what if I want to give her a hard time?”

(*郡主 junzhu — an imperial princess below the rank of princess royal, often bestowed to the daughters of the imperial clan.)

Caught in those star‑like, shimmering eyes, Xiao Yuanzheng slowly averted his gaze and tapped Shen Qinghe lightly on the head with the fan.

“No mischief allowed.”

Shen Qinghe narrowed his eyes with a grin of triumph.

So this is what having connections feels like—truly… wonderful!

The Danyang Wei estate was not far from the docks. When the carriage rolled to a halt, just as always Shen Qinghe prepared to leap out first. Yet just as his hand touched the shaft, he remembered that the Son of Heaven was seated inside too. He quickly retracted, returning inside, affecting solemn decorum before the great superior: “After you, please, Your Majesty.”

The Emperor glanced once at him, said nothing, lifted the curtain and stepped out. When Shen Qinghe followed suit, a hand reached out before him.

He froze briefly but did not hesitate, placing his own palm into the young emperor’s. That hand was broad and dry, one touch and then parting, but the damp warmth of his own palm had undeniably been transferred.

Shen Qinghe smoothed the wrinkles of his robe hem. Wei Sheng had merely invited him to the Xiechun Hall; this family head, however, directly invited him into the residence—apparently unafraid of suffering “once bitten, twice shy.”

No matter now—he was counting on borrowing imperial authority to bluff and intimidate a bit.

Those same female attendants led the way within. Though both were of the Wei family, the two compounds held vastly different atmospheres. Shen Qinghe recalled when Gongyang Ci had “invited the gentleman into the urn”*—at that time, every eave had carried lanterns marked large with the “Wei” character, their arrogance wanting to declare to the world this was one of the Five Surnames. Here, however, aside from the main entrance plaque, barely a single “Wei” character could be seen.

(*“請君入甕”—an idiom, literally “inviting the gentleman into the urn.” It describes tricking an enemy into a trap of their own making.)

From this, Shen Qinghe felt more assured than ever. Twisting through corridors, at last they arrived at the main hall doors.

All accompanying people were stopped outside. At his side remained only the Emperor—this one they dared not and could not bar.

Shen Qinghe smiled slightly. The Emperor had only come at his own side’s invitation, neither giving orders nor bringing pomp. True to his words, he was merely “accompanying”—a pure guest.

The women guides withdrew silently. Before him lay the main hall; surely Princess Pingyun awaited within.

Shen Qinghe placed his palm against the grand doors. A gentle push—then with a sudden whistling shriek, something shot to his ear. His pupils shrank. A hawk halted just an inch from his eyes—yet was seized firmly mid‑flight by Xiao Yuanzheng.

Shen Qinghe leapt back in fright. Closer examination revealed the abnormality: this was no living bird but a lacquered wooden contraption!

Within the hall, a woman robed in scarlet reclined lazily against her low desk. Her manicured fingers brushed across a handbell, beside which sat a lineup of brilliantly painted, lifelike wooden birds. Only closer scrutiny revealed the ruse.

“You’re far too timid, not even as bold as my little darlings here.”

The red‑clad woman raised her hand to her lips and laughed.

“…”

The wooden hawk, caught in the emperor’s grip, still struggled with fluttering wings before gradually going still. Shen Qinghe reached for it, so Xiao Yuanzheng simply extended his palm, laying it open for him. Grasping it, Shen Qinghe turned the piece over and over in his hands.

“If one intentionally attempts to frighten me, naturally I’ll be frightened.”

No wonder he hadn’t recognized it immediately—it was an artwork in utter realism, patterns traced with detailed texture, even painted eyes and beak opening and closing.

But that was secondary. The critical part was—

With a sharp crack, he smashed the contraption onto the ground. The intact bird instantly shattered into scattered fragments, its inner mechanism laid bare. He peered closely, and as the scarlet woman cried out in alarm, his eyes blazed bright as beacons. His voice was level, yet emotion surged in his tone.

“A talent indeed.”

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Xiao Yuxi’s voice sank low. No living person had ever dared treat her beloved creations like this.

Shen Qinghe stepped across the threshold, Xiao Yuanzheng following beside. Entering, his stride overtook her position by half.

Xiao Yuxi pressed knuckles against her waist and slowly drew forth the coiled nine‑sectioned whip. The supple yet razor‑edged weapon gleamed with vivid hue, nearly blending into her robe. Rising to her feet, the looped links rattled with bone‑piercing metallic screeches.

“I was mistaken earlier—your courage is immense. And you’ll pay the price. Oh? You even brought aid? Even if you summoned the Great Celestial Immortal of Luo, you still would—uh—”

Her words cut off. From the shape of her lips, it seemed she had nearly cursed. Instead, she dropped heavily back into her seat, carefully resheathing the whip, patting it to ensure its coils lay proper. Her gaze conspicuously avoided him.

Through clenched reluctance she said, “Come. At least you’ve earned the right to drink my tea.”

Shen Qinghe’s lips curved. Clearly no need of any celestial—indeed, the true dragon Son of Heaven carried more weight.

“In that case, courtesy compels me to accept.”

He seated himself calmly. The kettle already roiled furiously, whistling shrilly. With a few logs tossed in by the woman’s hand, the rebellious lid quieted once more.

Xiao Yuxi scrutinized him up and down. At the same time, Shen Qinghe studied her. So this was Princess Pingyun—not an ordinary figure indeed.

Xiao Yuxi: “So it was you who killed Wei Sheng?”

Shen Qinghe gave no direct answer.

He had only seen to it that Wei Sheng was struck once by shot. Now the youth was certainly guarded heavily at home—alive or dead, uncertain. If she had spies planted, she might even have first‑hand news.

“Hahaha! Unexpected that you had such skill. That slippery fellow—I’ve long wished him dead. Seems you beat me to it.”

“…”

“My original plan was to lure you here, then deliver your head in exchange for advantages with Yunzhong’s people. Would’ve been useful.” Yuxi’s tongue touched her lip, gaze flicking slyly toward the silent Emperor seated aside, only to abandon the thought. “A pity, a pity.”

“…”

Shen Qinghe felt speechless. To think she had such ideas—no wonder the Emperor spoke in veiled terms. This county princess was treacherous, temper capricious—indeed, not suited for much contact. Absolutely right.

Yet when he had seen the mechanical bird, every other consideration vanished.

One side held a chemical prodigy, the other a mechanical genius—how could this Wei family so fully capture his heart?

Two Wei Clans—I’ll take them both!

The Princess’s attitude shifted and wavered. But since this touched upon his core needs, Shen Qinghe decided to play his heavier card.

“This mechanical bird is ingeniously designed.”

“Of course. I spent three years before shrinking its size so much. Never seen its like, have you?” Mentioning it, Xiao Yuxi’s pride swelled—sure of her singular skill in this field.

“If I am not mistaken, the force that drives it lies within the ‘strings’ inside. Using taut strings as elastic components, they store and release energy. A fine idea.” Shen Qinghe brushed the folded wings of one contraption on the desk.

Xiao Yuxi instantly swept up all the pieces, narrowing eyes suspiciously. “You understand this as well?”

Shen Qinghe smiled: “Your birds can, at best, circle this chamber a few turns. But what I know would let them surpass living birds—flying a thousand li in a day, without food or rest, tireless.”

“What method? How is it done?”

Her eager questioning already meant he’d won. She loved tinkering with mechanisms—exactly his advantage. Shen Qinghe feigned mischief: “Didn’t you say you’d serve me tea? Yet I’ve sat all this time and not had a single drop.”

Her ink‑black eyes pinned him like a predator of the jungle. Then, ruby lips curved, and she smiled, pouring him a cup herself: “Drink then. But if you dare deceive, even with him here, he won’t save you.”

She shoved the cup toward him. The liquid was clear as water, not a trace of tea hue. Either this was simply her way of treating guests—or she’d never planned to host honestly from the start.

“Drink.” Her expression gave no apology. She poured another cup for the stoic Zhaohuan Emperor, adopting a reckless attitude. “Now you can tell me!”

“Of course… distant, yet present before your eyes.”

She looked about—it was but her own chamber, nothing particular. Tilting her head, she realized she’d been duped. Slapping the table, intending to strike and settle both new and old grievances alike—

“Hey, hey, don’t get hasty, County Princess.” Shen Qinghe laughed, waving a hand. “I never tell lies. Look—the answer lies right there.” He pointed with a finger.

Both Xiao Yuanzheng and Xiao Yuxi’s eyes followed to where he indicated.

It was the kettle still on the brazier—the very one that had boiled the tea‑water. As ordinary as possible: neither rare nor valuable, dozens of them stored in kitchens, thousands more across the lands. Xiao Yuxi knew them well.

“Oh?” She snorted, arms folded. “This is your so‑called method to send your contraptions flying a thousand li? You and that kettle alike—nothing but waterlogged brains.” Her biting words made clear she thought him a fool.

Yes, it was indeed a defective model: the spout hole too narrow. Once the water boiled, it gave a shrill whistle. Neglected, it would be discarded soon. But from defect one might find strength—precisely the flaw gave it a new potential. For someone with eyes to see, in such a humble vessel lay an opening toward a force able to move the world.

Shen Qinghe grinned wide. To these people of this age, he was about to draw back the curtain hiding the very origin of nature.

“Just guess—what force do you suppose it is, that lifts the lid?”

Footnotes

 

 

1. Junzhu (郡主) – A noble title for women, often imperial princesses below highest rank, usually daughters of imperial clans. 
2. Invite the gentleman into the urn (請君入甕) – Idiom describing deceiving someone into a trap they prepared for others. 
3. Nine‑sectioned whip (九節鞭) – A traditional Chinese chained weapon, flexible yet deadly, composed of metal segments linked together.