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Chapter 1: Chosen retirement place

Great Xia Dynasty, Jingyuan twenty-seventh year, winter.

The snow in Shangdu always seemed more silent than elsewhere. Tiny, 碎 snow particles drifted down soundlessly, blurring the layered, glazed, and upturned eaves of the Imperial City into an impressionistic landscape painting in faint ink.

Inside Taihe Hall, the underfloor heating made it warm and cozy. In the giant crane-necked censer, premium Hainan agarwood was lit, and its rich, tranquil fragrance, far from calming people's hearts, instead added a few layers of oppression to the stagnant air.

Upon the imperial throne, Great Xia Emperor Li Zongxun wore a bright yellow dragon robe with twelve symbols. His gaze swept over the hundred officials and his sons below the steps, his majesty still present, but the undeniable white frost at his temples betrayed the exhaustion of his heart and mind as the empire's helmsman.

Today was the grand ceremony of enfeoffing the various princes, the moment that would determine the future destiny of his sons, and also an unspoken division of power.

“...Third Prince Li Xiaowu is hereby enfeoffed as Li Xiaowu, with Qin Province as his territory, and a stipend of eight thousand households.欽此!”

The eunuch supervisor's sharp, thin voice, honed by years in the palace, echoed between the golden pillars of the great hall.

Third Prince Li Xiaowu, burly in stature and with a fierce, brave look in his eyes, stepped forward. His armor made a steady, rubbing sound as he walked.

He thanked the emperor in a voice like a booming bell: “Your son, thanks His Imperial Father for his immense grace!” In his eyes, undisguised ambition and triumph burned.

Qin Province, the empire's western gateway, held strategic passes and heavy troops. This was undoubtedly the best reward for his illustrious military achievements.

Not far behind him, two of his trusted generals, who had accompanied him to the hall, also showed rough, triumphant smiles. One of them even mouthed silently to the other: “Our Prince is mighty!”

Previously, Crown Prince Li Jingshuo, the Empress's legitimate son, had already remained securely in the capital as Crown Prince. The other imperial princes had also received their respective enfeoffments, all of them in prosperous, rice-rich regions of Jiangnan, or bustling, important cities.

The atmosphere within the great hall reached its peak in an unspoken agitation. Everyone's gaze, intentionally or unintentionally, drifted towards the figure at the very end of the queue.

Seventh Prince, Li Chen'an.

He stood there, as if an anomaly in this magnificent, gilded hall. The sixteen-year-old boy's frame was as thin as a sheet of paper. Even a prince's ceremonial robe looked somewhat empty on him.

His face was pale, his lips devoid of any color. Since the ceremony began, the suppressed, faint coughing had not stopped, as if he would collapse at any moment and faint in this solemn hall.

The entire court, and even several of his imperial brothers, looked at him with quite complex expressions. There was sympathy, pity, but more often, a kind of dismissive disdain that bordered on disregard.

A sickly person whom the imperial physicians had declared would not live past twenty, a marginal imperial prince whose mother was merely a deceased palace maid with no external family influence, a pitiful person who, in this feast of enfeoffment, originally didn't even have the qualifications to be at the table.

The eunuch supervisor cleared his throat and finally read the last imperial edict. His gaze towards Li Chen'an also carried a hint of pity.

“...Considering Seventh Prince Li Chen'an's gentle nature, delicate health, and unsuitability for strenuous work. He is specially enfeoffed as—Xian Wang, with a stipend of three thousand households, and his territory—Yun Province!”

As his voice fell, the entire Taihe Hall plunged into an eerie silence. Even the whooshing sound from the underfloor heating vents in the corners became clearly audible.

Yun Province?

That desolate borderland, separated from the northern Tianlang Tribe grasslands by only one mountain, suffering nine droughts out of ten years, with land so barren that even the hardiest sea buckthorn couldn't grow well? That place of exile where demoted officials would rather drag their families and commit suicide at the palace gates than go to take up their posts?

This was not enfeoffment; this was clearly banishment, a seemingly decent way to completely remove this useless imperial prince from the empire's center.

After the deathly silence, Third Prince Li Xiaowu's lips curved into an undisguised sneer, while Crown Prince Li Jingshuo frowned slightly, seemingly with some reluctance.

Li Zongxun, seated high on the dragon throne, looked with complex eyes at his most inconspicuous son. A stone in his heart had fallen, yet a faint, almost imperceptible trace of guilt also arose.

Everyone thought that this already sickly Seventh Prince, upon hearing this terrible news, would be struck by lightning, turn ashen, or even faint on the spot.

However, Li Chen'an's reaction disappointed everyone who was ready to watch the show.

The moment he heard the words “Yun Province,” his head, which had been constantly lowered, suddenly shot up. His body trembled almost imperceptibly, and in those eyes, which had always been dim, a fervent light, completely at odds with his sickly appearance, exploded—like a hungry wolf spotting its prey!

Holy crap! It's mine! It's mine! The jackpot! It really is Yun Province!

Heavens, you're too good to me, Li Xian! I worked like a dog for thirty years in my last life, working overtime until I dropped dead, wasn't it all just to have a place to lie flat and retire? This immense fortune, it's finally my turn!

The almost overwhelming ecstasy made his soul tremble.

But he was, after all, an actor who had practiced his craft for several years.

That astonishing light was only a flash, perfectly concealed by an even more earth-shattering fit of violent coughing. He hunched over, coughing heartbreakingly, as if he would cough out his heart and liver.

“Your Highness!” The young eunuch behind him wanted to step forward to help.

Amidst everyone's worried gazes that he might die then and there, he shakily waved his hand, indicating that he was fine.

He forcibly suppressed the urge to howl at the sky, and on his face, he squeezed out a desperate expression mixed with “heartbroken, disbelieving, yet forced to accept his fate.”

He moved his leaden legs, step by step, slowly and heavily.

He came to the center of the great hall, and facing his Imperial Father on the dragon throne, he bowed deeply and respectfully.

His voice was so faint it was almost inaudible, yet it carried a sincerity born of being utterly crushed by fate.

“Your son... cough cough... thanks His Imperial Father for his immense grace! Your son... will definitely... recuperate well in Yun Province, and not fail... not fail His Imperial Majesty's boundless benevolence!”

After speaking, he seemed to have exhausted all his strength, his body went limp, and he almost fell, caught by the quick-witted young eunuch.

No one saw the hint of a triumphant smile, impossible to suppress, hidden deep within his lowered eyes, concealed by long eyelashes.

Yun Province, I'm here! Whole roasted lamb, big house, hot springs... My retirement life, I'm here!

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