Chapter 2: Presenting the Ode to the Goddess of the Luo River and Revealing the Imperial Edict
An Guo Duke’s Mansion.
The atmosphere was suffocating, like an airtight coffin.
Zhao Yi was led into a solemn study, where a faint scent of blood and rust lingered in the air—a mark left by weapons seasoned on many battlefields.
An elderly man, lean but with a spine as straight as a rod, stood with his back to him, wiping a long spear mounted on the wall.
He did not turn around, but his voice cut through the silence like an ice-sharpened blade, chilling to the bone.
“So, you are Zhao Zhao’s son, Zhao Yi?”
An Guo Duke, Chu Feng.
Zhao Yi took a deep breath, suppressing the trembling in his chest, and answered neither humbly nor arrogantly.
“Yes.”
Chu Feng slowly turned around.
His face was weathered and lined like rugged terrain; his eyes cloudy but burning with a deadly fury as if stained by mountains of corpses and seas of blood.
His gaze landed on Zhao Yi—not with anger, but with a deathly coldness more terrifying than rage.
“What do you intend to do about my granddaughter’s matter?”
It had come.
Zhao Yi met his eyes without flinching.
“My lord Duke, matters have come to this; I have no words to refute.”
“But I am not a man without responsibility.”
“I will take full responsibility for Miss Yanran.”
“Responsibility?”
Chu Feng’s withered lips curled into a mocking smile, more hideous than tears.
“What do you have to offer for responsibility?”
He stepped forward, the aura of a battle-hardened warrior pressing down like a colossal mountain.
“Do you think the honor of the An Guo Duke’s Mansion is upheld by some twisted folk rhymes?”
“Zhao Yi, are you worthy?”
The last three words struck like daggers to the heart.
Zhao Yi’s fists clenched silently beneath his sleeves.
He knew that empty promises were as light as feathers before this old man who had given everything for the nation.
“My lord Duke, I know words alone will not convince you.”
He lifted his head, his gaze calm to a terrifying degree.
“I also know that in my current state, I am indeed unworthy.”
“But I will prove to you that I am worthy.”
Chu Feng regarded him coldly, waiting for him to continue.
“Now, the northern barbarians have breached the border, their forces at the city gates. The Empress herself has posted the imperial decree, and for three days, no official in the court dares to remove it.”
Zhao Yi spoke each word clearly and firmly.
“I, though unworthy, am willing to take down the imperial decree, to ease Her Majesty’s burden and repel the enemy for the Great Zhou!”
As these words fell, the air in the study seemed to freeze.
In Chu Feng’s lifeless eyes, a ripple finally arose.
He stared intensely at Zhao Yi, as if scrutinizing a madman.
Remove the imperial decree?
By him?
A prodigal son, the biggest joke in the capital, intending to resolve a crisis that even the Cabinet and the Six Ministries could not?
Was he courting death?
Zhao Yi seemed oblivious to the shock and doubt in his gaze, continuing.
“I ask my lord Duke to grant me a chance, and grant yourself one as well.”
“If I can truly repel the enemy for the country and prove that I am not a worthless fool, then I shall have the right to stand proudly beside Miss Yanran, sheltering her from the storms.”
“If I lack the ability, and die by the northern barbarians’ blades, or lose my life before Her Majesty, then that shall be the price I pay for my reckless deeds, and will also restore honor to you and the Zhao family.”
“Then, the matter between me and Miss Yanran will be forever erased. What say you?”
Chu Feng fell silent.
Only his heavy breathing filled the room.
He looked at the young man before him—a man he had once despised as a reckless playboy—and now saw a courage and resolve he had never witnessed.
After a long moment, Zhao Yi spoke.
“My lord Duke, may I borrow ink and brush?”
Chu Feng gestured, and servants promptly prepared the writing set.
Zhao Yi dipped the brush in ink and wrote with flowing, elegant strokes, completing the piece in one breath.
He blew gently on the paper to dry it, then presented it with both hands.
“This is my apology to Miss Yanran. I ask my lord Duke to kindly deliver it.”
Chu Feng took the rice paper and glanced over it.
At just one look, his hand trembled violently.
On the paper were three large characters: “Ode to the Goddess of Luo River.”
“He whose form is light as a startled swan, graceful as a swimming dragon…”
Chu Feng had spent a lifetime in arms, yet he was no stranger to literature.
This ode, with its exquisite diction and lofty imagery, was astonishing beyond belief.
To compare Chu Yanran to the divine goddess of the Luo River—such talent, such craftsmanship…
He lifted his gaze again, looking at Zhao Yi with eyes utterly transformed.
Shock, doubt, and a subtle tremor within himself he had never before acknowledged.
“Very well.”
Chu Feng’s voice was hoarse as he spoke.
“I will trust you once.”
“If you truly succeed, all past grievances will be forgiven.”
“If you are merely seeking attention… I will personally wring your neck and give my granddaughter the justice she deserves.”
Zhao Yi bowed deeply.
“Thank you, my lord Duke.”
Exiting the An Guo Duke’s Mansion, Zhao Yi wasted no time and headed straight for the Vermilion Bird Gate, where the imperial decree hung.
Even now, a crowd surrounded the bright yellow notice, pointing and whispering among themselves.
At that moment, Zhao Yi parted the crowd, stepped forward, and amid the stunned gazes of all present, reached out without hesitation and tore down the imperial decree that held the fate of the entire Great Zhou dynasty.
Silence fell over the assembly.
Then, in the next instant, the crowd erupted.
A scholar dressed in simple robes shouted.
“Isn’t that Zhao Yi, the useless son of Minister Zhao? Has he lost his mind?!”
A nearby plump merchant wiped his brow, shaking his head in disbelief.
“My goodness! This is a matter of state, punishable by death! Does he think this is some nonsense poem?”
A well-informed street vendor lowered his voice, whispering to his companion.
“I just saw him come out of the An Guo Duke’s Mansion; his face looked grim! He’s probably been provoked and is throwing caution to the wind, looking to die!”
Amid the uproar, Zhao Yi held the imperial decree and turned to leave.
Before he could reach the Zhao family residence, a squad of palace guards on horseback charged in, quickly surrounding him.
The leading eunuch’s sharp voice rang out along the long street.
“By order of the Empress!”
“The man who removed the imperial decree, Zhao Yi, is to enter the palace immediately to pay respects!”