Chapter 9: General Chu's Tearful Plea in the Golden Throne Hall Shocks All

“Your Majesty, please seek justice for your humble servant. They bully me because I’m not quick with words, taking every chance to mock and torment me. They have no shame at all! He’s eaten more salt than I’ve eaten rice, and his heart is wicked and venomous. I ask for nothing else, only that Your Majesty consider the devotion of myself and the hundred thousand soldiers who have served the country with all our strength, and grant us a meal and some soup so we may survive. If only we could have warm cotton clothes in winter, that would be enough. I am not like them, always pursuing the finest delicacies and exotic flavors, wearing silk and brocade and sable coats. My soldiers and I have suffered greatly—we too have fought our way back from countless bloody battles. If I had known I would be treated this way… I… I would have preferred to fall on the battlefield back then… I am wretched, useless, and my men suffer with me. They go hungry and cold, surviving the war only to be despised and dismissed by those protected by us… It’s killing us in both body and spirit…”

Shen Zhao wept so bitterly, her cries wrung the heart and moved all to tears. Xie Yuheng silently lifted his sleeve to wipe his eyes—the wind in the grand hall today was truly strong, making his eyes sting. General Chu had truly thrown caution to the wind today. As soon as morning court ended, he would rush straight to the barracks to tell everyone what their general had endured for them, how he had set aside even a man's dignity—crying and pleading like a woman in the throne room. Truly, General Chu was formidable, far beyond his reach.

Even the old emperor, who had been watching the scene unfold like a play, couldn't help but twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“My loyal subject, I have heard you. Take a rest now. I will not let you or your men be wronged.”

This silent gourd is better off keeping quiet in the future. For a moment, he thought his morning court had turned into a marketplace—no, the harem—just like when the concubines came complaining to him, not a bit different. And how did he handle the concubines? He coaxed them! Who would have thought that he, the Emperor, would one day have to coax a courtier like a woman in the grand hall.

Shen Zhao wiped her tears with her sleeve—she truly was exhausted from crying. The art of weeping on cue is a skill; she had dredged up years of pent-up grievances in her heart to cry with such abandon and heartbreak.

“As Your Majesty commands.”

At the emperor’s words, she knew to stop at the right moment. She did not rise, however, remaining on her knees. She would stand only after the emperor fulfilled his promise.

The old emperor's gaze grew cold as he looked at Pang Qingyun and the others.

“Minister Pang, do you realize your offense?”

Shen Zhao's mouth twitched—she knew the emperor would not truly punish Pang Qingyun. After all, Pang Qingyun was the Crown Prince’s tutor and the emperor’s own brother-in-law. Just listen to the way he asked—“Minister Pang, do you realize your offense?” Still, she didn’t care. If her crying alone could shake Pang Qingyun, that would have been a miracle.

Pang Qingyun gritted his molars in secret and replied respectfully, “This old servant knows his error. I should not have caused General Chu to feel wronged.”

When had he ever suffered such humiliation? If anyone ever claimed Chu was bad with words again, he’d slap them. Clearly, that tongue was sharper than his own.

“Well, since you acknowledge your fault, as punishment, you’ll forfeit three months’ salary, and from now on, you shall not propose cutting the soldiers’ pay in the capital again.”

The old emperor then turned to Chu Mu.

“Rise, my loyal subject. I’ve meted out punishment—do you still feel wronged?”

What a situation this was! If this silent gourd weren’t truly a talent, in years past he wouldn’t have bothered coaxing—he’d have charged him with disrupting court, or even had him executed. But now, things were different. The old general guarding the border was showing signs of wanting to carve out his own kingdom. The old general driving off the pirates at Linhai was loyal to him, but never cared a whit for the Crown Prince. Only the silent gourd before him remained within his control and respected the Crown Prince as well. But the Crown Prince…

The emperor cast a dissatisfied glance at the Crown Prince—too eager for quick success, failing to win over Chu Mu and instead suppressing him. The emperor had seen it all. Still, perhaps it was for the best; he did not wish to see a repeat of himself in the Crown Prince.

Shen Zhao had been watching the emperor closely. Seeing he was not angry, her courage grew.

“I am no longer aggrieved, Your Majesty, but I grieve for the hundred thousand soldiers in the army. I beg Your Majesty to restore our pay and treat us equally with the other two armies.”

Without hesitation, the emperor replied, “From this day forth, the pay for the capital’s soldiers shall be restored. Does that satisfy you, my loyal subject?”

It was also a warning to the Crown Prince—he had not abdicated yet, and the prince had best not overreach.

Recognizing the threat in the emperor’s words, Shen Zhao promptly replied, “Your Majesty is wise and compassionate to us soldiers. On behalf of the hundred thousand men, I thank you for your boundless grace.”

She knew well when to stop—pressing further would only backfire.

Shen Zhao rose and stepped back into line. No matter what the other ministers said, she listened but remained silent, until the shrill voice of the eunuch announced, “Court is dismissed.”

As soon as the emperor departed, she was the first to rush out of the hall. She needed to return to the general’s estate to save herself. By now, she ought to have been sent to kneel in the ancestral hall as punishment.

No sooner had Shen Zhao left the hall than someone gripped her shoulder from behind.

“General Chu, I misjudged you! Ha… I always thought you were too reserved to say a word, but when it comes to scolding someone, your tongue is sharp indeed. I truly admire you. For you to go this far for the sake of the brothers in the army—I am convinced.”

Xie Yuheng, all camaraderie, clapped Shen Zhao on the shoulder.

With the other hand, he thumped his chest in earnest. “Don’t worry, Brother Chu. You’re not fighting alone. I and the Duke of Zhenguo’s household are behind you. Today, I had planned to…”

“Pak—”

Shen Zhao brushed his hand aside and hurried a few steps to put distance between them.

“If you have something to say, say it, Brother Xie. Don’t be so handsy—people might get the wrong idea about us.”

Xie Yuheng was worth befriending, and she knew she would need powerful allies if she ever hoped to clear her father and brother’s names. The support of the Duke of Zhenguo’s house was invaluable.

But Xie Yuheng was unbothered, grinning. “Let’s see who dares say a word! Brother Chu, why don’t we go to the barracks and have a drink?”

Though they had served in the same barracks, Chu Mu had always been known as a taciturn and ruthless man—respected and feared in equal measure. Soldiers scattered at his approach as mice do before a cat. Even Xie Yuheng had not cared for Chu Mu, finding him dull and inexpressive—only truly alive during drills. Today, seeing another side to him, Xie Yuheng was convinced—here was a general who truly fought for his men, worthy of the Duke of Zhenguo’s protection.

After all, everyone in the capital knew the Crown Prince’s faction had recently moved against Chu Mu. His own father had said Chu Mu was a man of great potential, though too reserved. If his father had attended court today, he too would have been astounded by Chu Mu’s performance.

No, he must hurry to the barracks, then to his own house, and finally to the teahouse to make known General Chu’s glorious deeds to all. It was decided.

Shen Zhao, however, had no time for brotherly bonding, nor did she know what Xie Yuheng was plotting. The cold, damp ancestral hall made her shiver at the very thought. It was late autumn now, and the old matron had removed all the cushions from the ancestral hall to torment her, forcing her to kneel directly on the icy stone. Her legs had long since developed chronic ailments.

She declined, “Another day, perhaps. I have urgent matters at home. Forgive me, Brother Xie.”

With that, she strode quickly toward the palace gates.

Meanwhile, at the General’s Manor, Chu Mu looked around a place he had never taken notice of before and asked the old woman holding him,

“Is this truly the ancestral hall of the family?”

He was certain that it was not the same hall where the Chu clan worshiped their ancestors.