Chapter Sixteen: You Are the Empress, Burdened with Worries!

A single stone stirred a thousand ripples. Though Bai Li Mingsu possessed a profound cultivation of mind and temperament, always as calm as an ancient well untouched by wind or wave, even she widened her bright eyes in astonishment at these words.

Her dark brows furrowed, and at last she understood why Bai Li Mingda’s attitude towards Han Fu was so oddly abnormal.

But...

In that moment, Bai Li Mingsu’s expression grew grave as she spoke, “Brother, you do realize that such words must not be spoken lightly.”

“I know,” Bai Li Mingda nodded, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “That’s why I haven’t told anyone. If you hadn’t asked today, I wouldn’t have said a thing.”

“That’s good.” Bai Li Mingsu nodded in relief, though helplessness colored her tone as she cautioned again, “Though your words may not be taken as truth, should they spread, they will surely bring mortal peril. I am to marry him soon; if disaster comes, the Zhou family will not escape unscathed.”

This was no empty threat. Even though all knew Bai Li Mingda’s predictions often ran contrary to the norm, the phrase ‘bearing the bearing of an emperor’ carried a weight too heavy to bear.

If word got out, the emperor would not care for truth or falsehood—he would kill first and ask questions later.

Thinking of this, Bai Li Mingsu forced a bitter smile, murmuring inwardly, “This exceptionally talented husband of mine, to be so highly regarded by my brother, is truly unfortunate…”

Bai Li Mingda was displeased, protesting, “What do you mean ‘not to be believed’? Are you questioning your brother’s skills in physiognomy?”

“Have you forgotten the many times past?” Bai Li Mingsu referred, of course, to the days Bai Li Mingda cast his lots, then added, “When did you learn to read faces?”

“That was before. I am not who I was,” Bai Li Mingda retorted, though his confidence waned slightly, grumbling, “Judge anew after three days.”

The Emperor Xiaokang was fickle and cunning, yet cruel by nature. The chaos of the Xu Dynasty was now inevitable, proven by the three bands of rebels who had grown into roving marauders.

In such times, Bai Li Mingda still neglected proper pursuits, obsessed instead with the ethereal arts of divination and physiognomy. As his sister, Bai Li Mingsu was angry at his lack of ambition, yet powerless to change him.

To her mind, reading the Book of Changes for three months was less useful than studying military strategy for a single day; at least then, in times of turmoil, one might secure a place to survive. But Bai Li Mingda stubbornly insisted that divination would guide the siblings and the Zhou family to a clear path.

Now, seeing Bai Li Mingda remain obstinate, Bai Li Mingsu was dispirited and teased, “Since you say Han Fu bears the bearing of an emperor, what do you make of my face?”

“What are you thinking?” Bai Li Mingda was speechless. “If he’s an emperor, you’re naturally the empress! You two are husband and wife. If you ask me, after your marriage, you should hurry and bear a healthy son—he’ll be the crown prince! Sister, you—”

Bai Li Mingsu raised her slender hand, halting Bai Li Mingda’s wild talk.

Emperor, empress—how ironic… Knowing the peculiarities of Bai Li Mingda’s divination, she smiled, tinged with a sense of loneliness and sorrow.

Now, Bai Li Mingsu no longer hoped for a smooth and beautiful future, only that it would not be too miserable.

Yet according to Bai Li Mingda’s reading, even that desire seemed a luxury.

The better the omen, the worse the outcome. The worse the omen, the better the fate… Indeed, this described Bai Li Mingda exactly.

This was the iron law Bai Li Mingsu had distilled from the day Bai Li Mingda first cast his lots until now—never once had it failed.

Thus, the phrase ‘bearing the bearing of an emperor’ was all the heavier.

At this moment, the wise young woman, always composed and assured, began to worry for her own future.

To conspire with the Qin family meant abandoning this life. Han Fu’s sudden rise gave her hope again. But Emperor Xiaokang’s forceful intervention pushed Han Fu into the abyss of being an untouchable son-in-law; now, Bai Li Mingda’s reading made things even worse.

How could she not feel anxious?

Her heart was heavy, her thoughts in disarray.

Bai Li Mingda saw his sister lost in deep contemplation, paying him no further heed. Muttering indistinctly, he stood and left.

Even if the whole world refused to believe Han Fu bore the bearing of an emperor, Bai Li Mingda remained steadfast—for that was what his reading told him.

To doubt Han Fu was to doubt himself.

Bai Li Mingda’s devotion to divination was unwavering, his belief unshakable.

Before the results were revealed, he always believed he had made no mistake.

It had always been so, and would continue to be.

Bai Li Mingda left, departing the side courtyard and returning to the Zhou estate.

Ping’er did not accompany him, for she still needed to tell Bai Li Mingsu of Han Fu’s conduct since entering the household.

He carried with him the “Comprehensive Guide to All Faces,” and upon returning to the Zhou estate, went directly to Han Fu’s small courtyard, intending to accompany his ‘emperor brother-in-law’ in reading.

Just then, Han Fu, having finished his training, was reading historical texts in his room, the burly man already gone from the arched gate.

“Brother-in-law.” The door was ajar, and Bai Li Mingda peeked his head in, followed by his body.

Han Fu was engrossed in a crucial passage, signaling for silence, giving no other response.

“Let’s read together.” Bai Li Mingda didn’t mind, quietly taking a seat nearby and pulling out the “Comprehensive Guide to All Faces,” ready to peruse when urgent cries came from outside.

“Master Bai Li, Master Bai Li…”

The voice drew nearer, and a man in servant’s garb, about twenty-four or twenty-five, stepped in, his face full of anxiety.

His name was Zhou Dong, the one who delivered poetry for Bai Li Mingsu yesterday.

Short in stature but bright-eyed, he was a shrewd and resourceful servant, favored by the Zhou family and groomed as a future steward.

“Master Bai Li, you’re finally back.” Zhou Dong hurried forward, mindful of his status, bowing to Han Fu, “Greetings, sir.”

Seeing he was in urgent need, Han Fu, though interrupted, was not annoyed, smiling, “No need for formalities.”

“Thank you, sir.” Zhou Dong bowed, then turned to Bai Li Mingda, “Today, news arrived from home—my mother is gravely ill. Please, Master Bai Li, cast the lots and judge the severity.”

So that was it—a filial son, no wonder he was so anxious.

Han Fu understood, and hearing Zhou Dong’s earnest plea for Bai Li Mingda’s divination, became interested.

Bai Li Mingda had no airs, especially when someone earnestly requested a reading—he found his sense of purpose, and quickly said, “Such an important matter! Come with me at once.”

“It’s urgent—let’s do it here,” Han Fu suggested, eager to watch.

“That works.” Bai Li Mingda nodded, asking Zhou Dong, “Your mother’s birth date and time.”

Though this was not ancient China, people still placed great importance on birth dates.

Zhou Dong answered without hesitation.

Bai Li Mingda began to calculate, fingers moving in practiced fashion.

Zhou Dong watched nervously, Han Fu observed with curiosity.

Moments passed.

Bai Li Mingda’s expression grew ever more somber, ending with a sigh of regret.

For some reason, Han Fu noticed Zhou Dong’s demeanor had lightened considerably.

Was it an illusion?

Upon repeated checking, it was no illusion.

As Bai Li Mingda’s face darkened, Zhou Dong truly lost his anxious edge.

A talent, indeed—he had already grasped the principle of Bai Li Mingda’s reverse predictions and learned to use it… Han Fu regarded Zhou Dong anew.

Sure enough, Bai Li Mingda patted Zhou Dong’s shoulder, face full of sympathy, “Borrow a fast horse from the estate—if you hurry, you might make it home in three days.”

“Master Bai Li, are you saying my mother won’t survive three days?” Zhou Dong’s eyes sparkled with hope.

“Mm.” Bai Li Mingda nodded deeply, comforting him, “Life and death are fate. Grieve and accept. Go see your mother one last time.”

“No need to hurry, no need.” Zhou Dong shook his head, joy replacing sorrow, saying, “It’s alright, it’s alright.”

As he spoke, tears of happiness flowed, and he knelt, bowing repeatedly, “Thank you, Master Bai Li, thank you—so long as she’s alright, I’ll take my leave.”

Zhou Dong rose and departed, his steps light and joyful.

“Is he mad? Doesn’t he understand what I said?” Bai Li Mingda asked Han Fu, then paused.

In a moment, he grew indignant.

Han Fu tried to hold back, but lacking professional training, he finally burst out laughing.

“Ha ha…”

He had seen through it—Bai Li Mingda had just realized that Zhou Dong had come to him to exploit a loophole.

A true talent.