Chapter 153: The Price

"You weren't horse racing?" Prefect Mo caught the implication behind their words.

"Of course not. What happened was this: His Majesty was traveling incognito outside the palace..."

Cao Jinhua explained in great detail. She started from how she met Zhao Zhen, how they went to the racecourse, and how Tang Renxian acted arrogant, provoked Zhao Zhen, and pushed him to the edge...

In short, this was a textbook example of someone trying to show off and turning out to be an absolute clown.

Cao Jinhua did not embellish the story at all, because the events needed no embellishment. To make such a fool of oneself right in front of the Emperor could only be described as sheer bad luck.

At the same time, Cao Jinhua omitted not a single detail. The whole affair was too entertaining. Whether out of forgetfulness or omission, she would not dare leave anything out.

And the more Prefect Mo listened, the more he acknowledged Tang Renxian's relentless march toward self-destruction.

To brag about one's connections with the Khitans right in front of the Emperor.

Why don't you just fly up to the heavens already!

Compared to challenging the Sovereign in horsemanship, that was nothing.

As for Tang Renxian's claims that it was all just a joke, mere entertainment...

Prefect Mo completely pretended not to hear them. When the participants change, the very nature of the deed changes with them.

What was even more terrifying was that Tang Renxian had actually drawn his blade. Drawing a weapon against the Sovereign—the gravity of such an act needed no further elaboration.

"This office shall report this matter directly to the Sovereign. Guards! Lock the suspect up first," Prefect Mo ordered.

"My lord, my lord, you cannot arrest me, I am innocent! It truly was just a joke!"

Tang Renxian did not want to be locked away; he shouted in desperate protest. But this time, there was no way Prefect Mo could help him. His so-called "wit and talent" had been aimed at the wrong person!

Prefect Mo waved his hand, signaling the bailiffs to drag the man away.

"My lord..."

The other scholars had a mind to intervene, but then they heard Prefect Mo say, "As for the rest of you, your offenses shall also be submitted to the Sovereign, and He alone shall determine your fate."

"Yes, my lord." Upon hearing this, the others exchanged uneasy glances: they were implicated in this as well.

Not a single one of them dared to utter another word.

"As for the racecourse..." After dismissing the aristocratic youths, Prefect Mo's attitude toward Shen Shi and his group shifted noticeably. "That matter must likewise be approved by the Sovereign."

Regardless of how foolish Tang Renxian had been, since the Emperor Himself had signed the agreement, Prefect Mo did not dare refuse to honor it.

***

Meanwhile, though Zhao Zhen had left the prefectural office behind, it did not mean he was entirely in the dark. What were his left-behind agents for? They were meant to relay information.

"Has he passed judgment on the case?" Zhao Zhen asked.

"Yes, Your Majesty, it was handled according to the law," Chen Lin replied. "The Minister's son has been committed to custody. Sire, this person truly needs to be disciplined. Under the bright light of day, in the capital city—a place of utmost virtue—he actually dared to speak shamelessly and seize another's property."

Chen Lin held no fondness for Tang Renxian. Setting aside the fact that Zhao Zhen was the Emperor, even if an ordinary person were treated with such blatant insolence, any household steward would detest the culprit.

"Hmm," Zhao Zhen nodded, then asked, "Did he say anything else?"

"Indeed, Sire. Prefect Mo was uncertain how the racecourse ought to be handled, and begs for Your Majesty's wise decision," Chen Lin said.

"The racecourse... Describe his demeanor at the racecourse to me in detail once more," Zhao Zhen paused for a moment before speaking.

"Understood. In the main hall, the Minister's son offered clever sophistry, spouting nonsense about how 'under the vast heaven, all is the king's land'..."

Since the Emperor wished to hear it, Chen Lin narrated everything minutely, leaving out neither a single sentence nor any minor detail.

"Grand Attendant, do you suppose he knew my identity from the very beginning?" Zhao Zhen asked abruptly after listening in silence.

Chen Lin weighed Shen Shi's performance before replying, "Reporting to Your Majesty, he most likely knew."

"He knew, eh? That is your view as well." Zhao Zhen nodded, his eyes fixed upon a book.

Chen Lin glanced over and discovered to his surprise that it was the *Diaries of the founding Emperor*.

And the passage Zhao Zhen was reading concerned the old tale of Zhao Kuangyin losing Mount Hua.

"In his youth, the Founding Emperor lost his mother and his family fell into poverty. Relying on his father to carry him across the realm in baskets while making a living through manual labor and street performances, he witnessed the haughty and humble faces of the world from a tender age and tasted every bitterness and sweetness of life. His long years of wandering the rivers and lakes fostered a personality prone to brawling and gambling—one who would refuse to pay up when he lost, yet insist on collecting when he won. It was the ancestors who guided and enlightened the Founding Emperor, rousing him to greatness. Looking back upon this affair today, do we not find many striking similarities?"

Zhao Zhen was calling his own forebear a scoundrel. Chen Lin did not dare to take up that thread, pretending entirely not to have heard.

Nor did Zhao Zhen intend for Chen Lin to critique his ancestor. Thus, what he said next was the crux of the matter. "This time, could it be that the Prince of Runan's estate was in the wrong?"

Zhao Zhen's perusal of the Founding Emperor's past was not merely out of historical curiosity; suspicion had taken root in his mind.

Shen Shi practiced the Dao. Of that, Zhao Zhen had no doubt. Coupled with the transformation in Zhao Kuangyin...

Following this train of thought: this was clearly a warning from a divine being directed at me!

Zhao Zhen's imagination had truly... wandered much too far!

Shen Shi had not the slightest inkling that he would cross paths with the Emperor today. And upon meeting the Sovereign, Shen Shi had never anticipated running into the arrogant Tang Renxian, let alone that they would clash head-on. This truly had nothing whatsoever to do with Shen Shi.

Yet the party involved did not see it that way, and Chen Lin played along, saying, "Sire, that is indeed a fine steed. This servant has heard that Lord Tang frequently maintains close contact with the Prince of Runan's estate."

He did not directly pass judgment on the matter; instead, he simply laid out their connection. That alone was sufficient.

Zhao Zhen pondered for a moment, nodded, and said, "It seems this truly is the work of the Prince's estate."

What more was there to misunderstand? The Prince of Runan's estate wanted the horse—perhaps they had originally intended to buy it, but the owner refused to sell, and consequently...

There was no need to ask, nor any need to spell it out.

One should not assume the princes of the Song dynasty possessed pristine reputations; that was merely the reward bestowed upon them by flattering literati. They were human beings as well, and they had committed no small share of unprincipled deeds.

To say nothing of them—was not even their wise, martial, and righteous Founding Emperor cut from the same cloth?

In his youth, Zhao Kuangyin had once been starved, thirsty, exhausted, and weary, yearning in his heart to encounter a vendor of food and drink so he could finally eat his fill. As luck would have it, a pillow was brought just as he grew drowsy. From afar, he spotted a peach vendor with two baskets of fresh peaches, large and red. Instantly, strength surged into his legs, and he ran up in one breathless dash. Without any further ado, he began wolfing them down voraciously. Before long, very few remained in the baskets.

Having finished the peaches, Zhao Kuangyin wiped his mouth, laid his shoulder pole flat, leaned against the baskets, and promptly fell sound asleep, even resting his arrogant, malodorous feet right in the old vendor's lap.

He slept soundly until the sun sank behind the western hills before finally waking up. Yet he simply hoisted his dragon-cased staff and strode away without looking back. He had eaten a stranger's peaches, slept across his carrying pole, and upon waking, paid not a single cash nor even offered a word of thanks.

This was the obscure, unvarnished side of their glorious Founding Emperor. And aside from the palace diaries, no one else knew of such things—at least, they were never recorded in the writings of scholars.

Bearing today's experiences in mind, Zhao Zhen looked once more upon Bao Zheng's memorial and sighed, "To think that obtaining a shred of truth should be so terribly difficult. In the end, only he spoke out."

What Zhao Zhen had constantly heard in both ears was how wonderful the Prince of Runan's estate was—helping others without seeking reward, engaging in fair trade...

Only Bao Zheng. That dark-faced fellow laid everything bare. Right was right, wrong was wrong, unfettered by the burden of reputation.

"He wrote with such stark truth that I dared not believe it. How laughable," Zhao Zhen shook his head.

"Your Majesty is benevolent," Chen Lin consoled him, pointing out the very reason why he had found it hard to believe.