HNYWEF -Chapter 141 Hard to Contain

The fourth year of the Zhenguan reign, ninth day of the winter month.

On the Taiji Hall, the charcoal fires burned bright, yet the atmosphere inside the hall was as cold as an ice cellar.

Zhang Huairen knelt in the center of the hall, holding his tablet high, his voice louder than before.

“I impeach Marquis of Jiuyuan County, Zhou Xiong!”

He paused and swept a glance across the hall.

“The Marquis Zhou is privately forging weapons within his residence! Swords, spears, sabers, halberds—though not standard Tang military issue, all manner of arms exist! This official has already sent men to verify: there are still forging marks in the rear courtyard of the marquis’ residence, with piles of iron materials and both finished and half-finished goods! A noble privately forging weapons—what is his intent? I request His Majesty to investigate thoroughly!”

The hall erupted.

Private weapon forging?

That was a grave crime.

Although Zhou Xiong was a marquis, privately producing weapons could be seen, at best, as a violation of regulations—and at worst, as treason.

Officials murmured among themselves in hushed voices.

Emperor Taizong sat upon the throne, his face dark as storm clouds.

His mind raced quickly.

He was no longer allowed to forge at the iron shop—so he was doing it inside his own residence.

What was he forging? Swords, spears, sabers, halberds!

Zhou Xiong had been a blacksmith for so many years—what couldn’t he forge?

A marquis making weapons in his own home—who would believe it was just for fun?

Li Chunfeng’s words echoed in his mind.

“This man’s fate should have ended nearly twenty years ago.”

And now, on top of that, there was the matter of private weapon forging.

Emperor Taizong opened his mouth, wanting to speak.

But no words came out.

Because he truly did not know how to explain it.

At that moment, a voice rang out from the ranks.

“Ridiculous!”

Wei Zheng stepped out and walked to the center of the hall.

He glared at Zhang Huairen, his face dark as a pot’s bottom.

“Imperial Censor Zhang, you have repeatedly impeached Marquis Zhou. Last time it was drunken violence, this time private weapon forging. Then tell me—what is the Marquis’s current condition?”

Zhang Huairen froze slightly.

“What… what condition?”

Wei Zheng took a step forward.

“The Marquis Zhou suffers from hysteria. Did you not know this?”

Zhang’s face turned pale.

Wei Zheng’s voice grew louder, shaking the entire hall.

“Hysteria! Loss of sanity! All words and actions beyond his control! And now you use the actions of his illness to impeach him—what is your intent?!”

Zhang Huairen opened his mouth.

“I… I did not know he suffered from hysteria…”

“You did not know?” Wei Zheng interrupted. “When the Marquis injured someone while drunk, General Cheng personally took a wine jar to the head—this is known throughout the court! His Majesty summoned imperial physicians and Daoist priests afterward, investigating for half a month. And you claim you did not know?”

Sweat began to form on Zhang Huairen’s forehead.

Wei Zheng turned toward the throne and cupped his hands.

“Your Majesty, the Marquis Zhou is now seriously ill, his behavior uncontrolled. His forging in the residence is merely chaotic action during illness, not comparable to ordinary private weapon production. Yet the Censor, fully aware of this, still repeatedly submits impeachment memorials—clearly out of personal grievance and malicious intent!”

Li Shimin looked at him, and the stone in his heart finally loosened halfway.

He nodded.

“What Wei Qing says is reasonable.”

Zhang Huairen knelt there, his face as pale as paper.

“Your Majesty, this minister—”

Li Shimin waved his hand.

“Enough. Withdraw.”

Zhang Huairen opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He lowered his head and retreated.

Wei Zheng still stood in the center of the hall.

He looked at Li Shimin and spoke again.

“Your Majesty, I believe the Marquis’s condition requires supervision.”

Li Shimin looked at him.

“How should he be supervised?”

Wei Zheng said, “Send someone to watch over him. Not as a guard, but as care. He is mentally unwell and acts without control. Someone must stay by his side—to prevent him from harming himself, and to prevent further disturbances like this.”

Li Shimin’s brow twitched slightly.

He looked at Wei Zheng.

Wei Zheng met his gaze.

There was meaning in his eyes.

Li Shimin understood.

The “someone” to be sent—

Was not a soldier. Not a guard.

It was that person.

The one who could calm Zhou Xiong.

His son.

Li Shimin nodded.

“I understand.”

He stood.

“Dismiss the court.”

The eunuch called out, officials bowed, and the court withdrew in orderly lines.

Wei Zheng left last.

Cheng Yaojin leaned over and whispered, “Old Wei, that performance today was quite something.”

Wei Zheng glanced at him.

“This official merely spoke on facts.”

Cheng Yaojin chuckled.

Wei Zheng ignored him and continued walking.

Cheng followed behind, grinning as though he had gained something valuable.

Two-Rituals Hall

Li Shimin leaned on the couch, rubbing his temples.

Qin Qiong stood below, waiting.

After a long while, Li Shimin spoke.

“Shu Bao, what did Wei Zheng mean?”

Qin Qiong thought for a moment.

“I believe His Excellency Wei meant that Zhou Xiong can no longer be handled by court methods.”

Li Shimin looked at him.

Qin Qiong continued, “He is a patient. A patient cannot be controlled by law. He must be managed by people.”

Li Shimin fell silent.

“Then who is that person?”

Qin Qiong did not answer.

Li Shimin stood and walked to the window.

Outside, the sky was gray and dim.

He looked for a long time.

Then suddenly spoke.

“That child was never meant to bear such a heavy burden.”

Qin Qiong remained silent.

Li Shimin continued, “His father is like this already. He is already struggling. And now we ask him to watch over him—can he manage it?”

Qin Qiong thought for a moment.

“Your Majesty, you saw it yourself that day at the Marquis’s residence.”

Li Shimin did not turn around.

After a pause, Qin Qiong added softly,

“In this world, the only one who can restrain Zhou Xiong… is him.”

Li Shimin stood motionless.

After a long while, he nodded.

“Send word to Zhou Yi.”

Qin Qiong waited.

“Tell him… to spend more time with his father.”

He paused.

“Whatever he needs, let him ask.”

Qin Qiong cupped his fists.

“Yes.”

Li Shimin stood by the window, staring outside.

The sky remained gray.

As if it wanted to snow—but could not.

He suddenly remembered the time when Zhou Xiong had first come to Chang’an.

That child had squatted at the doorway, drawing on the ground with a stick.

Now that child had grown up.

And was about to watch over his father.

He stood there for a long, long time.