HNYWEF -Chapter 169 The Announcement

Zhenguan Year Five, Fourth Month, First Day.

Morning court.

Inside the Tai Chi Hall, the officials stood in solemn rows.

The first few matters had already been discussed.

The Ministry of Revenue reported on the spring plowing, the Ministry of Works reported on repairs and construction, and the Ministry of War reported that the borders remained stable. Everything was proceeding smoothly.

Li Shimin nodded. He was just about to announce the end of court when a figure stepped out from the ranks.

He wore a purple court robe embroidered with golden patterns—the attire of a marquis. He walked to the center of the hall, stopped, and bowed.

“This minister, Zhou Xiong, Marquis of Jiuyuan County, has a matter to present.”

The hall instantly fell silent.

Not ordinary silence, but the kind where everyone held their breath so completely that even a pin dropping to the floor could be heard.

The eyes of the entire court turned toward him at once.

Some officials had their mouths hanging open. Others stared wide-eyed. One nearly dropped the tablet from his hands.

A man who had not attended court for nearly a year. A man the entire court knew suffered from madness.

And now he stood in the Tai Chi Hall wearing court robes, declaring that he had a memorial to present.

Li Shimin sat upon the imperial throne, looking at Zhou Xiong.

His first reaction was not surprise, but confirmation—confirmation that this man was lucid at this moment.

He stared into those eyes. The haze was gone. They were clear.

Only then did he finally realize—

This was Zhou Xiong’s first time attending court.

“What matter do you wish to present?”

Zhou Xiong’s voice carried from the center of the hall, rough and hoarse, yet every word was perfectly clear.

“This minister has important business that requires leaving the capital for a period of time. I have come to request leave.”

The hall grew even quieter.

Li Shimin paused in surprise.

Leave?

He had thought Zhou Xiong was about to bring up some major affair.

Perhaps accuse someone, recommend someone, or at least explain what had happened that day at the Duke of Qi’s residence.

Instead, he was asking for leave.

Li Shimin shifted his gaze away from Zhou Xiong and swept it through the officials until it landed on Duan Lun.

Li Shimin’s first thought was actually that the Minister of Works might have refused to approve the leave request.

Duan Lun stood among the officials of the Ministry of Works with his head lowered.

He seemed to sense something and looked up, meeting Li Shimin’s gaze directly.

He immediately shook his head rapidly, wearing an expression that clearly said, “I know absolutely nothing about this.”

Li Shimin withdrew his gaze and looked back at Zhou Xiong.

“If you wish to take leave, you only need to ask the Minister of Works. Why bring it before the throne?”

Zhou Xiong did not move. He stood in the center of the hall, looking toward the imperial seat, and spoke again.

“For this journey, this minister wishes to request that Princess Changle accompany me.”

The hall exploded.

Not in loud uproar, but in the way everyone immediately began whispering to one another while not daring to raise their voices.

Buzzing murmurs rose from every direction like a swarm of bees filling the hall.

Li Shimin sat on the throne without moving.

He looked at Zhou Xiong’s face and ran through the matter in his mind.

A long leave… taking the princess along?

Zhou Xiong was his in-law, Li Lizhi’s father-in-law, and never once had he been treated as an ordinary official.

If Zhou Xiong had approached him privately, arrangements could have been made.

But bringing it into open court made things troublesome.

Li Shimin finally spoke. His voice was not loud, but every word was distinct.

“Wang Gui.”

Minister of Rites Wang Gui stepped out from the ranks.

He walked steadily, though slightly slower than usual, as if he knew this would not be an easy task.

He arrived at the center of the hall, stood beside Zhou Xiong, and bowed.

“This minister is present.”

Li Shimin looked at Zhou Xiong.

“For your leave, I can decide that myself. But regarding Princess Changle accompanying you—”

He paused.

“My word alone is not enough. This matter must first go through the Ministry of Rites.”

Wang Gui looked at Zhou Xiong.

His voice remained measured and calm, as though handling the most ordinary official business.

“Where does the Marquis intend to travel?”

“Xiangzhou.”

Wang Gui nodded and asked again, “And for what purpose?”

Zhou Xiong stood in the center of the hall in that purple court robe, standing perfectly straight.

He spoke. His voice was rough and hoarse, but every word was crystal clear.

“To pay respects to her mother.”

Three words.

The hall fell silent for a moment.

Wang Gui’s brows shifted slightly.

Not a frown—rather, they relaxed.

From the moment Zhou Xiong had said he had a memorial to present, Wang Gui’s face had carried a thin layer of caution. Now that caution faded.

“Filial piety” was the perfect reason. The Ministry of Rites could not find a single fault with it.

He looked at Zhou Xiong for two breaths, then turned and bowed toward the throne.

“Your Majesty, the Ministry of Rites has been informed.”

He straightened.

“As Princess Princess Changle is traveling to fulfill her filial duties toward her mother-in-law, the Ministry of Rites has no objections.”

Emperor Taizong of Tang sat upon the throne, looking first at Wang Gui, then at Zhou Xiong. He nodded.

“Approved.”

Just two words.

The voice was not loud, yet it descended steadily from the throne.

The atmosphere in the hall changed.

That taut feeling—that sense that everyone was waiting for the outcome—loosened the instant those two words landed.

Someone quietly let out a breath. Someone switched the hand gripping their court tablet after holding it too long. Someone subtly stretched their numb legs.

Cheng Yaojin stood among the officials without moving.

He stared at Zhou Xiong’s back for a very long time.

He only knew one thing:

After fifteen years, that man was finally going to visit her grave.

Qin Qiong stood beside him, equally motionless.

He looked at Zhou Xiong’s back, his gaze heavy.

He remembered that rainy night at Wagang Stronghold. He remembered the man crouched before a pile of gravel, digging into the earth. He remembered the silhouette carrying a child away into the curtain of rain.

That man had never been willing to say her name.

Never willing to speak of her.

And now he had said it.

Before the entire court, he had declared that he was going to honor her.

Li Ji stood on the other side of the hall, his gaze crossing the crowd and settling on Zhou Xiong for a long while.

He remembered those days at Wagang, when that man would squat beneath a tree basking in the sun, a blade of grass hanging from his mouth, grinning like he had no cares in the world.

Back then, he had not known what was hidden inside that man’s heart.

Later, he learned.

Later still, the man left. He wandered for nine years, and when he returned, his eyes were empty.

Now they were not empty anymore.

Those old brothers who had come out of Wagang stood in their respective places, none of them speaking.

But as they looked at that back, every one of them understood.

Old Bear was going to see sister-in-law.

Fifteen years.

He had finally become willing to go.

Zhou Xiong still stood in the center of the hall. He had finished speaking, and simply remained there, waiting.

Li Shimin’s gaze moved away from him and swept across the hall.

“Does anyone else have matters to present?”

No one spoke.

“Court dismissed.”

The eunuch attendant shouted the announcement. The officials bowed and filed out in orderly lines.

Zhou Xiong turned and walked outside.

Neither fast nor slow.

Wearing that purple court robe, he passed among the officials dressed in blue, crimson, and purple.

Some looked at him.

Some avoided his gaze.

Some wanted to step forward and say something, only to shrink back again.

He paid none of them any attention. He simply walked on, out through the doors of Taiji Hall and into the early summer sunlight.

Cheng Yaojin followed behind him, quickly catching up, wanting to clap him on the shoulder.

His hand lifted—

then lowered again.

So he merely walked beside Zhou Xiong in silence.

The two men walked side by side along the palace road, neither speaking a word.

When they reached the palace gates, Zhou Xiong suddenly stopped.

He turned his head and looked at Cheng Yaojin.

Cheng Yaojin froze under that look.

Zhou Xiong said nothing.

He looked at him twice, then turned back around and continued forward.

Cheng Yaojin stood there watching that retreating figure grow farther away. Suddenly, he laughed once and cursed under his breath, though it was unclear who he was cursing.

Then he strode after him.

On the palace road, the two figures—one ahead, one behind—slowly disappeared into the distance.