Volume One: The Emperor's Sword Chapter 65: The Show Begins

The Imperial Preceptor, a figure of eminent status, should have been greeted with utmost courtesy upon his arrival. Yet Duke Lan merely cast him a cold glance, snorted dismissively, and made no move to welcome him.

At the banquet, nobles and ministers wore varied expressions—some awkward, some wary, some smiling obsequiously, others glaring with hostility. Yun Que swiftly took note of these shifting moods. Since Wei Mo Cheng’s entrance, the embarrassed smiles came mainly from the civil officials, while most of the disdainful glares belonged to the military generals. Clearly, the military faction harbored strong resentment toward the Imperial Preceptor.

It was Crown Prince Yin Hong Zhuo who first rose to greet Wei Mo Cheng with respectful ceremony, addressing him as teacher. No one dared remain seated after that; even Lan Yu, reluctant as ever, was forced to stand.

“The Imperial Preceptor is surely a busy man. What brings you to my humble household today? I fear we lack the funds to forge you any imperial swords,” Lan Yu said curtly, making it plain he was not welcoming Wei Mo Cheng, refusing even to offer him a seat.

Wei Mo Cheng seemed unfazed, standing calmly in the hall, smiling as he replied, “The Duke’s household celebrates a great joy today. I am here to offer congratulations, and to present a modest gift.”

Yet, despite mentioning a gift, Wei Mo Cheng held nothing in his hands.

“Spare me, please. My Lan family is unworthy of such generosity from the Imperial Preceptor,” Lan Yu retorted with biting sarcasm.

“The old Duke has served our Great Yan tirelessly for a lifetime. He is more than worthy. And this gift, whether you wish to accept it or not, you must,” Wei Mo Cheng replied with a gentle laugh, his words leaving Lan Yu no room to refuse.

“That’s peculiar. I’ve lived many years, but never have I seen a gift that cannot be declined!” Lan Yu’s face darkened as he thundered, “Today, I refuse your gift, Wei Mo Cheng. What can you do about it?”

A hush fell over the hall. Everyone knew the long-standing animosity between the Imperial Preceptor and Duke Lan; none dared intervene, not even the Crown Prince or the Prime Minister Zhou Shi Bo, who remained seated.

Yun Que, observing from a distance, saw and heard everything clearly and had a good sense of the underlying cause. The feud between Duke Lan and the Imperial Preceptor likely revolved around the imperial sword. The forging of the Emperor’s Sword had drained resources and stirred public resentment, naturally attracting opposition. Duke Lan Yu was the leading voice against it, while the Imperial Preceptor aided the Emperor in its construction. Yun Que had heard rumors that the sword’s forging was first proposed by the Preceptor himself, and due to its massive scale, it remained unfinished after years.

Despite Duke Lan’s forceful stance, Wei Mo Cheng kept smiling and replied lightly, “The gift is here. Will the Duke not kneel to receive it?”

With those words, Wei Mo Cheng withdrew something from his sleeve. Lan Yu was about to curse, but upon seeing it, he fell silent and reluctantly dropped to one knee.

“I, your loyal servant, receive the decree!” he declared.

The Preceptor’s gift was nothing other than an imperial edict. Any other gift Lan Yu could refuse, but the imperial mandate was different. To refuse it was high treason, punishable by death.

At the sight of the decree, everyone in the hall was stunned and stepped aside.

The imperial edict was lengthy. Its first half offered congratulations, celebrating the wedding in Duke Lan’s household and listing an array of lavish gifts. But the second half took a sharp turn—it was an appointment, naming Duke Lan Yu as the Chief Commander of Sword Forging, entrusting him with full authority over the Emperor’s Sword, and demanding completion by year’s end.

When Wei Mo Cheng closed the decree, Lan Yu’s face was pale with fury, his teeth clenched. The old Duke was on the verge of eruption.

Lan Yu had opposed the forging of the sword for years, submitting countless memorials and even losing face with public outbursts in the palace. Yet the Emperor had remained obstinate, ignoring all advice.

Now, with this imperial edict, Duke Lan was made Chief Commander of Sword Forging—transformed from the leading opponent to the principal overseer. It was as if he had been placed directly in the line of fire.

If Lan Yu accepted the decree, he would become a double-faced traitor, his reputation ruined; if he refused, his head would not be spared.

Wei Mo Cheng waited with a calm smile, holding the decree, unhurried.

Many in the hall were anxious for the old Duke.

In the oppressive silence, the newlywed groom, adorned with festive red flowers, hurried forward to accept the decree on his grandfather’s behalf.

“My grandfather is advanced in years. Please forgive him, Imperial Preceptor. Our Lan family will do our utmost to assist you in forging the sword,” Lan Yu Sheng said respectfully, his demeanor humble before the Preceptor.

“Young men are to be admired,” Wei Mo Cheng replied with a smile. “Marriage is a great milestone in a man’s life. Now that you are wed, you should prepare to inherit your family’s legacy. This nation belongs to the young, and will never thrive if it is forever controlled by the old.”

With a sweep of his black robe, Wei Mo Cheng departed, laughing.

The hall was silent for a long time.

With just a few words, he had stripped all joy from Duke Lan’s household, publicly humiliated the old Duke, and subtly sowed discord between grandfather and grandson. The Imperial Preceptor was indeed a master of intrigue.

A sharp slap rang out in the hall as Lan Yu struck Lan Yu Sheng’s face in fury.

Lan Yu Sheng clutched his face and bowed his head, saying solemnly, “Grandfather, the imperial decree cannot be refused! I know you do not wish to be remembered as one who brought suffering to the people through sword forging, but our Lan family has always served the monarch loyally. When the Emperor commands, his ministers must obey—even at the cost of their lives. Better a short pain than a long one. If we help speed the forging, once the Emperor’s Sword is finished, peace will prevail throughout the land.”

Lan Yu Sheng’s words drew nods from several military officers.

Over the years, thanks to Duke Lan’s influence, most generals had fiercely opposed the forging of the Emperor’s Sword, risking dangerous political games and covert defiance. A little at a time was manageable, but years of resistance had worn everyone down. They could not risk pushing the Emperor too far, lest they lose their heads.

Now, with the sword nearly finished, many felt it wiser to help complete the task and be done with it.

A second, harsher slap landed on Lan Yu Sheng’s face, blood appearing at his lip.

“Fool!” Lan Yu glared at his grandson and cursed, “Do you know how many families have been ruined for this sword? How many craftsmen have died beneath it? I tell you, in the five years of forging, at least ten thousand lives have been lost! The fate of our Yan Kingdom has not improved, but our wealth and the people's hearts are nearly exhausted!”

With righteous fury, the old Duke pointed skyward and declared, “So long as I, Lan Yu, draw breath, I will not add a single brick or sliver of copper to that sword!”

His loyalty lay not with the Emperor, but with the people.

All present were moved to solemn respect.

The Crown Prince, sitting at the place of honor, opened his mouth to speak, but did not. Despite representing the Emperor, he had little authority before such a stubborn, outspoken old man who dared defy even the ruler.

“Calm yourself, old Duke,” said the Prime Minister, seated beside Lan Yu. “There has been unrest among the northern tribes lately. The Emperor’s urgency to forge the sword is understandable. Today is a day of celebration for your grandson’s marriage. Let us leave state affairs aside and rejoice in the union.”

With Zhou Shi Bo’s intervention, Lan Yu managed to suppress his anger.

The wedding banquet continued.

Yet neither hosts nor guests could muster their earlier enthusiasm; their smiles were strained, the Duke’s residence shrouded in gloom.

Lan Yu Sheng, though struck twice, soon regained his composure and busied himself with pouring wine.

Just then, Yun Que stood, took a cup of wine, and with a gentle smile approached the young Duke.

Zhou Yuan Liang perked up, ready to see what would unfold.

The drama was about to begin.