Chapter 30: Haha, You'll Be Dead Next Year

Zhao Kuangyin gripped his jade axe, shouting at Li Cheng with undisguised, surging murderous intent, his tiger-like eyes tinged with a faint crimson. Clearly, his emotions had been stoked to the breaking point. It seemed that at any moment, he might lose all restraint and split Li Cheng in two right there on the spot.

"What ulterior motives could I possibly have? The Emperor asked me these questions, and I simply answered with the truth. These are facts clearly recorded in the annals of history." Li Cheng withstood the terrifying pressure of Zhao Kuangyin’s presence, answering with neither servility nor arrogance. At a time like this, maintaining composure was paramount.

"The Emperor is the head of the family, holding the entire Zhao clan in his heart, and treats his younger brother with even greater affection. Yet, the Prince of Jin is unworthy of this care, and even less deserving of such fraternal love! The Emperor regards him as a brother, but in his eyes, there is only the throne beneath the Emperor’s seat. Since ancient times, wealth has stirred the hearts of men; how much more so for the throne? From the very beginning, the Emperor granted him immense power—appointing him Magistrate of Kaifeng and bestowing the title of Prince of Jin. His position has long remained above that of the Second Prince. Having gathered a faction around him, it is inevitable that ambition would take root. The Emperor rose from the chaos of the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms; how many have slaughtered one another for the sake of the throne? No matter how close the bond, it is worth nothing before that seat of power! Why does the Emperor possess such confidence that he can be the exception?"

Li Cheng looked at Zhao Kuangyin, his words lacking any trace of polite restraint. Zhao Kuangyin was indeed a man who valued affection deeply, treating his kin with unrivaled devotion. It was precisely for this reason that Li Cheng needed to use such provocative language to shake him awake, to force him to gradually accept the truth and hold "Old Second Zhao" to account.

"My third brother has always respected me as his elder, valuing family ties just as I do, and he knows his place. He has also been very good to Rixin. We have spent so many years together; I know his character better than anyone." Zhao Kuangyin remained entirely unmoved by Li Cheng’s words.

"The hearts of men are separated by skin; the Duke of Zhou felt fear when rumors spread, and Wang Mang was humble before he usurped the throne. Had they died in those early days, who would have truly known their nature? Only when the coffin lid is nailed shut can a verdict be finalized. To name but one example: were the sons of Zhu Wen not filial? Who would dare call them unfilial? They were so filial that they even sent their own wives to serve their father. But what was the result? How did Zhu Wen die? I believe the Emperor knows that better than I."

"I am not like Zhu Wen, so disgusting as to commit such acts! And my third brother is nothing like those sons of Zhu Wen—shameless and capable of any vile deed!"

Zhao Kuangyin brandished the jade axe, his words still dripping with cold, murderous intent. Any goodwill or newly established trust toward young Li was, at this moment, utterly eradicated.

*Zhao Guangyi is not a shameless man?* If the circumstances were different, Li Cheng would have burst out laughing. This was the most ridiculous joke of all. If he had any moral bottom line, if he were not a man without shame, he would never have committed all those wretched deeds! Li Cheng hoped that as the Emperor grew to trust him more, once he learned from him what "Old Second Zhao" had truly done, he would still believe his younger brother had a moral compass.

"The Emperor has indeed never done such things. Your reputation as an emperor is excellent; you are one of the few benevolent rulers since the chaos of the Five Dynasties began." Li Cheng seized the moment to offer a compliment, hoping to cool the Emperor’s temper so he wouldn't actually be hacked to death. "However, the Emperor is just like Zhu Wen in one regard: you have delayed naming an heir for far too long. Since you intend for the Second Prince to be your successor, why not confirm it? Why, instead, keep the Second Prince in a position subordinate to the Prince of Jin for so long? Why grant the Prince of Jin such immense power? This is the surest path to catastrophe!"

Zhao Kuangyin, lost in his own thoughts, calmed down at a visible pace—at least on the surface. He no longer resembled a raging tiger ready to tear Li Cheng to pieces.

"I only wish for Rixin to walk a steadier path. I have already begun to elevate his status. On one side is my own son, and on the other, my own brother; I do not wish to harm either. With my position and methods, I can manage these affairs, and the situation you describe will certainly not come to pass. Governing a great nation is like cooking a small fish; the matter of the heir concerns the foundation of the state, and thus requires caution, deliberation, and a gradual approach."

"The Emperor's intentions are noble," Li Cheng nodded, smoothing things over once more. "But this 'gradual approach' of yours has taken too long—it is far too gradual! To this day, the Emperor has reigned for fifteen years, yet the Second Prince does not even hold the title of Marquis, let alone a princedom. Contrast this with the Prince of Jin, who has long held great power and was further elevated to the rank of Prince. He is the only member of the Zhao clan to be granted such a title. Given this, what is the Prince of Jin to think? What are the courtiers to think? What is the Second Prince to think? Yes, the Emperor has ability and lacks no means. Given enough time, you could indeed resolve the succession issue with gentler measures, minimizing the harm to the Prince of Jin and balancing power with affection."

"But, Emperor, have you not heard that the heavens have unpredictable clouds, and men have unpredictable fates? Have you never considered that if your life were to reach its end soon, you would have no more time to pursue this 'gradual approach'? What if you were to pass away without ever having settled the succession? What would happen then?"

"What?!"

The once-calmed Zhao Kuangyin was jolted by these words. His expression shifted, and his body trembled almost imperceptibly. "That is impossible. I am but forty-nine years of age, in good health; I can eat two buns and two large bowls of millet porridge at a single sitting, along with plenty of vegetables. I can draw a two-stone bow and swing my dragon-patterned staff a hundred times without breaking a sweat. How could I possibly show signs of a short life?" Zhao Kuangyin shook his head in denial.

"The Emperor has campaigned for many years; are there no old wounds?" Li Cheng pressed.

"There are old wounds, but only on my left leg and right shoulder, which ache when the weather turns cold or rainy. My chest and abdomen have never been wounded, nor do I harbor any hidden ailments. Aside from those two spots, I have no discomfort." Zhao Kuangyin answered firmly.

Recalling the state of Zhao Kuangyin’s body since they met, and listening to his words, Li Cheng was convinced that the Emperor was not lying—nor did he have any reason to. This further confirmed that the Emperor was indeed murdered by the "Donkey-Cart War God," Zhao Guangyi. The common speculations that the Emperor suffered from long-term combat injuries or hidden illnesses could effectively be dismissed.

"From what you say, my lifespan is seemingly not long?" Zhao Kuangyin asked, looking at Li Cheng with a calm expression.

Li Cheng watched him closely, searching for some sign of his true feelings. Alas, his face was too dark, and he was intentionally masking his thoughts; Li Cheng saw nothing. Quietly taking two steps back to increase the distance between them, Li Cheng finally spoke: "The Emperor is correct. Your lifespan is indeed not very long."

"Then... when do I pass away?"

Li Cheng took another cautious step back before answering: "The ninth year of Kaibao, the twentieth day of the tenth month... that is to say, next year..."