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Lord Long Yang
墨書 Inktalez
The candlelight by the bedside flickered, casting shadows that danced across the disheveled bedding, mingling with the rich, intoxicating scent of musk that filled the room, creating an atmosphere of decadence that constantly teased King Wei's senses.
Ruji's gentle and enchanting form lay beneath the silk quilt, her long legs glimmering like white jade in the candlelight. Her sleeping face was pure and innocent, reminiscent of a child.
This encounter had not brought him any satisfaction; instead, it deepened the emptiness that already resided within him.
He draped a thin robe over his shoulders and slowly rose from the bed.
Ruji instinctively clutched the quilt, murmuring "My king" in her sleep before sinking back into a deeper slumber.
In the stillness of Showa Hall at midnight, a cool silence enveloped him, broken only by the sound of his solitary footsteps, leaving behind an air of lifelessness.
When did it all begin?
He often wandered like a ghost through the depths of this midnight palace.
Having inherited his mother's timid and fearful nature, he grew up under the scrutinizing gazes of the ministers who doubted him.
Unlike his brother Lord Xinling, who possessed courage and strategy, he was merely fortunate to be the legitimate heir.
Earlier that day, in Qinghe Hall, he had been engaged in a game of chess with Lord Xinling.
Suddenly, a soldier burst in with news that the Zhao Kingdom was mobilizing troops at their borders, causing him to break into a cold sweat.
"Brother Wang, don't worry. King Zhao is just here for a hunt; there's no need for you to be so frightened!"
Lord Xinling smiled lightly, his carefree demeanor starkly contrasting with the panic that gripped him.
The room was filled with close ministers and favored servants, all of whom were watching him intently.
It was rather laughable that King Wei could be so cowardly, wasn't it?
He did not envy Lord Xinling's calmness in the face of danger, but as a ruler, he lived in constant fear, unsure of when the ancestral legacy entrusted to him by his father might be carelessly destroyed.
It wasn't until more soldiers confirmed that King Zhao was indeed just hunting that he finally exhaled deeply.
By chance, he met Lord Xinling's gaze, which held a mix of mockery and pity. In that moment, he realized that to his half-brother, he might merely be a backdrop.
His identity and fear only served to highlight Lord Xinling's intelligence and courage; to Lord Xinling, he was nothing more than a supporting joke in the grand scheme of things.
"Why?" he whispered to himself in the silent courtyard, his voice like a sharp blade cutting into his humble heart.
He had to admit that he was indeed inferior to his brother; even seated on the lofty throne, he could not measure up to even a fraction of what his brother possessed.
Yet still, he felt a sense of unwillingness and pondered whether there was anything within him that Lord Xinling lacked.
Or perhaps there existed someone who could discern even a glimmer of brightness amidst his dark and chaotic existence?
“Does my brother mean to test the loyalty of the gentlemen in my household towards me?”
Lord Xinling wore a half-smiling expression, as if reminding King Wei that he was engaging in an act of self-humiliation.
King Wei nodded. He did not believe that everyone could possess the same depth of strategy as Lord Xinling from birth.
He could not fathom that anyone would not love fine garments and soft beds, or prefer to be his favored minister, where high positions and wealth would surely outweigh the simple fare at Lord Xinling's mansion.
“I know you are all Lord Xinling's right-hand men, brave souls willing to serve him! However, capable ministers are scarce in my court, and few can share my burdens. I truly wish to know if any among you would be willing to accompany me into the palace, to offer counsel and help me become a wise ruler, alleviating the worries of the world and the suffering of the people?”
“My King, since Lord Xinling is your brother and a noble of Wei Kingdom, serving him is tantamount to serving you!”
An elderly man named Hou Ying, with white hair and beard, respectfully knelt on the ground in response.
Upon hearing this, King Wei's large hand, hidden within his wide sleeves, instinctively clenched tighter.
As he looked at the kneeling guests, his heart sank into despair. Suddenly, from the crowd, someone stood up with a sword in hand: “I, Long Yang, am willing to recommend myself to My King and serve at your command!”
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