King of Ash

The two of them then went their separate ways for a few days.

Gu Jinghong had already woken up by this time.

The injury to my left rib area still causes dull pain, but my spirits have improved considerably.

She slowly propped herself up and sat against the headboard, watching the sun gradually rise higher. She then took out the South Wind Secret Box from her bundle, put on a thin cloak, and walked towards the desk in the side room.

The desk was located by the window. She sat down and placed the South Wind Secret Box in front of her.

Her slender fingers gently touched the sealed box—the patterns on the box were intricate and mysterious, neither quite a picture nor quite text, and the touch on her fingers was clear and smooth.

Gu Jinghong frowned slightly. This secret box actually used the Linglong Technique—without relevant classic texts as a reference, it would be tantamount to courting death.

It seems we still need to consult relevant classic texts to find a way to open the box.

But where could one find books on mechanical arts...? A thought quietly emerged—the prince's study.

Gu Jinghong still remembers being stunned by the unique bookshelves that covered the entire wall when she first entered the study of Prince Jin's mansion. Coupled with the slightly "outdated" map behind the prince's desk, Gu Jinghong had a feeling that the study must contain the book she was looking for.

However, it's not so easy to enter the study of Prince Jin's mansion. Even Changfeng needs the prince's permission to enter. Zhixin once mentioned unintentionally that a maid who tried to go in to clean was directly sold to a bitter and cold place.

Gu Jinghong's heart sank. With the power of the King of Ashes, she shouldn't have danced in his forbidden zone so many times. But this box is no longer just something the Lord of the Tower cares about. Gu Jinghong must take the initiative and find out what's inside the box.

A moment later, Gu Jinghong saw Xiao Chengyan in his royal court attire and Changfeng riding away in the distance. After the Prince's mansion returned to calm, she quietly got up.

Outside the study.

The heavy rosewood door was tightly shut, and the brass animal-head door knocker on it gleamed coldly, silently proclaiming the inviolability of this place.

"Miss...Miss!" Zhixin ran after her, her face pale and her voice trembling. "Where are you going? That...that's the Prince's study! Entering without the Prince's permission is..."

She didn't dare to continue, only shaking her head frantically, her eyes filled with fear.

“I know.” Gu Jinghong interrupted her, his voice calm but his eyes unusually firm. “I have something I must find out. Zhixin, you stay outside. If anyone comes… cough.”

Gu Jinghong reached out, paused just before touching the study door, then unlocked it without hesitation and pushed open the heavy door.

"Squeak—"

The door hinges made a slight creaking sound, which was particularly clear in the excessively quiet corridor. Gu Jinghong slipped inside, quickly closed the door slightly, leaned against the cold door panel, held her breath, and listened intently to the sounds outside.

After confirming that no one had noticed, she breathed a long sigh of relief, came to her senses, frowned, and felt a dull pain in her left rib again.

This wasn't Gu Jinghong's first time visiting Xiao Chengyan's study, but in the past, Xiao Chengyan was always there when she was there, and he never took any books from the bookshelf, so she didn't think the towering sandalwood bookshelf was particularly imposing.

Only today did I realize how enormous this bookshelf was. It was overflowing with books, a vast collection, meticulously categorized and arranged with an almost rigid neatness. The air was filled with the subtle scent of aged paper and ink, mingled with a faint aroma of camphor, creating a serene and solemn atmosphere. Sunlight streamed through the mica sheets in the high windows, casting dappled shadows on the floor.

Gu Jinghong scanned the layers one by one, beginning her search with a clear objective.

Time slips away with the rustling sound of turning pages at your fingertips.

Sometimes she would tiptoe to reach the books on the upper shelves, her brows furrowing in pain as she tried to aggravate her injury; other times she would simply sit on the ground, spreading several thick books out on her lap, comparing the patterns on the sealed box.

She found several copies of "Gazetteer of the Southern Territory," and turned to the tattered pages recording ancient totems; a dusty book of "Study of Ancient Patterns," some of the lines in which were somewhat similar to those in the secret box; and a volume of "Secret Records of Metal and Stone," the description of a certain lost alloy on which made her heart race... The clues were like scattered pearls, though not strung together into a chain, they gave her hope.

Gu Jinghong carefully flipped through the book, her focus making her forget the time and temporarily shielding her from the pain and tension in her shoulder.

Lost in thought about solving the puzzle, she was completely unaware that every time she reached out or bent over, it aggravated the injury under her ribs, bringing sharp, stabbing pains, and her forehead was already covered in a fine layer of cold sweat.

The prolonged concentration and post-injury weakness felt like heavy shackles. Finally, clutching the thickest volume of "The Secret Records of Metal and Stone," she leaned against the cold bookshelf, her head bobbing up and down, her consciousness completely swallowed by the boundless darkness and exhaustion...

Her cheek was pressed against the cool pages of the books, and her loose strands of hair concealed her pale and weary face. She fell into a deep sleep amidst the pile of books, and did not even hear Zhixin calling her from outside.

As the sun set and the sky began to slant, Xiao Chengyan returned home.

He has been very tired from his time in the court recently.

Firstly, undercurrents are surging, and old problems remain unresolved. Although there is no major war in the Great Yong for the time being, several remnants of the forces whose backbones were once crushed by his iron hooves have recently shown signs of colluding, with frequent reports of unusual movements. Even more troublesome are the old ministers in the court who rely on their seniority and past merits to serve the emperor, and are accustomed to acting arrogantly due to their age.

They dared not openly question him, the powerful Prince Jin, but instead used veiled criticism and indirect attacks on key issues such as military supplies and border defenses. A single sentence, "Your Highness is a master strategist, naturally you have no worries about food and provisions," implied his militarism; another, "The mountains are high and the roads are long, the soldiers have it tough," alluded to his callousness and ingratitude.

These seemingly innocuous words, though not fatal, require considerable mental effort to decipher and suppress, making them more exhausting than actual combat.

Secondly, the dispute over military spending escalated into heated debate. The old fox, the Minister of Revenue, presented this year's budget with a mournful face, mentioning that the cost of reinforcing several military fortresses in the southwest and developing new weaponry was nearly 100,000 taels more than in previous years! This immediately drew a barrage of criticism from a group of civil officials and censors. They cited classical texts, arguing that "even a large country will perish if it loves war," and condemned this move as "a waste of national funds and a drain on the people's resources."

He had to personally intervene, meticulously refuting everything from the threat from the southwest to the significance of new weaponry in reducing casualties. Every figure and every reason had to be presented forcefully and irrefutably. A court assembly became like a debate with a group of scholars on the battlefield; he not only had to suppress dissent but also constantly guard against the traps laid by the civil officials in their words, never daring to relax his vigilance for a moment.

Thirdly, the Emperor's will is unpredictable, and his intentions unclear. His father listened to the debate between the two factions with a calm and unwavering expression, only saying indifferently at the end, "Military and national affairs are of paramount importance, concerning the safety of the nation. The necessary funds should be discussed in detail by the Ministry of Revenue and the Ministry of War, ensuring thoroughness." This seemingly fair "detailed discussion" was, in reality, a way of passing the buck back to Xiao Chengyan, and also revealed a subtle check on his monopolistic control of military affairs…

A ruler's heart is as deep as the sea; this suspicion and weighing of options is the most exhausting invisible shackle. For example, his title "King of Ashes" is quite interesting.

When the Crown Prince was ordered to inspect the southwest, Xiao Chengyan accompanied him. Suddenly, a once-in-a-century plague broke out, accompanied by powerful warlords using the plague to cause chaos. The epidemic spread like wildfire, rumors spread, and popular uprisings broke out. Unfortunately, the Crown Prince died in the chaos.

In an instant, the southwest was devastated. The army's morale collapsed, the government was paralyzed, the people's hearts were scattered, and rebellion banners were everywhere. The rear of the Great Yong Dynasty was wide open and in grave danger.

It was Xiao Chengyan, at the age of eighteen, who, at the most critical moment, with the power of leadership, used iron and blood, fire and sword to pull the Southwest back from the abyss of collapse. This feat can be described as supporting the heavens and protecting the Southwest, and rebuilding the Southwest.

But while the Great Yong Dynasty was safe, the emperor was troubled.

Firstly, it was felt that Xiao Chengyan's contributions to the southwest should be rewarded with the title of king; otherwise, it would discourage meritorious officials and make the imperial family appear harsh. Therefore, the emperor had no choice but to grant him the title.

Secondly, they were dissatisfied with Xiao Chengyan's methods and felt threatened by his growing power. Therefore, they made a fuss about the title bestowed upon him, both to belittle and to warn him, and thus were unwilling to grant him the full title.

After much deliberation, the title "King of Ashes" was given to him. This title not only served to diminish his status but also reminded him that everything he had came from imperial power. He should be controlled like "ashes" and not allowed to spread like wildfire. This was unprecedented in history.

Xiao Chengyan was naturally aware of this, but he had never cared about the title. Today, the tension and fatigue from the court had not yet dissipated, and Xiao Chengyan walked towards his study with an almost subconscious wariness and sharpness.

The moment he pushed open the door, he keenly sensed something unusual—in addition to the familiar scent of books and ink, there seemed to be a faint medicinal fragrance in the air.

Xiao Chengyan was taken aback, his gaze sweeping across the room like lightning before settling on the floor in the corner of the bookshelf.

Someone's there!

A chilling rage surged to his head, his eyes suddenly sharpened like knives, the pressure around him plummeted, and his inner strength slowly gathered in his dantian. Who dared to be in the study of the King of Jin's mansion?!

Suddenly, a figure in a crimson robe flashed through Xiao Chengyan's mind, his eyes twisted and greedy. The pressure around him plummeted, and his body subconsciously began to slowly mobilize his inner strength as he stepped closer.

The moment he turned around, the raging fury that was about to erupt vanished as if it had hit an invisible barrier.

So, is he being overly sensitive?

Gu Jinghong was found curled up in a pile of books, wearing a thin cloak, sleeping soundly without any guard.

—Is it on the cold floor of such a study?

Xiao Chengyan felt an extremely complex emotion welling up in his heart, followed by an overwhelming sense of helplessness and a trace of heartache that he himself did not even realize.

He stood still, not moving forward immediately.

My gaze shifted from the slight red mark on her pale face left by the pages of books to the several books scattered on the floor that had clearly been turned over—"Gazetteer of the Southern Territory," "Study of Ancient Patterns," "Essential Techniques of Mechanical Engineering"...

Then it went to the book "Jinshi Milu" that she was clutching tightly in her arms, and finally to her injured left shoulder—even in her sleep, the bandage seemed to make her frown slightly.

So... she risked breaking into the study for these books?

For that thing she worked so hard to get on New Year's Eve, which also annoyed him?

This thought made Xiao Chengyan's heart feel as if it had been lightly bumped by something.

He sighed silently, tiptoed over, and carefully and gently picked up the books scattered on her and around her, brushing away any dust that might have settled on the pages, and carefully putting them back in their original places.

Then, he took off his dark fox fur cloak, which still carried the chill of the outside air, bent down, and carefully covered her with the thick, warm fur, wrapping her curled-up body.