Chapter 97: A Little Independent Kingdom

Chai Yun was twenty years old, significantly older than Han Ruzi. But in temperament, he still behaved like a child in many ways. He arrived at the gate in with great fanfare, surrounded by a group of companions and servants. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks, slightly lowered his head, and glanced at the invited deposed emperor. It was as if he had finally acquired a spirited horse after crying and longing for days. He was now judging the horse’s quality, and if it didn’t meet his expectations, he would lose his temper, making it clear to everyone that he was not someone who could be easily deceived.

As Han Ruzi dismounted, Zhang Youcai and Du Chuanyun stood on either side, and compared to the opposing crowd, they were clearly outnumbered. Du Chuanyun was even prepared for a fight. According to his experience in the pugilist world, such a silent standoff was a prelude to a brawl.

Before leaving, the Manor Clerk had specifically reminded the Weary Marquis not to pay respects before the host. Regardless of Lady Hengyang’s power and influence, Chai Yun, being a Cavalry Attendant of the Emperor, was of much lower status compared to the Weary Marquis.

So Han Ruzi didn’t move, and Chai Yun while scrutinized him, Han Ruzi also assessed Chai Yun. He glanced at Chai Yun’s followers as well and couldn’t help feeling disappointed that he didn’t see Prince Donghai or Cui Teng.

Chai Yun had fair and flawless skin, like a carved jade, but his gaze held a hint of brutality. If not for that, he would have appeared somewhat like a girl dressed in men’s clothing.

Cui Xiaojun had warned the Weary Marquis not to mock Chai Yun’s effeminate demeanor. It was said that Chai Yun had once killed someone over this matter, and the victim was not an ordinary commoner. But their family dared not report the incident to the authorities and had to endure it in silence.

Seeing the youth before him, pampered in every way, Han Ruzi found it hard to believe that he had personally taken a life. Rumors often exaggerated the truth, both in court and in the pugilist world.

Suddenly, a smile appeared on Chai Yun’s face, bright and warm, and the brutality in his eyes vanished. He looked more like an innocent child now, just with a tall stature. He clasped his hands together and approached, saying loudly, “I’ve been eagerly anticipating your arrival. I can finally get a good look at you.”

“Have we met before?” Han Ruzi returned the gesture. This wasn’t a formal introduction. They would do without formalities for now.

Chai Yun naturally took hold of Han Ruzi’s arm and turned to address the crowd, saying, “Last year, I gazed up at the Marquis within the Imperial Palace, and at that moment, I couldn’t help but think, what a waste of such a remarkable figure. Being emperor sounds glorious, but it’s actually laborious, more tiring than being a servant. Us common children would have a more carefree life. Little did I know that the Marquis would truly cease being the emperor one day.”

Among the group of noble sons, only Chai Yun could refer to himself as “common children” with a straight face. And only he dared to mention the former Emperor’s past in public. Perhaps it was his innocence or perhaps it was laced with irony; no one could tell for sure. In any case, everyone joined in with hearty laughter.

Han Ruzi also chuckled. “Then don’t disappoint me. Let me see what being carefree truly means.”

“I didn’t misjudge you. I knew we could be friends,” Chai Yun said happily, grabbing the Weary Marquis’s arm and walking towards the others. He introduced more than a dozen guests, all sons of, princes, lords, and ministers. Their titles were too numerous to remember. There were also five or six individuals dressed in luxurious clothing who eagerly agreed with Chai Yun regardless of what he said. Their smiles never fully disappeared, but they didn’t warrant any introductions, as if they were merely servants.

Lady Hengyang’s seventieth birthday celebration was in full swing in the main hall. Chai Yun’s small banquet was held in a separate courtyard, smaller in size, but it had the advantage of lacking the oversight of elders, providing Chai Yun with a sense of freedom.

This was Chai Yun’s independent little kingdom. When he extend his hand, a servant would offer a full glass of wine. A single word from him could elicit cheers from the entire hall. If there was a lull, a dwarf performer would come forward to do somersaults and tell jokes. If the atmosphere grew awkward, a guest would eagerly change the subject…

Only Han Ruzi didn’t need to curry favor with Chai Yun. He was the most distinguished guest here, and he was a “rare treasure” that Chai Yun had specially showcased. They sat together at the main table, enjoying the attention of the crowd. However, there was one thing Han Ruzi couldn’t decline—he had to drink, continuously. As soon as his cup was emptied, it was immediately refilled. He felt like he had drunk more today than in all the years before.

After three rounds of drinks, a servant came to call Chai Yun to bow and pay respects to his grandmother, who was celebrating her seventieth birthday. Just as he left, the atmosphere in the courtyard took a sudden downturn. The previous excitement seemed like a dream, and when the dreamer woke up, it shattered. Those who had flattered Chai Yun put away their forced smiles, some rested, and the dwarf performer and servants greedily indulged in food and wine. The guests either sat in a daze or engaged in hushed conversations, unwilling to waste interesting topics in their host’s absence.

With Chai Yun gone, Han Ruzi’s true nature was revealed. He was a deposed emperor, and he was alone. No one came over to talk to him, and there weren’t even any glances in his direction.

Zhang Yanghao was an exception. He was the one who had invited the Weary Marquis, so he couldn’t appear too distant.

“Is the Marquis enjoying his drinks?” Zhang Yanghao stood in front of the table and asked in a low voice.

Han Ruzi was quite tipsy and thought he was speaking quietly, but everyone in the room could hear him. “Are we going to just be drinking and chatting? When are we going to play dice?”

Zhang Yanghao smiled knowingly. “We’ll do that after dark, but today, we’re not playing dice. Little Marquis Chai has something new in store; the stakes are even higher, you will definitely be satisfied.”

Although Chai Yun had not yet officially inherited his title, people were already calling him “Little Marquis.”

Han Ruzi also chuckled. Du Chuanyun had assured him that he had no fear of gambling, so he leaned over and gave Zhang Yanghao’s shoulder a couple of hearty pats. “You’ll get your thirty percent.”

His voice was still a bit too loud, making Zhang Yanghao blush. He quickly said, “No, no, this time I’m not participating at all. The wins and losses are all on you.”

As Zhang Yanghao turned to leave, Han Ruzi grabbed him. “Give me some inside information first.”

Zhang Yanghao sighed. “I really don’t know, but one thing’s for sure— Little Marquis Chai knows how to play, and he won’t let you down.”

Han Ruzi let go of Zhang Yanghao and turned to Du Chuanyun, who was standing beside him. Du Chuanyun was staring at the remaining wine on the table. In the pugilist world, he was a well-known figure, and wherever he went, he received a warm welcome. He didn’t often have the experience of standing aside while watching others eat and drink to their heart’s content.

“What are we waiting for?” Han Ruzi said.

Du Chuanyun smiled, unceremoniously picked up the wine jug, and took a swig. He then grabbed a piece of stewed meat with his hand and said to the reserved Zhang Youcai, “This is why I don’t like being a eunuch. Sooner or later, I’ll return to the pugilist world.”

Zhang Youcai snorted softly. He had come from the palace, and even if his stomach was growling and his mouth was watering, he had to remain composed and not embarrass his master.

Zhang Yanghao set an example, and a young nobleman approached and bowed to the Weary Marquis, saying, “Does the Marquis remember me?”

“You’re the grandson of Prince Zhongshan…” Han Ruzi tried to recall Chai Yun’s introduction but couldn’t remember the name.

“I’m Wen Qian, my father is currently the Prefect of Zhuo Prefecture.”

“Ah, Young Master Wen, care to have a drink?”

Wen Qian shook his head and leaned closer, speaking softly, “I’m betting big on you.”

“What are you betting on?” Han Ruzi didn’t understand.

Wen Qian lightly tapped the table and glanced at Du Chuanyun, who was eating and drinking heartily. “An army is easy to find, but a general is hard to come by. With this warrior next to you, you need not be afraid of this gamble.”

“Of course,” Han Ruzi still didn’t quite understand. But before he could ask further, Wen Qian had already turned and walked away.

With his alcohol-induced drowsiness wearing off partially, Han Ruzi observed discreetly. He noticed that some of the guests occasionally stole glances towards the main table, and their interest seemed to be not in the deposed emperor but in Du Chuanyun, who was busy with a wine jug in one hand and a piece of fat meat in the other.

“Help me change my clothes,” Han Ruzi said, and Zhang Youcai immediately stepped forward. Assisting his master to stand up, Zhang Youcai then kicked lightly at Du Chuanyun. It took Du Chuanyun a moment to realize what was going on, and he put down the wine and meat, wiping his hands on his clothes, and then supported the Weary Marquis on the other side.

The courtyard was not large, and the latrine was not far from the main hall. After the Weary Marquis left, it seemed to have become even livelier inside.

“Just pee if you need to. Why say ‘change clothes’? I was so confused since we didn’t bring any extra clothes,”[1] Du Chuanyun complained to Zhang Youcai.

Ignoring him, Zhang Youcai said nothing. Han Ruzi stepped out of the latrine, feeling a bit unsteady on his feet. However, his mind was much clearer. “Du Chuanyun, you need to be careful. They’ve probably figured out your background.”

“So what? I know that none of the best dice players in the Capital are here today. Even if it’s one against a hundred with these young noblemen, I can still win.”

Han Ruzi shook his head, thinking that things were not that simple. “How can I get the wine out of my system?”

Without a word, Du Chuanyun punched the Weary Marquis in the stomach, then stepped back. Han Ruzi involuntarily bent over and retched, while Zhang Youcai lightly patted his master’s back. “I didn’t have a chance to warn you…”

Han Ruzi straightened up, took a handkerchief from Zhang Youcai, wiped his mouth, and smiled. “Much better.” Then he said to Du Chuanyun, “They definitely want to gamble on something other than dice today. When they propose a game, give me a signal. If you’re confident we can win, give me a single tap. If not, give me two taps.”

“Got it. Anyway, we must win. Losing would be embarrassing.”

The three of them walked back to the banquet hall, and Zhang Youcai said, “Du Chuanyun, you need to be careful with your strength. This is our master, not an enemy.”

“He’s your master. My grandpa and I are here as a favor to Yang Feng, and to make some money on the side.” Du Chuanyun refused to acknowledge any lower status.

Chai Yun had returned and was circling around in the hall. When he saw the Weary Marquis, his expression changed from gloomy to sunny, and he welcomed him with a big smile. “I thought you had run away.”

[1] “Change clothes” is used as a polite euphemism for going to the loo.

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by Aunomay Read