Volume One, Chapter 9: When Clouds Darken, the Moon Should Dim (Part One)

On the other side, after leaving the palace, Yang Guang returned to the Prince of Jin’s residence, with Yuwen Huaji following him.

“Your Highness, the current situation is extremely favorable for us,” Yuwen Huaji remarked as they entered the study. Yang Guang began preparing to play the guqin while listening.

“Indeed, but we must not be careless,” Yang Guang replied calmly, his fingers soon coaxing a gentle melody from the strings, filling the room.

“If I may say, Yang Yong is truly dull-witted. Compared to Your Highness, the difference is like heaven and earth,” Yuwen Huaji sighed appreciatively, his words flattering yet truthful.

Yang Guang lifted his gaze briefly, eyes deep and discerning as he regarded Yuwen Huaji, before returning his focus to the guqin, speaking softly, “I have heard that Father once vowed that Mother was the only woman he would ever need. Mother’s domineering nature in matters of affection is well known, and Father feared her greatly. Those close to him are aware of this; how could Yang Yong not know?”

Yang Guang paused, narrowing his eyes slightly. Yuwen Huaji immediately caught his meaning and continued, “Just now in the great hall, the Empress expressed displeasure at the Emperor’s gaze lingering on the dancers and musicians, reminding him openly. The Emperor did not refute her but seemed somewhat flustered. Surely Yang Yong observed this clearly.”

“Exactly. That is why he laughed aloud in the hall,” Yang Guang continued, understanding his brother’s mind all too well. “My elder brother is the most fickle-hearted. Having three thousand beauties in his palace already displeases Mother greatly. Now, openly losing composure in the hall, mocking Father’s fear of Mother, even showing disdain—how could Mother ever be satisfied with him?”

Yuwen Huaji smiled broadly, his eyes gleaming with triumph. “Isn’t this just him bringing misery upon himself?”

With Yang Yong’s character, Yang Guang need not lift a finger; the Crown Prince’s position was already unstable.

Yang Guang smiled faintly and fell silent. Yet he knew well that despite Yang Yong’s recklessness, he remained the legitimate eldest son and Crown Prince. It was impossible to depose him lightly, especially since many ministers supported him. No matter how talented Yang Guang was, he lacked those advantages.

Beyond cultivating himself, Yang Guang also needed to build his own power base, especially militarily. Politically, he had Yuwen Huaji—though not as capable as Gao Heng, he held high rank and could be of use.

But the military aspect was far more difficult.

The seasoned generals who had followed Yang Jian through countless battles each wielded considerable influence but would never easily pledge allegiance. The younger, newly risen officers were mostly mediocre and held insignificant positions; Yang Guang had no interest in recruiting them.

This would restrain Yang Guang’s development for some time and could even affect his future fate—it was a matter to be taken seriously.

Seeing Yang Guang continue playing the guqin without speaking, Yuwen Huaji presumed there was nothing more and bowed. “Your Highness, if there is nothing else, I shall take my leave. Since returning yesterday, I have yet to visit my residence.”

At this, Yang Guang stopped playing, looked up with a lighter expression, and spoke more gently, “The campaign against Chen was arduous. Now that the New Year has passed, I shall soon send my New Year’s gift to your residence.”

“Your Highness is too kind. It is my duty to serve you,” Yuwen Huaji quickly expressed his gratitude.

Yang Guang rose slowly. With official business concluded, he relaxed and was willing to chat casually. After a moment’s thought, he asked, “On this New Year’s Day, has Young Master Yuwen returned to the residence?”

“Your Highness, I believe so,” Yuwen Huaji answered uncertainly, caught off guard by the sudden question. Yuwen Chengdu was studying away; he only returned home for New Year. Yuwen Huaji wished to see his son soon, lest they part again after only a brief meeting.

Yang Guang nodded. “I recall Chengdu showed remarkable spirit even as a child. Dedicated to study in the mountains, his future is boundless.” Perhaps he would become a pillar of support for Yang Guang. He could never forget those eyes—clear and resolute, handsome yet firm, sharp-featured. Even as a child, Yang Guang recognized his extraordinary nature.

Yuwen Huaji’s smile grew warmer as he nodded earnestly, promising to raise his son well.

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Yuwen Huaji took his leave. Only now, after months of campaigning, could he truly return home. Mentioning Yuwen Chengdu stirred a pang of longing in him; he wondered if his son had changed much over the year apart.

Elsewhere, at the Yuwen residence, shortly after lunch, Yuwen Chengdu rested briefly before rising to practice martial arts. With the New Year passed, he had just turned seven.

From birth, not only Yuwen Huaji but Chengdu himself held strict expectations. The boy was disciplined, understanding many truths beyond his years. His childhood knew no laughter, only harsh punishment and heavy sorrow.

Chengdu’s mother, Yuwen Huaji’s primary wife, had died soon after his birth, the cause unknown—at least to the young Chengdu.

Not long after, Yuwen Huaji remarried. Though the new wife was never granted the status of primary consort, she bore a son—Chengdu’s younger brother.

She managed all household affairs and naturally made things difficult for Chengdu, who, without a mother’s care, endured many hardships within the residence.

Especially when Yuwen Huaji was away…

Originally, Yuwen Chengdu was diligently practicing martial arts alone in the courtyard, reviewing techniques his master had taught.

At that moment, Yuwen Chenglong burst in, grabbed a sword, and began wildly swinging it about. Though only two years younger, Chenglong was utterly unskilled in martial arts, spoiled by constant pampering and learning nothing.

Chengdu intended to play with him a while, but Chenglong’s erratic swordplay nearly injured himself several times. Worried, Chengdu hurried over to teach him proper technique but was pushed away when he grasped his brother’s hand.

Where Chenglong found such strength was a mystery. Chengdu stepped back two paces, then quickly followed, fearing his brother might hurt himself.

Chenglong swung the sword carelessly, left and right, deliberately aiming it at Chengdu with a malicious grin—it was no playful jest.

Chengdu dodged sideways just in time, but Chenglong was less fortunate. Losing balance, he stumbled forward and fell heavily to the ground.