Chapter 25: Humiliation of the Father

"Not Wei Cui's son?"

The words caused everyone in the room to look over; some were shocked, some were puzzled, but others looked on with meaningful expressions, clearly having heard such rumors before.

"There is a rumor that he is Zhao Tan's..." an official continued.

The Prefect gave a light cough. "Stop talking nonsense."

"My Lord, it might not be nonsense," the official with the meaningful expression said softly. "Back when Zhao Tan held power over the imperial court, the three Wei Cui brothers were all serving under him."

"Indeed. Later, two of the Wei brothers died at Zhao Tan's hands. Wei Cui was fortunate enough to escape and return to Longxi, where he immediately rebelled against Zhao Tan," the Prefect said irritably. "Isn't that exactly the relationship between them?"

"My Lord, when Wei Cui escaped, his wife was still in the capital," the previous official whispered.

Wei Cui had fled and rebelled; how could Zhao Tan not be enraged? He would surely have targeted his wife and children, but...

"Later, Zhao Tan died and His Majesty entered the capital. He discovered that Wei Cui's wife was actually still alive, accompanied by a young son, so he sent both the wife and son back to Longxi..." the official continued, winking suggestively. "The Wei family wouldn't even let this wife and son through their doors; they were kept in a separate villa."

"It is said that back then, Wei Cui's wife had to submit herself to Zhao Tan to save her life," another official hurriedly added.

Therefore, as for who this young son of Wei Cui truly was, one could never be certain.

The chaos of the previous dynasty seemed as distant as a past life, but in reality, it had been less than twenty years. Many things and many people could be recalled in an instant.

The Prefect coughed heavily again. "Enough, stop talking. You people are truly..."

He looked toward the doors and windows with a hint of unease.

"It is one thing to discuss this privately at other times."

"But Wei Jiao is here."

Although this was his living quarters and his trusted subordinates were stationed outside, the Embroidered Uniform Guards were omnipresent and unpredictable.

The room fell silent instantly.

The night wind swayed, causing the branches and leaves to rustle erratically.

In the brightly lit hall of the prefectural office, Wei Jiao leaned lazily against the desk, holding a brush and writing something on paper in a rhythmic, aimless manner.

"Oh, they are discussing my lineage," he said.

An Embroidered Guard, looking grim and irritated, said, "Commander, let me arrest them."

Wei Jiao did not answer, but instead looked at him and said, "Although I was indeed raised by Zhao Tan for five years, I am truly my father's son. When my father fled the capital, I was nearly two years old. My first birthday ceremony was conducted personally by my father."

Was he explaining himself? The guard felt a mix of agitation and anger. "Commander, I know, we all know. Those people are intentionally slandering you."

Having said that, he turned to leave.

"I will go and cut out their tongues right now!"

"No need," Wei Jiao stopped him. "Let them speak."

The guard was puzzled. "But they are insulting you, Commander..."

Wei Jiao waved him off. "Saying I am not my father's son is not an insult to me; it is an insult to my father."

To insult one's father was something a son could not tolerate; he should instead seek vengeance for his father. The guard was about to speak again.

Wei Jiao sat up straight and spoke first.

"And these insults are what my father deserves."

As he finished, the corners of his mouth curled into a smile, his expression appearing pleasant.

The guard swallowed his words. It was said that the Embroidered Uniform Guards were cold and unapproachable, but Commander Wei Jiao was different; his eyes always carried a hint of a smile. However, they did not dare to look directly at such a commander.

The smiling Wei Jiao had no soul, like an empty shell.

"Commander, shall we continue the investigation tomorrow..." the guard asked, changing the subject.

Wei Jiao withdrew his smile. "We have already alerted the enemy; those who needed to run have already fled. There is no need to pursue them for now. Go back."

At this, he sighed again.

"We failed to catch anyone. I have failed His Majesty."

"Then pick a case, seize some property, and make His Majesty happy."

...

...

In the late autumn of the capital, the air had grown chilly after several rains.

As the morning mist dissipated, more people and carriages began to enter and exit the city gates.

Suddenly, the usually orderly city gate became crowded.

The gate guards dispersed inside and out, driving the people and carriages to the sides to clear the main road.

"What is happening?"

"Who needs to pass through?"

"It is the Embroidered Uniform Guards."

The public soon learned the reason: the Embroidered Uniform Envoy, Wei Jiao, was returning from an investigation.

"Who is the unlucky soul this time?"

"You'll find out soon. It's Wei Jiao's habit—he insists on parading them through the streets."

The citizens no longer hurried on their way; instead, they discussed and watched, waiting to see the prisoners being escorted back.

However, there were also those who did not want to watch the spectacle and were in a hurry to leave the city.

Three carriages inside the city had just turned out of an alley when they were blocked by people on the roadside.

"Why have we stopped?"

A servant woman lifted the carriage curtain, frowning in displeasure.

The servant hurriedly said, "The road is blocked. They say they are waiting for the Embroidered Uniform Guards to bring the prisoners into the city."

The woman also saw the guards standing before the city gate blocking the way. She lowered the curtain to relay the message, then lifted it again to hand out a calling card.

"Go tell the City Gate Captain that we are going to Daijue Temple for a memorial service today. The time is fixed; we cannot be delayed."

The servant took the card and squeezed through the crowd to the front. After speaking a few words to the guards blocking the road, he was led to a military officer. The officer took the card, read it, and signaled to several soldiers.

Soon, the soldiers cleared the crowd to make a path, and the servants urged their horses toward the city gate.

"Who is that?"

Passersby discussed with curiosity.

There were many powerful figures in the capital, and it was common to see soldiers making way for them, but there were not many who dared to push ahead knowing it was the path reserved for the Embroidered Uniform Guards.

After all, the Embroidered Uniform Guards were known for being reckless and indifferent to social standing, acting as if they lived only for today; the nobility did not wish to provoke them.

The carriage soon reached the city gate and came to a halt. The woman lifted the curtain, revealing a lady sitting poised inside.

The lady was in her forties; though her features were ordinary, her attire and adornments were magnificent.

"I appreciate your assistance, Captain," the lady said with a kind expression.

The City Gate Captain hurriedly bowed. "You are too kind, Madam." He then gestured forward. "Please, the Embroidered Uniform Guards are almost here."

The lady did not stand on ceremony and lowered the curtain.

A dozen servants surrounded the three carriages as they passed through the city gate. Just as they emerged, they saw a mass of people and horses approaching like a dark cloud.

But that was enough.

The servants did not retreat; instead, they urged their horses to speed up, turning onto a small side path just as the two groups were about to meet.

The Embroidered Uniform Guards ahead had already seen them. As they reached the city gate, one spoke coldly to the Captain standing nearby, "Was that your relative just now? Daring to seize the path of our Embroidered Uniform Guards?"

Anyone capable of becoming a City Gate Captain did not come from an insignificant background; their elders were bound to be trusted, loyal generals who had fought alongside the Emperor.

The Captain showed no fear and replied coldly, "My relative would not have the fortune to take your path. That was the Lady of Duke Ding'an."

The guard snorted and was about to say something when a voice came from behind.

"The House of Duke Ding'an?"

Hearing this voice, the City Gate Captain withdrew his disdain and lowered his eyes. He was not afraid, but there were certain people one could not provoke.

He heard the rhythmic sound of galloping hooves, and then saw a corner of a robe fluttering, revealing a flash of bright red. Wei Jiao stopped before him.

"The Lady of Duke Ding'an?" Wei Jiao asked again.

The Captain bowed his head and replied, "The Lady of Duke Ding'an is rushing to pay respects to the deceased; she has already selected a time at Daijue Temple."

A guard beside him whispered, "Shall we investigate if it is true?"

In the past, if someone had fabricated a lie to bypass them, the Embroidered Uniform Guards would have made sure they truly became "the deceased" during their memorial service.

Wei Jiao waved his hand. "No need. I know roughly who is being memorialized." He gave a reminder to the guard, "Baima Town, Luxian."

The guard remembered and nodded, signaling for Wei Jiao to proceed.

Wei Jiao urged his horse forward, but suddenly stopped again, looking in the direction the Lady of Duke Ding'an had gone. "How many carriages just left the House of Duke Ding'an?"