Tome of Troubled Times-Chapter 637: I Like Vermillion Bird the Most

Huangfu Qing’s expression was conflicted. “Why... why would it ever come to such a choice? The venerable and you aren’t in conflict...”

Zhao Changhe found her hesitation oddly endearing and could not help but smile. “No conflict? Do you really think so? From the moment we met, didn’t you know the venerable intended for you to win me over?”

Huangfu Qing huffed. “Winning you over isn’t the same as spying on you! What are you thinking?”

“The very need to win me over implies our interests aren’t completely aligned. We’re partners, not true allies.” Zhao Changhe sighed. “Qing’er, the cult calls me the Fire Pig of Shi, but the truth is, neither of the venerables ever treated me as a subordinate. My role has always been a matter of cooperation. From the very beginning, they knew I didn’t share their faith.”

Huangfu Qing fell silent. Zhao Changhe spoke the truth. Both sides were well aware of the nature of his position. Black Tortoise had never seen him as a direct subordinate. And she, as Vermillion Bird, had never truly regarded him as a member of the cult. It was an unspoken reality—a delicate balance sustained by mutual understanding and the occasional jest.

But perhaps the time had come to confront this reality head-on.

“They never consult me on critical matters of the faith,” Zhao Changhe continued. “Take the upcoming ceremony to appoint a new cult leader, for instance. Do you think they’ll ask me to attend? Of course not. It’s not even a consideration. Technically, it has nothing to do with me. Am I wrong?”

Huangfu Qing sighed. “You’re not wrong... In truth, they don’t see you as one of the faithful. If you feel left out, I can speak to the venerable. If you want to attend the ceremony, it’s not hard to arrange...”

Zhao Changhe’s smile was tinged with irony. “Do you really think I care about attending the ceremony? The real issue is that the venerable and I do not share the same goals. On some matters, we’re bound to clash.”

Huangfu Qing hesitated. “Is it just about the treasures here? You’ve never struck me as someone who cares about material wealth. Why is this different? If it means so much, I can talk to the venerable. She’s not stingy—she’d probably let you take it all...”

Zhao Changhe chuckled. “All I need is a handful of sand and access to the forge. Strictly speaking, even the sand isn’t for me. If anyone should be concerned, it’s the venerable.”

Huangfu Qing did not quite grasp the full meaning behind his words, but the implication was clear enough. Zhao Changhe was not after the treasures themselves. He simply wanted to redefine the nature of their relationship.

She pondered for a moment, understanding why Zhao Changhe had chosen this moment to clarify things. In a newly established nation, determining whose voice carried the most weight was no trivial issue. These were not concerns that could be brushed aside with pleasantries. Zhao Changhe might support Xia Chichi, his beloved, but that did not mean he was willing to serve the Four Idols Cult.

If the cult decided to hold some brutal, sacrificial ritual to honor their gods, where would that leave Zhao Changhe?

These lines needed to be drawn now before conflict arose. Ignoring the issue would only sow the seeds of future disaster.

If this conflict began over the question of ownership, the core issue was never about the treasures themselves. The real question was: Who decides? He could relinquish the claim, but the decision had to be made collectively, not dictated unilaterally.

Huangfu Qing had to admit that, even though she was his woman, she would never prioritize his interests.

She was Vermillion Bird, representing the interests of the Four Idols Cult. Not only could she not favor Zhao Changhe’s position, but if Xia Chichi showed even the slightest inclination to lean his way, she would be the first to reprimand her. The reason for suppressing Chichi’s romantic entanglements had always been this: a saintess must remain pure because attachment to a man risked compromising her loyalty. She couldn’t say this outright to Chichi, instead couching it in terms of doctrine and public perception. But anyone who truly understood knew the real reason.

Unless Zhao Changhe himself came to embody the interests of the Four Idols Cult, their paths would inevitably diverge.

Huangfu Qing’s very identity made her a mediator between Zhao Changhe and Vermillion Bird. With that realization, she sighed softly. “Changhe, don’t put me in such a difficult position... I’m still one of the Twenty-Eight Mansions. What you’re asking of me feels like tempting me to betray my faith.”

Zhao Changhe replied calmly, “It’s hardly that serious. There isn’t some insurmountable rift between me and the cult—we can find common ground.”

Huangfu Qing nodded. “That’s true. Of course, we can. I once asked you if you wanted to see Venerable Vermillion Bird kneel before you. I hoped you’d inherit the Night Emperor’s legacy, for if you did, even the cult leader would bow to you. Even the Venerable herself might harbor a glimmer of that expectation. The Night Emperor’s sword blank is in your hands, after all. She hasn’t tried to take it back; she’s left it to you to forge. That alone speaks volumes.”

Zhao Changhe’s eyes glimmered. “And in that expectation, which is stronger: the hope that the Night Emperor will return, or that I will succeed?”

Huangfu Qing fell silent. She did not know.

She had never thought it necessary to distinguish between the two. But now that he posed the question, she realized the difference was significant.

Zhao Changhe pressed further. “If I truly had no connection to the Night Emperor, does that mean our interests would never align?”

Reluctantly, Huangfu Qing admitted, “Yes.”

The words hung in the air like a foreboding omen—an unspoken prelude to a breakup. Huangfu Qing sighed inwardly, dreading the possibility of a rift.

But then Zhao Changhe’s face broke into a radiant smile. “Alright, alright. If it’s that difficult for you, how could I force you to choose? I’ll think it over and try to find common ground with the venerable.”

Relief flooded through Huangfu Qing. While she was loyal to the Four Idols Cult, she genuinely did not want to fall out with Zhao Changhe. Whether for personal reasons or the current political landscape, she could not afford to lose him. She had braced for a confrontation, only to find him suddenly easing off.

“You... why did you back down so suddenly?” she asked, her voice full of curiosity.

“Because I can’t bear to force you.” Zhao Changhe’s voice was gentle. “Why would I put you through such a cruel choice between loyalty and love? This is between me and the venerable—I’ll find a solution myself.”

He sank to the ground, pulling her into his embrace. He kissed her cheek softly, his lips brushing her skin. “Even if you do side with her, I won’t blame you. Your loyalty to the cult is one of your greatest virtues. How could I resent that?”

He spoke the truth. If Vermillion Bird remained steadfast in her conviction, Zhao Changhe would respect that. Everyone had their own path to walk, and no one lived solely for a man. Setting aside personal interests, he admired Vermillion Bird’s resolve. In many ways, it mirrored Tang Wanzhuang’s unwavering dedication.

Huangfu Qing’s heart softened. She leaned against his shoulder and whispered, “I know you see the venerable’s devotion as misguided, especially since you’ve slain gods yourself. To you, divinity holds no special meaning. But Changhe, a belief instilled from childhood isn’t easily shaken. If it were, she wouldn’t have reached where she is today. And... the cult’s current strength is built on her tireless efforts. Imagine telling her that everything she’s fought for is meaningless. How would that feel?”

He asked softly, “You feel the same way, don’t you?”

“...Yes, I do,” Huangfu Qing finally admitted. “Changhe, if I asked you—for my sake—to give a little ground, to avoid clashing with the venerable when possible, would you?”

Without hesitation, Zhao Changhe replied, “Of course I would.”

Of course he would do that. He was doing that. If not for the fact that she was Vermillion Bird, he might have confronted her directly by now. Instead, he tread carefully, choosing diplomacy over conflict. He added, “As long as it’s not a matter of principle, I can tolerate her instructions for your sake. Take these treasures, for example. If she insists on controlling their distribution, I’ll step back and let her decide. I won’t argue.”

A smile bloomed on Huangfu Qing’s face. “Mm...”

She knew the venerable would not push him to his breaking point.

His willingness to compromise warmed her heart. She leaned in and kissed his cheek, her voice a sultry whisper, “How should I reward you for that?”

Zhao Changhe’s gaze darkened with desire. “Well... since I’m to be gracious to her, shouldn’t you spoil me in private?”

She blinked and asked, “And how do you want to be spoiled?”

Leaning close, he murmured in her ear, “Wear a mask like hers and serve me—let me feel like I’m desecrating the mighty Vermillion Bird herself.”

Huangfu Qing’s expression froze, caught between shock and amusement.

“It’s just a game, a bit of fun,” he coaxed her. “As long as you don’t tell her, she’ll never know. It’s just a secret between us, a playful indulgence. Is that too much to ask?”

She scowled, half-annoyed, half-enticed. “What kind of thoughts do you harbor about the venerable?”

Zhao Changhe chuckled. “Haven’t I told you how beautiful I find Vermillion Bird?”

He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, “To be honest, I want her. Deep down, it’s my most hidden desire.”

Huangfu Qing did not know whether to be angry or smug. The little scoundrel actually desired her true self. You rogue. I knew you weren’t entirely innocent.

The warmth of his breath on her ear sent shivers down her spine. Her heart fluttered, and after a moment, she sighed. “You really enjoy tormenting me. If you’re so bold, why don’t you dare say that to the venerable herself?”

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He laughed softly. “Indulge me first.”

Reaching into the pile of materials, Zhao Changhe grabbed a pliable piece of crimson metal, its surface glinting with a subtle radiance. With deft fingers, he shaped it into a half-mask, a rough imitation of Vermillion Bird’s own.

“It’s not an exact match, but it’ll do.”

She hesitated, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. If it were too accurate, she would not dare wear it in front of him. The risk of exposure was too great. But this... this was just a playful approximation.

Before she could decide, Zhao Changhe slipped the mask over her face. “It’s made from soft gold infused with stellar fire. Fitting for Vermillion Bird, don’t you think?”

Huangfu Qing sighed in resignation, feeling the cool mask against her skin. She studied his expression anxiously, relieved to see no hint of suspicion.

He smiled, pleased. “It’s almost perfect... only your eyes lack her steely gaze.”

She rolled her eyes, a wry smile curling her lips. Then, with a voice dripping in mock reverence, she purred, “Well then, Your Majesty... behold, Venerable Vermillion Bird at your service.”

She leaned in, her lips brushing against his.

Zhao Changhe drew a shaky breath, his hand threading through her hair. For a moment, he could not speak, overwhelmed by the rush of desire.

This was his reward—and it was intoxicating.