Chapter 190 |
The hand Qu Dubian held slowly grew cold, then chilled to the bone.
He didn't know how long he had been sitting there. It wasn't until the eighty-one tolls of the Mourning Dragon Bell had finished ringing that he finally heard the sound of weeping spreading outside beneath the echoes of the bell.
Subconsciously, he raised a hand to wipe his cheek. A faint trace of moisture appeared on his fingertips.
-
That Prince Yong would become the new Emperor was something almost everyone had guessed.
When Eunuch Yu subsequently brought out the final edict drafted by the Chongzhao Emperor for the court officials to pay their respects to, this fact was thoroughly solidified.
The three Grand Ministers of State—Prince Ming, Grand Tutor Fang, and another—had known the contents of the edict a short while in advance. According to custom, the Emperor's body needed to lie in state at the Hall of Ancestral Worship for seven days before being moved to the Imperial Mausoleum.
According to the laws of the Great Zhou, the new Emperor would formally ascend the throne three days after the passing of the predecessor. He would then oversee the burial of the late Emperor in his capacity as the new sovereign. Three months later, once the ceremonial robes were completed, a formal coronation ceremony would be held.
However, this rule was not mandatory. It had simply been established by those who believed that an early ascension brought peace of mind and prevented unforeseen complications.
Once the final edict was formally read aloud again at the hall, an official from the Ministry of Rites followed established precedent and stepped forward to begin the formal proceedings.
"The state cannot be without a ruler for a single day. We implore Your Highness, Prince Yong, to ascend the throne at an early date!"
Among the officials, some were truly grieving, others were faking it, but most felt a sense of loss and sighing resignation. However, what concerned their futures most was the new Emperor—their new superior.
Previously, during court sessions, His late Majesty had asked them to beg Prince Yong to ascend. Where was the need to beg now? The final edict was right here; could Prince Yong possibly refuse to ascend?
They were officials with dignity, after all. They couldn't allow themselves to be completely manipulated by the new Emperor from the very beginning.
With a new boss taking over, once they heard the Ministry of Rites start the process, they followed suit. They were prepared to wait for Prince Yong to say the usual diplomatic platitudes: "Today, I inherit the foundation of my ancestors. The weight of a century-old dynasty rests upon my shoulders. I am still young and hope that you, my ministers, will work together with one heart..." Then they would weep a bit more, and finally kneel to congratulate the new Emperor on his ascension, shouting "Long live the Emperor" three times. It would be over. All that would remain was the coronation three months later, which would pass quickly.
As it turned out, they waited for a long time, but they never heard Prince Yong mention the ascension.
Question marks seemed to pop up over the ministers' heads.
The court historian’s brush stopped mid-stroke as he looked up.
At that moment, His Highness Prince Yong, dressed in mourning white, stood at the head of the Hall of Ancestral Worship with his back to them. He tossed back only six words: "We'll talk later. There's no rush."
Those six words made everyone's hearts tremble.
Had it been anyone else, they wouldn't have overthought it. But His late Majesty had personally said before his passing that even he wasn't sure he could get Prince Yong to agree to the succession.
The Minister of Rites suddenly felt as if dozens of eyes were boring into his back. He could only silently step forward and ask on behalf of the others, "Your Highness, how long must we wait?"
Qu Dubian replied, "Hard to say."
Having said that, he went off to keep watch over the coffin.
Joining him in the vigil were Zhiyi, Sihe, the Third Prince, Prince Ming, and various imperial concubines. Ordinarily, the First Prince would not have been eligible to attend, but Qu Dubian ignored the grumbling officials and brought him along anyway.
Qu Dubian went inside, but few of the officials outside left. They drifted toward Grand Tutor Fang and whispered:
"Hasn't His Majesty already written Prince Yong's name in the final edict? It's a matter of nodding his head to ascend. Why won't His Highness nod?"
Fang Hechuan arched an eyebrow. "It is written; we saw it with our own eyes. However, when His Majesty wrote it, Prince Yong was not by his side, nor did he obtain Prince Yong's consent."
In truth, he knew perfectly well that according to Eunuch Yu's account of the scene at the time, Prince Yong had agreed. He just didn't know why the Prince was delaying it.
Perhaps he wanted to temper the temperaments of the court officials? Or perhaps there was something else.
Once he spoke, the officials who had previously remained steady began to lose their composure.
What did Grand Tutor Fang mean by that?
...Prince Yong surely wouldn't run away, would he?
-
All subsequent matters regarding the Chongzhao Emperor were handled according to the rites and regulations for imperial funerals.
An Emperor's mausoleum was usually constructed starting from the moment of his ascension and sealed upon his death. The Chongzhao Emperor's mausoleum had long been prepared. Led by the Ministry of Rites, Qu Dubian followed every rule and step without omission, seeing him buried within the tomb.
All in all, it took about a month.
The Great Zhou was without an Emperor for a month, yet it remained perfectly stable. Most government affairs were handled by Prince Yong in his spare time during the mourning period. He had experience handling administration on the Northern Frontier, so he picked it up quickly. He didn't need to personally review every trivial detail, and the three Grand Ministers were certainly not useless.
It was just that... aside from official business, they couldn't find a trace of Prince Yong.
They didn't know where he was, what he was doing, or what he intended to do.
He didn't hold court and didn't wake up early. Two or three days were fine, but as time stretched on, they felt uncomfortable all over.
Every time they thought of the empty, likely dust-covered dragon throne in the Palace of Heavenly Ultimate, they felt a hollow sense of anxiety—like parents whose neighbor's child had already started school while their own was still running wild outside.
Once the funeral rites for the Chongzhao Emperor were concluded, the officials thought with nervous excitement: Surely he will ascend now?
Then came the bad news—
Prince Yong was staying at the Seventh Prince's Estate. He claimed that staying in the Imperial Palace made it too easy to be overcome by grief, and he needed time to recover.
...Fine.
They forced understanding smiles. Filial piety was paramount; there was no arguing with that.
After the civil and military officials offered their smiling understanding, they turned around and went to pester the three Grand Ministers. Failing that, they grabbed Eunuch Yu's hand, begging him to ask Ye Xiao'yuan if there was a specific timeline for the ascension.
During this period, Eunuch Yu was handing over the duties of the Chief Steward of the Imperial Palace to Ye Xiao'yuan. Once Prince Yong ascended, Ye Xiao'yuan, who had always been by his side, would be the new Chief Steward.
Recalling the expressions of those officials who were practically on the verge of tears, Eunuch Yu couldn't help but ask, "Steward Ye, His Highness... what has he been doing these past few days?"
Ye Xiao'yuan's reply was watertight. He smiled and said, "Memorials and official business; all must be handled."
Eunuch Yu said worriedly, "He can handle them after he ascends, too. In all my years, I've never seen the court officials look like that..."
Like a resentful husband abandoned by his wife, or a neglected wife ignored by her husband.
They all stared at you with those mournful, brooding gazes. One would be bad enough, but a whole crowd of them... it made it feel as though he, Yu Decai, had personally let them all down.
Not to mention he didn't want to; even if he did, he didn't have the "equipment" for that kind of drama.
Eunuch Yu rubbed the goosebumps on his arms. "Steward Ye, we've known each other for so many years. Give me a hint?"
Ye Xiao'yuan said, "I truly do not know."
He did know, but he absolutely could not say.
-
The Seventh Prince's Estate.
In a secret chamber within the bedroom.
A pale, thin man lay on the bed.
A thick layer of gauze was wrapped around his chest. The near-fatal wound had not yet fully healed, even after more than a month.
It was the Fourth Prince.
Qu Dubian sat by the bed, his fingers pressed against the man's pulse, slowly and steadily channeling true qi into him.
His brow was slightly furrowed.
That day, the Fourth Prince had pierced his own heart with a longsword without a moment's hesitation. However, in a stroke of luck amidst misfortune, he had never stabbed anyone before; the blade had not struck his heart with precision, merely grazing it and damaging the cardiac meridians.
Fortunately, the blade was narrow. Had it been even slightly wider, not even the gods could have saved him.
At the time, Qu Dubian had acted swiftly to stop the bleeding and helped his brother lie down, constantly channeling true qi into him to barely preserve a thread of life.
This matter could not be publicized—not even Imperial Physician Yang could be told. The only ones who knew the truth were Qu Dubian, Liuliu, and Ye Banban.
Qu Dubian had merely consulted Imperial Physician Yang for a prescription to treat heart meridian injuries, then sent Yi Shier out to find other doctors for additional prescriptions. The medicine was brewed within the estate and fed to the Fourth Prince.
The first few days were truly perilous. Qu Dubian had to keep a close eye on the Ministry of Rites to ensure no one noticed that the Fourth Prince was missing from his coffin, avoiding complications and ensuring the burial proceeded quickly. Meanwhile, he had to calculate his time meticulously, returning to replenish the true qi in the Fourth Prince’s body before the internal energy of the Mian Shou Manual was exhausted.
After a long time, the Fourth Prince’s condition finally stabilized. He no longer required daily infusions of true qi, only needing them once every few days.
Except... he never woke up.
He seemed to have fallen into the deepest of slumbers; because it was too comfortable, he was no longer willing to open his eyes. Even the Mian Shou Manual could not rouse him.
Qu Dubian looked at the face that could now be described as gaunt and said in a low voice, "Fourth Brother, are you really going to keep sleeping like this? Staying in a dream, never waking up?"
The Fourth Prince remained silent and unresponsive.
Yi Shier said, "It is normal for a person to be unwilling to wake up after suffering a severe shock. Your Highness, give him the Pill of Forgotten Sorrows."
The Pill of Forgotten Sorrows was something the Prince had obtained from an unknown source. It was said that upon consuming it, one would forget all the events of their past.
Qu Dubian had taken it out long ago, but he had hesitated, never giving it to the Fourth Prince. He had said he wanted his brother to make his own choice, but who could have expected the Fourth Prince would choose to escape by never waking?
Qu Dubian rubbed a small medicine bottle in his hand.
A long time ago, he had obtained this from the simulator’s lucky draw. The description was just a single line: Forget the turmoil of the past; the world’s worries I shall not know.
The moment the Fourth Prince attempted suicide, Qu Dubian had thought of this item. That was why he had said those specific words to him.
Yet, when the moment finally came to feed it to him, he hesitated.
He had hesitated until now, and the Fourth Prince still hadn't woken up. Instead, his condition seemed worse than it had been a few days ago. If this continued, his life force would gradually wither away.
After a moment, he steeled his heart and raised a hand. "Liuliu, bring water."
Yi Shier poured a cup of water and helped Qu Dubian prop the Fourth Prince up. Qu Dubian pinched the Fourth Prince's chin, forcing his mouth open, and fed him the Pill of Forgotten Sorrows.
About fifteen minutes later, the furrow between the Fourth Prince's brows slowly smoothed out, and his breathing became light and shallow. His eyelids flickered as if he were about to wake.
Qu Dubian gave him a quick pinch at the back of his neck.
The Fourth Prince immediately fell back into a deep sleep.
Yi Shier asked, "Does Your Highness not wish to see him?"
Qu Dubian did not answer immediately. He only said, "Arrange for Fourth Brother’s departure as soon as possible. Use the ferry."
Yi Shier replied, "The West River Ferry on the outskirts of the capital can be controlled. Will Your Highness be going as well?"
"Yes," Qu Dubian said. "I will go to see him off."
"Understood."
-
The Fang Residence.
Xi Shiqiu came to find Fang Hechuan for a drink.
Normally, these two—one a middle-aged man and the other an elderly one—didn't drink much. They had to attend the early morning court sessions, and as they aged, their metabolisms had slowed; drinking made them sluggish the next day.
But now, there was no need for such considerations, as court had not been held for over a month.
Xi Shiqiu said, "It’s been so long, yet you haven’t gone to find the Prince of Yong. You really have the patience of a saint."
Fang Hechuan replied, "Talking to him is useless. He isn't even nineteen yet. Why press him so hard?" Though nineteen was not yet the age of the capping ceremony, he was already considered an adult. Fang Hechuan knew his words were a bit biased even as he spoke them.
He coughed lightly and added, "Besides, has anything gone wrong in the imperial court?"
"..." Xi Shiqiu set down his wine bowl and sighed. "Nothing has gone wrong, but I feel as if a stone is hanging over my heart."
He was considered one of the steady ones. He hadn't seen how many times the other officials, and even members of the imperial clan, had looked toward the Seventh Prince’s estate and sighed.
"If this continues, the late Emperor’s words about the civil and military officials weeping at the Prince of Yong’s gates might actually come true."
Fang Hechuan asked, "It’s already come true. You didn't know?"
"???"
Seeing his confusion, Fang Hechuan said slowly, "Half an hour ago, Lin Zongping organized the officials and swarmed toward the Seventh Prince’s estate. They should be arriving about now. Shall we go take a look?"
Xi Shiqiu exclaimed, "Why didn't you say so earlier?! The wine is already drunk!"
Fang Hechuan replied, "You were the one who started talking the moment you arrived. I only just found an opening to speak. No rush, though. If we go now, the timing should be just right."
Xi Shiqiu grabbed him and ran toward the Seventh Prince’s estate.
They were, in a sense, the Prince of Yong’s teachers. If he agreed to ascend the throne at the gates of the estate, it would look terrible if they were late!
-
The Seventh Prince’s Estate.
Lin Zongping stood at the very front. To his left and right stood the Minister of Rites and Prince Ming.
The Minister of Rites was dressed immaculately, holding the imperial crown, the black-and-gold dragon robe, and the imperial boots with both hands. His expression was solemn.
Lin Zongping said to Prince Ming, "Your Highness, please begin."
Prince Ming nodded, looked toward the gates of the Seventh Prince’s estate, and shouted clearly, "The civil and military officials are all gathered here! We beseech the Prince of Yong to ascend the throne!"
Lin Zongping led the hundred officials in kneeling, clasping his hands as he shouted, "We beseech the Prince of Yong to ascend the throne!"
"We beseech the Prince of Yong to ascend the throne!"
They were giving him an immense amount of face.
The officials thought to themselves: Isn't he just trying to make us, the ministers, bow our heads first? Then we shall bow. The relationship between a new monarch and his subjects always requires a bit of friction at the start. Perhaps this would even go down in history as a tale of virtuous ministers knocking on the door to plead for a wise ruler.
First, they heard a burst of barking from inside the estate. Then, Ye Xiaoyuan pushed open the door. Seeing the spectacle outside, he froze for a second. "My Lords...?"
Prince Ming said politely, "Eunuch Ye, please invite His Highness the Prince of Yong out."
The Minister of Rites added, "The ceremonial robes for the enthronement ceremony haven't been finished yet, but we have the standard imperial attire. The Imperial Weaving Department had the Prince of Yong’s measurements and rushed this together."
Ye Xiaoyuan replied, "But His Highness isn't at the estate today."
"..."
A heavy silence fell.
Prince Ming asked, "Then where did he go?"
Ye Xiaoyuan was puzzled. "He went to the outskirts of the capital to handle some business."
His Highness hadn't hidden his movements. There were so many people in the capital; had no one noticed?
Another silence followed.
Suddenly, some mindless soul shouted at the top of their lungs—
"The Prince of Yong has run away!!!"
"Quick, after him!!"
The crowd surged away in a chaotic rush. Soon, someone gathered intelligence: "The Prince of Yong went to the West River Ferry!"
The crowd swarmed toward the ferry.
Left behind were two men. Xi Shiqiu glanced at Fang Hechuan. "You said he wouldn't run?"
Fang Hechuan stammered, "...It might not be running away."
Doubt began to creep into his heart, and he suddenly felt unsure. It was hard to say. After all, everyone has moments of rebellion and fits of temper.
The old man, who had been calm from the beginning, could no longer remain composed. He took two hurried steps forward, only to grit his teeth and retreat back.
“Call back Lin Zongping and those from the Ministry of Rites. Do not disturb him; I trust him.”
-
Jingxi Ferry.
Xia Fuyang and Xi Zihang, leading a troop of soldiers, stood guard eight hundred meters away, clearing the surrounding area of all bystanders.
They didn't know why Qu Dubian had come here, and they didn't ask. They simply found a pavilion, sat down to drink tea and chat, and kept an eye on the ferry.
It was a crisp autumn day, and because of the distance, they couldn't see clearly what was happening over there.
Xi Zihang said, "He said he was seeing off a friend, but I wonder which friend is worth such attention from him."
Xia Fuyang gave a soft click of his tongue. "Indeed. He had everyone in the vicinity cleared out."
Xi Zihang remarked, "This setup doesn't look like he's seeing someone off; it looks like he’s planning a getaway. No wonder the officials in the capital are worried sick. Minister Xi has lost a few more strands of hair over this."
Xia Fuyang kept his eyes fixed on the ferry. Finally, unable to help himself, he stood on the pavilion’s platform to get a better vantage point. "Just who is it..."
When did he make another close friend behind their backs?
Xi Zihang lifted his teacup, blowing gently on the surface, his eyes downcast to hide his thoughts.
He had a guess...
However, it was a guess that could never be verified, nor should it be.
At the ferry.
A cool breeze ruffled the air, and yellowed willow leaves drifted onto the water, following the current.
The river surface swayed slightly, and the black-roofed boat moored at the dock rocked with it.
Yi Shier stood at the stern, guarding the post.
The interior of the boat was different from a standard vessel; it was designed for sleeping. It was just the right size for one person, with small hooks for hanging sundries and compartments on both sides for belongings.
The Fourth Prince lay peacefully inside.
Qu Dubian adjusted the pillow for him, straightening his head, and tucked another pillow into his arms for him to hold.
The Fourth Prince’s body had a memory of its own; he instinctively hugged the pillow tight, rubbing his chin against it.
Qu Dubian found the sight amusing. He took a prepared letter and tucked it into the Fourth Prince’s robes.
“I don’t know what the effects of the Oblivion Pill will truly be like—whether it will even wipe away the things you've learned. But... you should forget all the troubles here in the capital.”
The good and the bad.
The moments of joy and the moments of despair.
Let it all vanish like smoke.
“I don't know if making you forget everything is a good or a bad thing. I’ve taken the liberty of deciding for you; I hope you won't blame me, Fourth Brother. Regardless, once you pass on, you’d have to drink the Soup of Forgetfulness anyway. It’s all a settled matter—the past is forgotten either way. Just let me be a little selfish, knowing that you are still in this world, knowing that I still have a brother who is very close to me.”
Qu Dubian paused for a moment. “I almost forgot.”
He retrieved a wooden plaque from the sachet at his waist.
He had bored a hole through the wood and threaded it with a colorful cord to make a pendant.
He placed the plaque around the Fourth Prince’s neck.
“Fifth Brother gave this to you. ‘No ripples, no waves; peaceful and smooth.’ He carved it himself. Fifth Brother doesn't blame you either. Originally, this was meant to be burned for you... Fortunately, he didn't use ‘yin wood’ for the carving, otherwise, it wouldn't be suitable for you to wear while living.”
The Fourth Prince’s lips twitched slightly; it was unclear what he was dreaming about.
The straight bangs across his forehead were particularly striking.
Ye Banban had cut them; Qu Dubian didn't have the skill for that.
Although the Fourth Prince rarely left the capital, there was still a risk someone might recognize him. For now, the bangs would hide half his face. Once he was clear of the capital region, he would basically be safe.
Slowly, bit by bit, Qu Dubian spoke a great deal.
“A few days before Imperial Father passed away, I was busy covering up your funeral and tending to your wounds in the secret chamber. I didn't go to see him. I didn't know what I could have said to him if we met.”
“Thinking back now, it’s only been a month, yet I can no longer clearly remember how I felt then. I only remember the tolling of the bells, one after another, very loud, very resonant.”
“...Eldest Brother didn't make it in time. He had been demoted by Imperial Father to Lingbei as a centurion. Without an imperial decree, he couldn't enter the palace gates. Uncle Ming said he had tried to persuade Imperial Father to let Eldest Brother come back to see him, but Imperial Father refused. He still felt that Eldest Brother had betrayed him twice, so he was unwilling to see him. But Eldest Brother came anyway.”
The old man probably wanted him back, but just couldn't bring himself to lose face.
Perhaps. Who truly knew what was in his heart?
The Fourth Prince likely felt a constant buzzing in his ear. He frowned, his hand reaching out to grab Qu Dubian’s sleeve, eventually finding his hand.
Thus, he abandoned the pillow to hold onto Qu Dubian’s hand instead.
Qu Dubian let him hold it for a while.
The boat rocked gently. The light outside shifted toward late afternoon, and the wind grew cooler.
From outside, Yi Shier reminded him, “Your Highness, he should be waking up soon.” The effects of the sedative were nearing their limit.
Qu Dubian replied, “I know.”
He pulled his hand away, watching the Fourth Prince’s brow furrow instantly, and stuffed the pillow back into his arms.
Qu Dubian stepped out of the cabin and stood at the stern, glancing back inside one last time.
When Fourth Brother woke up, he would no longer remember him. He wondered if the prince would be able to find his favorite little pillow in the future.
Qu Dubian said, “Liuliu, I trouble you to see him off and stay with him for a while.”
Yi Shier nodded. “Rest assured, Your Highness.”
Qu Dubian jumped onto the shore, and Yi Shier began to work the scull.
The ferry drifted slowly into the distance.
Forget the entanglements of the past; let the world's worries be unknown to me.
Qu Dubian watched them fade away.
From this day forward, there was no longer a Fourth Prince in this world, only Qu Duze.
“Fourth Brother, you are free.”
The mountains are high and the seas are wide; bamboo groves and flowing streams. No more shackles of the past, no more burden of guilt. The hidden network would protect him from the shadows. From now on, he would be an ordinary man, living a peaceful life.
Inside the boat.
The Fourth Prince opened his eyes in a daze.
After a long while, he sat up and lifted the curtain. He saw Yi Shier rowing and, turning his head, saw a light purple silhouette walking far away on the shore.
He asked, “Boatman, who am I? And who are you?”
Yi Shier, wearing a bamboo hat, replied, “In your arms, someone has left you a letter.”
-
Qu Dubian waved to Xia Fuyang and Xi Zihang from afar.
“Let’s go!”
The two left the pavilion. “You finally decided to come out. We’ve been waiting quite miserably, Your Highness.”
Xi Zihang added, “Word has come. The civil and military officials are all waiting for you at the palace gates.”
Qu Dubian paused. “Mm. Let’s go.”
This time he did not stop, heading straight for the palace gates.
The Meridian Gate was wide open.
The civil and military officials were lined up on both sides, with the Imperial Guard stationed nearby.
The Minister of Rites held up the imperial crown and the black-gold dragon robe, saying once more, “We pray the Prince of Yong will ascend the throne.”
Fang Hechuan, Lin Zongping, and Xi Shiqiu also bowed with hands clasped. “We pray the Prince of Yong will ascend the throne.”
The officials echoed in unison.
Qu Dubian lowered his eyes.
Xi Zihang and Xia Fuyang shared a glance and took a step back, standing behind Qu Dubian.
Qu Dubian raised his hand, his fingertips brushing against the dragon robe that symbolized supreme power.
Time seemed to snap back in an instant, and he remembered a certain day seven years ago.
He was twelve then.
He had dragged the injured Agumudo to Yu Ruo’s residence as a hostage. His hands and body were stained with blood. Unable to stand the metallic scent, he had bathed at Yu Ruo’s place.
The Fourth Prince had taken the task of escorting Agumudo back to the Princess’s manor. After dumping the job onto his subordinates, he had pulled Qu Dubian along to head back together since they were going the same way.
He had bathed and seemed to have changed into a set of Yu Ruo’s ill-fitting clothes. His hair was still damp.
He and his Fourth Brother had shared another conversation on the road.
-
On the river.
The Fourth Prince pulled a letter from his chest pocket. The first line read: "Your name is Mian Xiao'an, a super cute name given to you by someone who loves raising dogs. Do not delve into the past of the past, for it has already become meaningless..."
This was a letter written by Qu Dubian after much deliberation.
He worried that the Fourth Prince might attempt to recover his memories due to his amnesia, yet he also felt that, given Fourth Brother’s temperament, he was not the type to be as stubbornly fixated as Fifth Brother.
The Fourth Prince searched his own feelings and found that he truly had no impulse to investigate the past.
He asked, "The person who left the riverbank just now—was that the person who wrote me the letter, the one who likes raising dogs?"
Yi Shier replied, "Perhaps. Or perhaps it was the new Emperor."
Anyone else would have taken that remark as a joke.
The Fourth Prince repeated, "The new Emperor...?"
Suddenly, a fragment of dialogue flashed through his mind.
["Fourth Brother, do you really not want that position?"
He looked down at a young boy, then reached out to straighten the boy’s messy collar and tuck back his damp hair.
"Little Seven, that position really isn't something everyone wants."
How many skeletons lay beneath that throne? Who could count them? How thick was the layer of dried blood upon it? Who could measure it?
What price must be paid to reach that seat, and how many human qualities must be discarded along the way? Who could weigh the cost?
He was fine just as he was.
He escorted the young boy forward.
"Fourth Brother, just take me this far. I'll walk the rest of the way myself."
"Alright."
He added, "If you have the ambition, Fourth Brother will help you."
The young boy didn't look back, merely raising a hand in a wave. "Power is dear, life is worth more; but for the sake of freedom, both may be cast away."
He smiled.
He watched the boy in the oversized, trailing robes as he walked—swaying slightly, lazy and leisurely—into the towering, dark majesty of the Imperial City ahead.]
A blurred fragment flickered in his mind before quickly returning to stillness.
It left behind only a hollow sensation, a dull ache of bitterness.
The Fourth Prince was now called Mian Xiao'an.
He asked, "Where are we going?"
Yi Shier replied, "To the mountains and rivers, wherever you like."
Someone would remain at the highest point, protecting the ones he wished to protect.
-
The evening sun sank low, and the sky grew dim.
Before the palace gates.
Qu Dubian pulled his thoughts back. He set the imperial crown from the wooden tray aside and picked up the black-and-gold imperial robe embroidered with swimming dragons.
Disliking the hassle of the crown, he simply draped the robe over his shoulders for convenience, the wide sleeves hanging naturally at his sides.
Qu Dubian said, "Enter the palace."
Grand Tutor Fang and the others straightened their expressions and immediately stepped to either side. "This official welcomes Your Majesty’s accession!"
The civil and military officials and the members of the imperial clan bowed their heads in salute. The Imperial Guard knelt with their spears, while Xia Fuyang and Xi Zixing also clasped their hands:
"This official welcomes Your Majesty’s accession!"
They stood respectfully on both sides to welcome the youngest monarch of the Great Zhou since its founding.
"We welcome Your Majesty’s accession!"
Qu Dubian paused, then stepped into the palace gates. Along the way, aside from the thunderous cries of "Long live the Emperor" and the greetings of his succession, there was no other sound.
The vermillion gates ahead stood wide open, deep and somber.
The youth had finally entered this Imperial City, followed closely by two figures.
Dong— Dong—!
As the new Emperor passed the palace gates, the bell tolled nine times.
The heavy chime rang out once more.
The civil and military officials turned again toward the palace gates.
"Congratulations to His Majesty on his accession—"
That figure, draped loosely in the black-and-gold dragon robe, walked steadily down the path.
Tomorrow's sun would rise as usual.
-
The Chronicles of the Historian state:
More than a month after the late Emperor’s passing, the seventh prince, Prince Yong, ascended the throne, changing the era name to Yonghe.
In the first year of Yonghe, a general amnesty was granted to the world.
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