Chapter 609: - The Emperor’s Heart

Rear Garden.

Inner Hall.

Every door and window was tightly shut. Black hanging curtains covered the walls and blocked most of the daylight.

The furnishings inside were sparse.

The hall felt vast and empty.

Creak...

The door opened from outside.

A palace maid entered holding a brocade box.

The moment she stepped inside, she felt a bone-deep chill.

Not because there were no braziers burning.

It came more from the pressure in her heart.

An instinctive fear she could not suppress.

She walked forward as quietly as possible.

Then, from behind one of the black curtains, half a figure appeared.

Wei Zhonghe.

He extended one hand.

The palace maid offered him the brocade box.

Then

Wei Zhonghe turned away.

The maid turned as well.

One walked deeper into the darkness.

The other stepped out of the hall as though she had just escaped a disaster.

...

“Your Majesty.”

Wei Zhonghe opened the brocade box.

Inside lay a single silver pill.

The Emperor of Yan was not lying down.

Nor did he appear as some tottering old man.

He sat upright in a chair, his expression solemn.

He did not look like an aged ruler.

But around him lingered the unmistakable air of a candle whose flame was nearing its end.

The Emperor of Yan stretched out one hand.

His movement was slow.

He lifted the silver pill before his eyes.

At the corner of his mouth appeared a hint of self-mockery.

“Wei Zhonghe.”

“This slave is here.”

“Tell Us. If the people outside saw this scene, how would they describe Us?”

“This slave would not dare speculate.”

“Heh. They would say that Great Yan’s emperor, no matter how great his civil governance or martial achievements in youth, still ended up like all those dying emperors in the history books. Obsessed with seeking immortals and medicines. Trying to prolong life with pills. Heh. Chasing that illusory thing called eternal life.”

Wei Zhonghe did not dare interrupt.

The Emperor of Yan pinched the pill between his fingers and examined it carefully.

“We understood long ago that true immortality does not exist in this world. Cultivators, fangshi, Qi Refiners, once they reach a certain level, can indeed live somewhat longer than ordinary people. But they enter meditation at every turn, close themselves inside caves, cultivate on mountains, spend fifty years practicing without tasting the smoke and fire of the human world, only to gain perhaps another fifty years of lingering breath. Tell Us, with that kind of ‘long life,’ did they profit or lose?”

“Your Majesty, this slave believes life is better when lived densely. If it goes on too long, it grows hollow. Once hollow, it grows thin. Once thin, it loses all flavor.”

Wei Zhonghe himself was a Qi Refiner.

And a powerful one.

He had once stood alone before a gate and blocked Baili Sword.

Naturally, he possessed his own understanding of the Qi Refining path.

Of course, a servant’s understanding always followed his master’s direction.

“Taking pills is the same as taking poison... Even We never imagined that one day We would reach this point.”

“Your Majesty...”

Words like “Your Majesty will surely enjoy boundless fortune and longevity” were things Wei Zhonghe could no longer force himself to say.

The supreme ruler before him was now relying on these pills simply to remain lucid each day.

His body had deteriorated to an absurd degree.

Yet he still refused to let himself rest.

He had once said that a ruler could die.

But a ruler could not become muddled.

And he absolutely could not lie half-dead on a sickbed for years without truly dying.

“As long as We remain alive for one day, We are Emperor for that day. We cannot spend it in confusion.”

At that, the Emperor of Yan laughed.

“Heh. That man in Chu lay on his sickbed for years. What did he waste? His son’s time. Chu’s time. Cough... cough...”

The Emperor suddenly began coughing violently.

Wei Zhonghe immediately reached out and gently rubbed his back.

At the same time, he used his own qi to help regulate the Emperor’s breathing.

But the qi he sent in could do little more than provide a faint warming effect.

The Emperor of Yan’s meridians had already aged and closed to an appalling degree.

“Those memorials proposing reduced rewards or delayed rewards for the troops. Write this comment on them: soldiers of the three armies, generals who rendered merit, not one part of their rewards may be treated harshly.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The Emperor’s breathing became heavier.

“Some people can only see what is under their feet. Only what is immediately in front of them. They truly cannot see far. The court is in difficulty now. The state is in difficulty now. Next year will probably be worse. But the more difficult the situation becomes, the more the armies and garrisons everywhere cannot be allowed to fall into disorder. If a battle was won and merit earned, rewards must be given. So long as the military garrisons do not fall into chaos, then no matter how turbulent all beneath Heaven becomes over the next two years, there is a limit to how bad it can get. Tell these words to the Crown Prince. Tell Chengjue as well.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. This slave has remembered them.”

“Tell them that where savings can be made, they may save. Where savings must not be made, saving even one coin is stupidity.”

“Yes.”

“Cough... cough...”

“Your Majesty...”

The Emperor of Yan ignored him.

His gaze remained fixed on the pill in his hand.

At last, he sighed.

Closed his eyes.

Opened his mouth.

And swallowed it.

The act of swallowing was painfully difficult.

The Emperor sat there with his neck raised, veins standing out across his skin.

“Hh... hh...”

A hoarse sound came from his throat.

Only after a long while did the pill finally go down.

The Emperor of Yan released a long breath.

Beads of sweat had already formed across his forehead.

At the same time, waves of dry heat began rising through him.

The medicine had begun to take effect.

This pill could not prolong life.

It was not the same kind of pill Grand Elder had once refined for the Emperor of Yan to replenish blood and nourish qi.

This was poison.

But it was poison capable of forcibly lifting his spirit.

Even if taking it squandered the last scraps of lifespan remaining to him, at least while alive, he could remain clearheaded.

A short while later, the Emperor of Yan stood.

Wei Zhonghe stepped forward and helped remove his outer robe.

“Spread out the Map of Great Xia’s Mountains and Rivers.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

At Wei Zhonghe’s order, seven or eight eunuchs carried in a thick rolled scroll and spread it across the floor.

Then more than ten palace maids entered and lit candles.

Wearing only a black long robe, the Emperor of Yan stood there and watched the Map of Great Xia’s Mountains and Rivers slowly unfurl beneath his feet.

Then all the eunuchs and palace maids withdrew.

The Emperor stepped onto the map.

Where he stood was Yanjing.

“Zhennan Pass has been taken. The snowfield has never been completely pacified, but without the Savage King, the Savages can no longer create any real storm. The Regent of Chu truly has the courage to cut off his own arm, but if he wants to gather Chu back together again, three to five years will not be enough. The Qian rely on the Three Frontiers to block Our iron cavalry from riding south. Since We failed to kill Qian completely the first time, We can leave it there for now. Everyone beneath Heaven thinks Our next target will immediately become Qian. They think We will attack Qian. No. They are wrong. Completely wrong. Qian is already meat beside Great Yan’s mouth. We can set it aside for now and choose not to eat it yet. What We need to do first is gnaw through the things covered in thorns and bone. That way, even if Our successor has poor teeth, he will still be able to swallow the rest slowly.”

As he spoke, the Emperor of Yan turned his gaze west.

Toward the desert.

He walked quickly across the map until his foot came down west of Beifeng Commandery.

“The Barbarian princess married into Our Ji Clan as a daughter-in-law. The young Barbarian prince addresses Us as Uncle. Some people say the Barbarians do not understand ritual. That for profit, for whatever lies before their eyes, they will sell anything. Fools. Bastards! The Barbarian Royal Court is plotting something enormous! The more arrogant they were before, the more respectful they have become now. That old bastard is laying the road for his son. He has spent most of his life preparing for one thing: restoring the glory of the Barbarian Royal Court in his son’s hands. Liangting sees it the same way We do. The Barbarians are sharpening their blades. For the next five years, they probably will not move. But ten years from now, they will certainly march east and invade the Xia realms! We cannot give them that opportunity. As Emperor of Great Yan, We absolutely cannot give the Barbarians even the slightest opportunity! We intend to unify all the Xia realms. But before that can happen, the Barbarians must never be allowed through the frontier!”

In the thirty years since the old Barbarian King became sovereign of the tribes, the Barbarians and Yan had almost never fought any truly large-scale war.

Yet the Emperor of Yan had never underestimated this old neighbor.

In fact, deep in his heart, he respected him greatly.

A man willing to spend his entire life appearing “mediocre,” doing little except laying the road for the next generation, was terrifying in ways easy to imagine.

Most importantly, the Barbarians had never truly declined.

They remained immensely strong.

The desert was still the greatest cradle for producing fierce Barbarian warriors.

What had weakened was the Royal Court.

And once the Royal Court rose again, responding to that revival, the blood feud from a century ago, when generation after generation fought Great Yan to the death, would awaken again.

Wei Zhonghe was stunned.

Although he was one of the people closest to the Emperor, even he had only just learned that there was apparently going to be another war.

As though he had guessed what Wei Zhonghe was thinking, and as though he understood perfectly well that court and country would react exactly the same way, the Emperor of Yan spoke in a low voice.

“We want to leave an example for Our descendants. A ruler does not rely on conspiracies, schemes, or petty calculations. A ruler relies on the great momentum of the age. Momentum! With every step a ruler takes, he should step upon that momentum. Not borrow it. Rather, wherever he walks, momentum should rise beneath his feet.”

As he spoke, the Emperor’s gaze settled on Wei Zhonghe.

Wei Zhonghe immediately prostrated himself.

“This slave understands.”

These words could not be repeated to a third person.

That, of course, was merely the most obvious meaning.

At a deeper level, court and country would need to monitor public discussion carefully.

Some people could infer hidden intentions from troop movements, transfers of personnel, shipments of supplies, and similar traces.

They could see which way the wind was beginning to blow.

And yet

Great Yan’s current relationship with the Barbarians was actually better than its relationship with either Qian or Chu.

During Great Yan’s repeated campaigns against Qian, Jin, and Chu, not a single Barbarian rider had violated the frontier.

They had behaved with almost perfect propriety.

If Yan suddenly attacked them now, it would possess virtually no moral justification at all.

Drip...

Drip...

Several crimson drops spread across the map.

The Emperor of Yan raised a hand and wiped beneath his nose.

Blood stained his palm.

He did not care.

He simply stared downward with terrible intensity.

At the desert beneath his feet.

“Let Us bear this infamy.”

The Emperor of Yan raised his head slightly.

“While We are still alive.”

[End of Chapter 609]