Chapter 734: A Letter of State from the Western Empire

When the Emperor arrived at the Hall of Departed Spirits with the others... everything inside was intact.

The hall itself.

The coffin.

Nothing had been damaged.

Only the brick floor beside the coffin now bore one black mark.

It looked like the silhouette of a Pixiu.

The Pixiu was Great Yan's totem.

Yan people believed it could protect a household and keep it safe.

So during New Year, they liked pasting Pixiu silhouettes on doors and windows.

That Pixiu spirit had broken out... only to take one final look at the late Emperor who would soon enter the imperial mausoleum.

In the end... it had caused no other damage.

The Emperor led everyone in paying respects to the late Emperor once more.

First... because the rites could not be omitted.

Second... because everyone needed a moment to settle their nerves.

Then... the Emperor spoke.

"Wei Zhonghe."

"This slave is here."

"Not one word about today's events is to leave the palace."

"Your Majesty may rest assured. This slave understands."

The Emperor looked toward the senior ministers who had followed them here.

His gaze lingered deliberately on Marquis Pingxi.

Then he said:

"My ministers were frightened today."

"We failed to protect Your Majesty and caused Your Majesty alarm. We are guilty."

"We are guilty."

"It's fine. We are not troubled. As for the cabinet matter, we'll return and continue discussing it."

"Your Majesty, should you not rest first..."

"Affairs of state come first. Something like this is fine as a curiosity to amuse oneself with, but how could We allow it to delay government business?"

"Yes. This minister obeys."

"Your Majesty."

"What does Marquis Pingxi wish to say?"

"This minister was somewhat startled just now and would like to return home to rest."

"Oh? Great Yan's Marquis who has won battle after battle cannot even withstand a scene like this?"

"Your Majesty, it is not that this minister could not withstand it. I accidentally aggravated an old injury just now."

"Then return to your residence and rest. Later, We will send an imperial physician."

"This minister thanks Your Majesty for your grace."

Zheng Fan knew perfectly well why the Emperor had brought him to the Hall of Mental Cultivation earlier.

The Emperor wanted him there to steady the room.

To show everyone that Great Yan's military establishment stood firmly behind the new sovereign.

At the same time... the Emperor intended to use the prestige created by the great victory over the Royal Court to push through the cabinet system.

Zheng Fan's task... was already finished.

If he remained, he would only become a convenient target for the ministers to use as ammunition.

Far better to withdraw early.

Everyone in court was an old fox.

Zhao Jiulang's death did not mean the remaining senior ministers had suddenly become obedient children.

The Chancellor's seat above them was now empty.

Naturally... everyone below would become more attentive.

More eager.

Let the Emperor deal with them.

Zheng Fan had no reason to stay and trade Tai Chi with them.

As for whether simply dusting off his hands and jumping out of the circle like this was somewhat improper... heh.

A regional military lord... needed at least a little domineering air.

Otherwise people might truly start treating you like a soft persimmon.

Marquis Zheng felt that perhaps he really had been too easy to speak to.

Otherwise... why had none of these people ever dared invite Prince Zhenbei or the Prince of Jingnan to become Chancellor?

They bullied the weak and feared the strong.

Tsk.

Once he received permission...

Marquis Zheng left the palace.

Fan Li was waiting at the palace gates.

The moment he saw his Master come out, he hurried over and whispered:

"Master. A'Ming and San'er entered the palace earlier."

The expression on his face... was exactly that of a child tattling.

"They entered the palace?"

Marquis Zheng frowned slightly.

Then a possibility suddenly occurred to him.

Could the commotion inside the palace earlier... have had something to do with those two bastards?

...

"It broke out on its own?"

"Yes."

Zike answered Wei Zhonghe.

"What about beneath the furnace?"

"It's still there. What escaped was only part of its spirit. Perhaps... it only wanted to see the late Emperor off one last time."

"Mm."

If some irreversible damage had been caused today... then this Little Eunuch in Red Robes would certainly have been punished.

Not even his status as the Palace Elder's final disciple could have protected him.

But in the end... the result had been harmless.

The Pixiu spirit's final act had been to visit the late Emperor.

That itself proved the late Emperor's greatness beyond dispute.

For old ministers and old servants like them who had already served during the late Emperor's reign... it almost felt like recognition.

So there was no need to discuss punishment.

"Can you reinforce the seal on the furnace again?"

"Yes."

"Do you need men from the Imperial Astronomical Bureau sent over?"

"No. The fewer people who know about this place, the better."

"Mm. Keep a close eye on it."

"Yes."

Eunuch Wei left.

He still needed to arrange for silence regarding today's affair.

Fortunately... the imperial palace had already been purged once.

The eyes belonging to the various factions... aside from those formerly planted by the Sixth Prince's residence... had all been dug out on the day of enthronement.

So suppressing the news would not be particularly difficult.

Afterward...

Zike returned to the palace hall.

The alchemical furnace... had already closed itself again.

"Brother, loyal enough."

Xue San walked over and thumped Zike once in the chest.

He took a moment to enjoy a sensation very different from knocking knees.

"Nothing harmful happened anyway. Whether I report it or not makes little difference. Do you understand mechanisms?"

"Uh. A little."

"Can you fully understand the mechanisms built into this furnace?"

"No."

"Keeping something hidden?"

"No. The problem is difficult and complicated. Earlier I simply tried one answer that seemed possible. I didn't expect it would actually work."

"An answer?"

"Yes."

"Can you tell me?"

"Sure. Later I'll draw you a diagram."

"Many thanks."

"No need. The answer will change next time anyway."

"..." Zike.

Xue San was not lying.

He was a "master craftsman."

But things like this could involve an entire specialized system built around one dedicated device.

Knowledge did not automatically transfer from one system to another.

His earlier attempt... had merely used experience to guess at the answer.

Like a mathematics fill-in-the-blank problem.

The final answer was usually something like pi... or one... or three.

It was unlikely to be some enormous number under a square root divided by another enormous number.

He really had simply gotten lucky.

"Still drinking?" A'Ming asked.

"My apologies, Sir A'Ming. Today I no longer have the heart to drink."

"Then I'm leaving?"

"Forgive me for neglecting you."

"No need to be polite. After all, there is so much wine."

A'Ming and Xue San left the hall.

Then... the great doors slowly closed behind them.

The Little Eunuch in Red Robes pressed himself against the alchemical furnace.

Closed his eyes.

He could sense it.

Beneath the furnace... lay a Pixiu whose body had long since rotted, with far more white bone remaining than flesh.

It seemed exhausted.

"The late Emperor rejected you.

"But don't you still have me?"

...

"So we're not going to the zoo today?"

After leaving the palace gates, Xue San asked A'Ming.

"Go back. This is for your own good. Master was at the Hall of Mental Cultivation earlier. You saw him too."

"So?"

"If Master learns that today's whole mess was caused by you, do you still expect to advance?"

"The problem is, that little eunuch never told Wei Zhonghe I did it. How would Master find out?"

"Because I'll tell him."

"..." Xue San.

...

Before entering Marquis Pingxi Residence, Zheng Fan deliberately stopped by the neighboring Prince of Jingnan Residence for a while.

Only after that did he return home.

The Sword Saint was sitting in the courtyard drinking tea.

"Something happened in the palace?" the Sword Saint asked.

He was here.

But the disturbance in the palace had still been something he could sense.

Years ago, when he split the Chancellor's carriage apart with one sword on Xiping Street...

Eunuch Wei had sat on the roof of the Imperial Study and watched the excitement.

Today... their positions had reversed.

"Something small. A Pixiu spirit caused a little trouble."

"Oh."

The Sword Saint nodded.

Then said:

"By the way, how much longer are we staying here?"

The Sword Saint's wife was pregnant.

Judging by the timing... if they rode back now as quickly as possible, there was a chance he could still make it before the birth.

"We have to wait until the late Emperor's coffin enters the mausoleum. Probably another four or five days. Why don't you head back first?"

The Sword Saint shook his head.

"You've been wronged," Marquis Zheng said emotionally.

The Sword Saint shook his head again.

"It's fine. She'll get pregnant again later. I'll stay with her next time."

"..." Zheng Fan.

Cold wind.

Falling leaves.

Perfectly echoed Marquis Zheng's mood upon hearing that sentence.

He pulled over the chair beside him.

Lay back.

Let the sunlight fall across his body.

"Old Yu."

"Mm?"

"This trip to the capital...

"I feel like I didn't really do anything.

"And yet it also feels like I did a lot."

He had done things.

Otherwise Zhao Jiulang would still be Chancellor.

But killing Zhao Jiulang... had merely been Zheng Fan venting himself after the overall situation was already settled.

Fundamentally... the court's transformation and Great Yan's succession had still passed smoothly and in proper order.

"What did you want to do?" the Sword Saint asked.

"I don't know either."

"In truth, I understand this feeling of yours. When I drove the Savages out of Jin and survived, then recovered afterward, I felt something similar.

"On the path of the sword...

"I had long reached a point where having something mattered, and not having it mattered little.

"Glory and wealth...

"I've never cared much for either.

"People... when they reach this point... often feel this way.

"Especially men.

"So at a time like this, what you need is..."

"Enough. Shut up. Are you ever going to stop?"

Clearly...

Marquis Zheng had already guessed what the Sword Saint intended to say next.

"Heh-heh."

"There are quite a few famous physicians in the capital," the Sword Saint said.

"I have plenty of famous physicians around me already."

"True."

The Sword Saint nodded.

Several of the "gentlemen" beside Zheng Fan were actually deeply skilled in medicine and pharmacology.

Back outside Snow Sea Pass, when the Sword Saint had broken through to Second Grade... that was how those men had "saved" him.

"There are also several temples in the capital said to be rather effective. Don't want to try?"

"Heh. I have more ghosts around me than those temples do."

...

The Imperial Astronomical Bureau selected the date.

Seven days later... the late Emperor's coffin entered the imperial mausoleum.

The Emperor personally led the civil and military officials and nobles in escorting it.

Along the road followed by the coffin... common people spontaneously set out offering tables, burned incense, and hung white mourning cloth.

At last... when everyone watched the late Emperor's coffin carried into the underground palace... when they watched the doors of the tomb slowly close... everyone inside the mausoleum knelt.

Including the Emperor.

Then... the old Minister of Rites proclaimed an edict on behalf of the Emperor.

First... he recounted and praised the late Emperor's achievements throughout his life.

Finally... the posthumous title was fixed.

Zheng Fan knew the truth.

The late Emperor had actually prepared his own posthumous title long ago.

It had been included in his final testament.

The late Emperor had intended to place all the exhaustion caused by years of southern and northern campaigns upon his own shoulders.

The drought in Yan.

The floods in Jin.

All of it... he intended to claim as his own fault.

He wanted to bear every sin.

So among the characters he selected for his posthumous title... he had chosen one:

Li.

Yet after the Emperor died... on the day Ji Chengjue ascended the throne, he did not allow the Chancellor to read the Edict of Self-Reproach.

That alone had already made his political position perfectly clear.

So when the ministers discussed the posthumous title... no one dared genuinely move in the direction the late Emperor had requested.

They proposed several neutral titles instead.

The new sovereign rejected them all.

In the end... he personally made the decision.

The character would be:

Wu.

Strong and unyielding, upright in governance: Wu.

Firm without selfish desire, unbending before force.

Cherishing loyalty and forgiveness, correcting crookedness and straightness.

Overawing powerful enemies through virtue: Wu.

One who settles calamity and disorder through arms: Wu.

Because he goes forth with soldiers and thereby brings peace.

Thus... when later generations spoke of the late Emperor... they would call him:

Emperor Wu of Yan.

Zheng Fan could not help feeling a little melancholy on behalf of father and son.

While alive... father and son had become enemies.

The father had not been kind.

The son had not been filial.

After death...

Ji Chengjue, who had personally killed his father to take the throne... was the one who firmly restored his father's name.

Affection between father and son.

The ethics of family and state.

All those things tangled together... and finally formed a relationship this twisted.

And on that very same day... two urgent dispatches from the west entered the Imperial Study.

The first said:

Prince Zhenbei Li Liangting was critically ill.

He requested that the imperial court send an envoy to Prince Zhenbei Residence to formally invest the Heir.

Yes.

Although Li Fei had long since returned to Prince Zhenbei Residence... the imperial court had never formally invested him as Heir.

In the past, no one in Prince Zhenbei Residence would have cared whether the court recognized the succession.

Even the imperial court itself... had deliberately ignored the matter.

The previous two rulers of Prince Zhenbei Residence had simply confirmed the succession internally.

After receiving the oaths of loyalty from the Zhenbei Army... they sent the court a memorial afterward to complete the formalities.

Nothing more than preserving appearances.

Now...

Prince Zhenbei Residence was actively requesting imperial investiture.

In truth, it was no different from the small states outside South Gate Pass that depended upon Yan and sought legal recognition from the imperial court.

It meant that the once-powerful regional military house... no.

More accurately... the century-old Marquis Zhenbei Residence that had once been a state within the State of Yan... was once again preparing to submit itself fully to Great Yan's governmental order.

Yet inside the Imperial Study... the Emperor showed no excitement.

Even though... centralizing authority was something every normal Emperor wanted to do.

But centralization could not simply be pursued blindly.

If you centralized power until the state became like Qian... then what the hell was the point?

A sovereign naturally grew suspicious of generals who commanded armies.

But if a state possessed no great marshals, no military gods, no towering commanders to hold the line... how was that state supposed to stand?

Critically ill.

Prince Zhenbei... was critically ill.

They had guessed it already.

Expected it.

Yet when it truly happened... the Emperor still felt a kind of confusion.

Even... anger.

What he had inherited from his father... was an exhausted Great Yan.

But its spears and halberds were still sharp!

And now?

The state's two great foundation stones... were both disappearing.

How the hell was he supposed to play this game?

Then... he opened the second urgent dispatch.

The Emperor's expression immediately darkened.

"Wei Zhonghe."

"This slave is here."

"Summon Marquis Pingxi."

...

A royal funeral truly exhausted people far more than an ordinary household funeral.

An ordinary family might escort the coffin only from one end of the village to the other.

The Emperor's coffin... had to travel from the imperial palace all the way to the imperial mausoleum far outside the city.

And everyone had to leave before dawn.

Just as Ji Old Sixth had said earlier: when a close relative dies in your brother's family... shouldn't you go help?

Marquis Zheng had no choice but to attend.

In truth... there had been very little for him to actually do.

No need for him to proclaim edicts.

No need for him to handle the rites.

He simply wore full armor... and served as the captain of the escort force.

There was no helping it.

Who told him he was the only military-service Marquis currently in the capital?

The First Prince was one too.

But he was an imperial son.

During the great funeral, as a son in mourning, he could not wear armor or carry weapons.

So Marquis Zheng had spent the entire day dressed in complete armor, standing at rigid attention.

And precisely because his relationship with the Emperor was so good... he could not even slack off.

How the hell could that not be exhausting?

Thinking about the western campaign report... about how the Barbarian Royal Court's troops had held a grand military review during the day and then suffered a night attack...

Marquis Zheng suddenly felt their defeat had not been unjust at all.

After returning home...

Marquis Zheng immediately began soaking in a bath.

Siniang massaged his muscles and loosened his tendons while reporting on the packing of luggage and other preparations.

They planned to leave the capital the day after tomorrow and return to eastern Jin.

"Master, whose massage feels better? Mine or the Princess's?"

"Yours, naturally. What the Princess does barely deserves to be called massage."

A textbook answer.

"Master, do you miss the Princess and Ruqing back home?"

"With you here, I'm already satisfied."

Another textbook answer.

At that moment...

A'Ming called from outside:

"Master, His Majesty summons you to the palace."

"Sigh."

Marquis Zheng sighed.

Then said:

"That child couldn't have buried his father today, felt miserable afterward, and decided he needed me to comfort him, could he?"

"Master should go comfort him. You shouldn't have come back so early."

"I was joking. He's nowhere near that fragile. Didn't he stab his own father to death himself?"

With the Sword Saint outside...

Marquis Zheng was not worried about walls having ears.

Even here... in the capital.

He washed up.

Changed clothes.

Then entered the palace.

The moment he entered the Imperial Study... he felt the lighting was unusually dim.

Marquis Zheng instinctively looked toward Wei Zhonghe.

Wei Zhonghe blinked at him.

Zheng Fan nodded... pretending he had understood the hint.

Then he rounded a screen and entered the inner chamber.

Marquis Zheng himself almost exclaimed aloud.

Ji Old Sixth sat in a chair.

His dragon robe hung open.

His hair was loose and disheveled.

"Zheng Fan."

"Hey. What's wrong with you?"

Marquis Zheng walked forward and studied him carefully.

A child who had murdered both father and sovereign... should not be this fragile, should he?

"Li Liangting sent a memorial. He's critically ill."

"We already knew this was coming."

"But now it's real." Ji Chengjue said. "It's like I just inherited the biggest brothel in the whole capital from my father, and less than two days after I took over, two of the top courtesans walked out."

"Your Majesty, are you genuinely not afraid the late Emperor will hear that and crawl back out of the mausoleum he was buried in today?"

"Motherfucker!"

Ji Chengjue sprang to his feet.

Slammed the memorial onto the table.

Then sank back into the chair again.

He said:

"At the bottom of Li Liangting's memorial, he asks Us to send someone to formally invest the Heir."

"As he should. He's laying the road for his son."

"That is the meaning. We intend to send Eldest Brother to Prince Zhenbei Residence to conduct the investiture."

"Mm. That gives them enough face," Zheng Fan said. "But why exactly did Your Majesty summon this minister tonight?"

This memorial alone... was not enough reason to call him into the palace at night.

Ji Chengjue took out the second urgent dispatch that had arrived that day.

"This one... also came from the west.

"But from farther west."

"Mm?"

"It is a letter of state sent to Us by a delegation from the Roman Empire."

"So quickly?"

"We calculated the dates ourselves. This delegation was probably invited to attend the Barbarian Royal Court's grand assembly, but missed the appointed time."

Zheng Fan smiled.

"Lucky bastards."

Indeed.

If they had arrived on schedule... that night would not have distinguished between races or nations.

The entire delegation... would already have become corpses.

"So instead, they sent Us this letter of state.

"The general meaning is:

"Since the Barbarian Royal Court has been destroyed... then next... naturally... the Roman Empire and Great Yan... should divide ownership of this desert between them."

[End of Chapter 734]