Chapter 923: The Winds of Chu

The stars blazed overhead.

Having stripped off two layers of armor, the Emperor leaned against the battlement of the tiny military fort. Great Yan’s Black Dragon Banner stood beside him.

Ma Yang was dragged over by two Brocade-Clad personal guards and forced to his knees before the Emperor.

The newly promoted Chu Centurion was already showing signs of mental collapse. Not long ago, he had still been a hard, decisive man willing to launch attacks against Yan scouts on his own initiative. Now every scrap of courage had been beaten out of him.

Everyone had a limit to what they could endure. Once that line was crossed, they broke. Ma Yang had simply reached his.

Prince Pingxi walked over at an unhurried pace. The black armor he wore had been reforged by Xue San with special materials. Normally it appeared pitch-black, but under torchlight a layer of silver gleamed across its surface.

He was no longer the Prince Pingxi of the early years, who disliked flashy armor and even disliked riding Pixiu. Now he had vast numbers of direct troops beneath him, with the Sword Saint, A’Ming, and others guarding him personally. He had finally acquired the capital to indulge in a little splendor.

The Emperor, who had done nothing more than kick open a gate yet was still exhausted even now, raised his head and studied the first “enemy general” he had ever personally captured in his life.

And, very likely, the last.

At the same time, the Emperor felt no emptiness at all over the fact that the entire thing had merely been staged. Despite his exhausted body, interest still shone from him.

He knew exactly who he was.

For him to personally take matters this far was already extraordinary. Even this little performance had required that bastard surnamed Zheng to shoulder a considerable burden and show him an extraordinary degree of understanding.

“Do you know who We are?” the Emperor asked.

The Prince standing beside him glanced over at the Emperor, who had just asked a question worthy of an idiot.

The Emperor himself noticed nothing wrong.

Ma Yang’s eyes slowly regained focus, only to fall back into confusion almost immediately.

At that moment, Prince Pingxi reached down, seized the back of Ma Yang’s neck, and smashed his face directly into the packed-earth brickwork.

Bang!

When the Prince hauled him back up, blood sprayed everywhere.

Some of it even splattered across the Emperor’s brand-new armor, finally giving that armor a chance to taste blood.

Ma Yang’s face looked as though someone had overturned a dye shop across it, but he truly had come back to his senses.

“Do you know who he is?” the Emperor asked, pointing at Zheng Fan.

Ma Yang’s lips trembled several times before he finally answered:

“Prince... Prince Pingxi.”

No one here would dare impersonate Prince Pingxi.

Of that, Ma Yang was absolutely certain.

The Emperor nodded in satisfaction, then pointed at his own face.

“Then who are We?”

Ma Yang shook his head blankly.

“I... I don’t know.”

“...” the Emperor.

Ma Yang had been born a commoner. He genuinely did not know that “We” in this form was a self-reference reserved for the Emperor.

And in the present situation, although his mind had been shocked awake, he was still nowhere near calm enough to reason through who could possibly continue sitting there at ease while Prince Pingxi remained standing beside him.

“This won’t do. You have to know who We are. After all, you are the first enemy commander We have ever captured alive. Listen carefully. We... are the Emperor of Great Yan!”

...

“Ma Yang, I think you’ve gone mad. You’ve truly gone insane! What did you say? The men who attacked your fort were Prince Pingxi’s Brocade-Clad personal guards? You saw the Sword Saint and a Qi Refiner flying through the air to attack you? You even saw Prince Pingxi himself carrying his princely banner into the charge? And now you’re telling me... you were captured alive by the Emperor of Yan? If you panicked before the enemy and fled back here, couldn’t you at least invent a better excuse? Why not claim the skies opened and ten thousand Buddhas descended to requisition your fort for themselves?”

Ma Yang lay prostrate on the ground and offered no defense.

Ever since he had floated back across the river on a raft and been recovered by Chu troops, he had remained like this.

Ask him something and he answered.

At all other times, he sat there woodenly.

Then a broad, imposing man in a python robe entered the command tent.

The general who had been berating Ma Yang immediately knelt.

“Greetings, Your Highness. What brings Your Highness...”

The man before him was Xiong Tingshan, brother of the Emperor of Great Chu and current commander of the imperial-clan Imperial Guards stationed along the Wei River.

Behind Xiong Tingshan stood a handsome young gentleman.

Who else could it be but Xie Yu’an?

Several rounds of war between Yan and Chu over the past few years had caused stars on both sides to fall.

But Chu had unquestionably suffered the greater losses.

Yan had seen Prince Pingxi rise naturally to complete the transition between old and new generations of commanders. Chu, by contrast, had begun to feel painfully short of great generals and men capable of commanding whole theaters.

A commander-in-chief needed more than extraordinary military talent. He also needed enough prestige that the soldiers under him would genuinely submit to his authority.

Earlier, the Chu Emperor had placed the Wei River defense line under Xie Clan Patriarch Xie Zhuyang. Once Xie Zhuyang led the Xie Clan army into the lands of Liang and Zhao, however, that vital frontier had been handed over to Xiong Tingshan.

After Grand General Nian Yao was defeated and captured, these two were basically the only men left in Great Chu’s military establishment capable of carrying the great banner.

The gap between generations had become severe.

Xiong Tingshan turned to Xie Yu’an.

“What do you think?”

“I think it may actually be true. A few days ago, a secret report said Prince Pingxi was accompanying the Yan Emperor on his Eastern Inspection to Snow Sea Pass. Calculate the timing. If they left Snow Sea Pass and came over to wander around the Zhennan Pass region afterward, that would hardly be strange.”

“That would not be strange?” Xiong Tingshan asked.

An Emperor personally going onto a battlefield to attack a newly built little fort garrisoned by only twenty old, weak, sick, and crippled men... was already absurd enough to make the whole world laugh.

“There is nothing impossible about it,” Xie Yu’an said. “The Yan Emperor and Prince Pingxi knew one another before either had risen high. I suspect their relationship is not as simple as the version history books like to write, where ruler and minister once enjoyed perfect harmony and later became suspicious of each other. There may genuinely be some real affection between them. If that Yan Emperor said he wanted to personally smell the air of an army camp, Prince Pingxi might truly indulge him. And that matches the ‘mad ravings’ of this Centurion. Brocade-Clad personal guards. The Sword Saint. A Qi Refiner. The princely banner. The Emperor... There is a folk saying: accompany the Crown Prince while he studies. From now on, we can add a second half. Accompany the Emperor while he storms a city.”

Xiong Tingshan’s voice deepened.

“The Yan Emperor and Prince Pingxi are on the opposite bank right now?”

“Eight or nine chances out of ten. What? Your Highness intends to do something? If they dared come, naturally they came prepared. For all we know, the cavalry of Zhennan Pass has already filled Shanggu Commandery.”

“Where in this world is anything ever ten parts secure?” Xiong Tingshan countered.

Xie Yu’an smiled.

“Grand General Nian once thought the same way.”

“Do not mention Nian Yao to me.”

Clearly, Grand General Nian—now serving as a eunuch official inside the Yan imperial palace—had become one of Great Chu’s two great national humiliations.

The other was Qu Peiluo, former young lord of the Qu Clan, now responsible for security in Fengxin City.

Xiong Tingshan left the tent and looked up at the stars, his brows filled with worry.

“Your Highness does not want to miss this opportunity?” Xie Yu’an asked as he followed.

“What exactly are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying the real contest between Great Chu and Yan no longer lies in the present. It lies five years from now. Originally, we had a chance to overturn that huge-looking creature while Yan was swollen on the outside and hollow within. Unfortunately, Qian suffered a catastrophic setback. The balance between attack and defense has changed. Completely. No matter how Great Chu struggles right now, we lose. Better to wait.”

“Imperial Elder Brother is reshaping Great Chu’s future. I understand that. But Yan is recuperating too.”

“There is nothing we can do about that.”

Xie Yu’an saw the matter with remarkable detachment.

“There truly is no opportunity now. We can only wait and see what comes later.”

“And later there will be an opportunity?”

“At least we may be able to delay them.”

Xie Yu’an waved a hand and turned away.

“I brought some excellent tea from home. Would Your Highness care to taste it with me?”

“I am in no mood.”

“Then what a pity.”

Xie Yu’an walked away at an easy pace.

After the great victory in Liang, the Xie Clan’s standing in Chu had risen to unprecedented heights.

Once, Great Chu’s old aristocrats had regarded the Xie Clan as an embarrassing member of the noble ranks, barely fit to stand among them.

But now, as the Emperor steadily compressed the power of the traditional aristocracy, those noble houses—already far weaker than in their glory days—had instinctively begun clustering around the Xie Clan, hoping the last great rooted tree among the noble houses might shelter them from wind and rain.

As a result, the Xie Clan had unquestionably become one of the principal poles of power within Great Chu.

Yet the Xie Clan remained dutiful.

More dutiful, if anything, than before.

Its prestige had risen, but it had shown no obvious sign of other ambitions.

Not only that, after returning from Liang, Xie Yu’an had gone back to the Chu Emperor’s side in Ying Capital and received considerable favor. The Emperor had even promised him a Princess in marriage once she came of age.

This time, Xie Yu’an had been sent by the Emperor to inspect the Wei River defenses.

So Xiong Tingshan might possess exalted status, but the present young lord of the Xie Clan had no need to fear him.

Once Xie Yu’an returned to his own tent, he did not brew any tea.

He leaned against the entrance instead, letting the night wind from the north wash over him while he stared at the terrain map hanging inside.

Zhennan Pass.

Fan City.

Two claws of Yan had already sunk deep into Great Chu’s flesh, making it difficult for half the state even to turn over in bed.

What had happened tonight revealed an even more discouraging truth to any Chu man of ambition.

The Emperor wanted to play.

So the Prince played along with him.

That meant the internal fracture everyone expected inside Yan had, through the shared understanding and effort of the Emperor and that Prince, most likely settled into a kind of harmony and stability.

The internal chaos Qian and Chu had both been waiting for... probably would not happen.

What could make those two men go this far?

What could possibly be worth it?

There was probably only one answer.

Tonight had been a performance.

Ridiculous on the surface.

But in truth... it had been staged for every person in All Xia to see.

...

Ying Capital.

It was Great Chu’s new capital.

But the imperial palace looked rather small.

Years ago, when Xiong Liqing entered Yanjing to receive her investiture, she had said, “Yan’s imperial palace is far inferior to Great Chu’s,” and caused the late Yan Emperor to roar with laughter.

Now...

Great Chu’s imperial palace truly could not compare with the one in Yanjing.

The frugality personally demonstrated by the sovereign genuinely gave Chu’s officials new hope.

But sometimes, as that northern neighbor continued rising step by step, looking at this palace could also leave a person strangely melancholy.

The Chu Emperor had just finished receiving ministers and was now eating a bowl of lotus-seed soup.

His health had always been excellent.

One sign of that was simple.

After he became Regent, several Princes and Princesses were born every year.

That too had become a symbol by which the Emperor proclaimed his own vitality.

Of course, one reason for all that hard work was that the earlier chaos among Chu’s imperial Princes, the purges in the years afterward, and the destruction of Yingdu had caused the direct Xiong imperial bloodline to wither badly.

The deficit had been too great.

He had no choice but to replenish it as much as possible.

Three memorials from the Wei River now lay before the Chu Emperor.

But while eating his soup, he was not reading them.

He was reading a family letter from his younger sister in Fengxin City.

One could tell... his sister possessed almost no affection for him anymore.

There had been a time when this younger sister of his had even harbored feelings for him that may have gone beyond ordinary sibling affection.

Now... the two of them had become familiar strangers.

The root cause was not that he had once rejected her and then forcibly married her into the Qu Clan.

Nor was it that she had learned about the side effects of the Calling Sparrow Pill he once sent her.

He understood his sister too well.

She might appear naive and charming, but in her bones she possessed the same exquisite calculating instinct their mother had once possessed.

“So it is rather laughable, isn’t it?”

The Emperor, still eating his soup, suddenly changed tone and began speaking to himself.

Fortunately, the great hall was empty.

No servant stood inside to witness it.

Otherwise, they might have found the scene deeply strange.

Though the scene was already strange enough on its own.

The Emperor narrowed his eyes.

He set down the bowl.

Then began forming hand seals.

Yet his mouth kept speaking.

“Why has she become this indifferent? You know the reason. It does not depend on how you treated her. So long as you remain useful, so long as you can still provide her something to rely upon, she will remain warm toward you. She is cold now because she looks down on you. She looks down on Great Chu too.”

The Chu Emperor continued forming seals.

“She gave birth to a child. Another Princess. But a Princess of Yan. Now... she no longer treats being a Princess of Great Chu as something worth pride. She takes pride in being the woman of Great Yan’s Prince Pingxi. She takes pride in being the mother of Prince Pingxi’s child. Hahahahaha. Emperor of the Xiong Clan... this is your fate. Your fate! You confidently calculated everything. You believed you could calmly gather these mountains and rivers back into your hands and start again. You were even certain you would do better. But look north. Will they give you that chance? They not only failed to fall into chaos. They kept winning. They truly do not intend to give you even the smallest opportunity!”

The Chu Emperor continued talking to himself while calmly forming seals.

Threads of pale golden light began flowing from his fingertips.

“You’ve read the memorials, haven’t you? It has come again. Again. It truly came again. The scene you least wanted to see is happening in Yan once more. In the previous generation, Yan had its iron triangle. In this generation, Yan has dragon and flood dragon advancing side by side. Emperor of the Xiong Clan... what will you use to win? Tell me. What do you possess that can possibly win?”

The Chu Emperor began pressing layer after layer of seals into his own body.

Every new seal brought terrifying pain.

Yet his movements never slowed.

“I have watched several generations of the Xiong Clan. Several generations of Xiong Emperors. To be truthful... you are the only one I ever truly thought much of. The ones before you were ordinary stock. Compared with the generations of your ancestors, they fell far too short. But what a pity. Destiny does not stand with you. You became Emperor. You became Son of Heaven. But Heaven’s will... did not choose you.”

The Chu Emperor finally spoke in his own voice.

“If Heaven’s will chooses someone, does that mean they must win?”

His expression shifted again.

“No. It seems even Heaven’s will can no longer win. But if even Heaven’s will cannot win, why do you think someone without it still has any hope?”

“What exactly are you talking about?”

“I merely came out for some air. When you chose to merge me into yourself, you should have known this day would come. As you gain a longer life, the bond between us will only deepen. Just like that... ancestor of yours.”

“I asked about Heaven’s will.”

“Heaven’s will is gone. Heaven’s will can no longer win. Or perhaps... Heaven’s will must change. It may continue. But it will no longer be the same as before.”

“You are too... noisy.”

“Tired of hearing me? You can still suppress me now. But what about later? If... you still have a later.”

“We do not believe in fate. We believe only in Ourself.”

“Like that late Emperor of Yan? He seems to have been that sort of person too. And you have always admired him. But...”

“But what?”

“He died.”

“Yes. He died. But I... am still alive.”

“No. You misunderstood me. He died. That old Pixiu inside Yan’s imperial palace preserved itself far better than I did. Do you think... that old Pixiu would have looked down on him? He could have done what you did. True imperial qi is what spirit bodies like us need most. It is the foundation that allows us to continue existing. And yet... in the end... he still died. That fact alone... means you will never surpass him in this lifetime!”

“Shut up!”

The final seal fell into place.

The Chu Emperor closed his eyes.

When he opened them again... he picked up the bowl of lotus-seed soup, now gone cold, and continued eating one spoonful at a time.

Only after finishing the final mouthful and exposing the bottom of the bowl did the Emperor notice that dense cracks had spread across the blue-and-white porcelain.

Blood had seeped into the cracks.

He moved the bowl away.

Fine wounds covered the palm that had been holding it.

Blood welled from them.

The Chu Emperor pressed his palm against the imperial desk.

When he lifted it again... a bloody handprint remained.

He clenched his fist.

Closed his eyes.

Then slowly opened both fist and eyes almost at the same time.

The wounds in his palm had already healed.

He died.

He died...

Suddenly, the Chu Emperor seized a writing brush from the desk and stabbed it straight through his own palm.

Blood began pouring from the wound.

And yet... he felt no pain whatsoever.

A self-mocking smile appeared on the Chu Emperor’s face.

He murmured:

“An Emperor should have nothing to fear. He bears the name Son of Heaven... yet what he truly does is the very thing least reverent toward Heaven. So... it was not that he was willing to die. It was that even death... could no longer make him afraid.”

The Chu Emperor pulled out the writing brush and watched the wound slowly stop bleeding on its own.

“I once thought Great Chu’s greatest weakness was that we had no Tian Wujing. No Li Liangting. No invincible iron cavalry. But in truth... the greatest distance between Chu and Yan... lies in their Emperors.”

[End of Chapter 923]