Chapter 1016: All Under Heaven

"Your Highness, everything is ready."

It was morning. Liu Dahu stood outside the command tent to make his report.

A moment later, the tent flap lifted and Zheng Fan stepped out in a python robe.

He drew a deep breath, then raised his head to look at the somewhat overcast sky. Turning to the Blind Man and Sword Saint waiting before him, he said, "Today's weather is rather fitting. I imagine quite a few poets and men of letters in Shangjing will write verses about Heaven and Earth mourning together with Qian."

"Would Master care to compose one first?" the Blind Man chimed in.

"Not interested. Besides, with some of those poems, even I don't know whether I ever really 'composed' them."

As he said this, the Prince gave the Blind Man a meaningful look.

It had been the Blind Man and Ji Old Sixth conspiring behind his back who had manufactured his reputation for excellence in both letters and arms.

That said, Zheng Fan truly did dislike "copying" poems from another world. In earlier years there had been no choice. When the occasion demanded a verse or two, he had used them.

But now that he had climbed to this position through his own efforts, trying to gain some cheap thrill or sense of accomplishment by "copying" poetry felt rather ridiculous.

The Prince mounted his Pixiu. As always, the Brocade-Clad personal guards opened the road before him as he rode out of the military camp.

Outside, the army had long since formed ranks.

Once the Qian confirmed their surrender, they did not play any further tricks. The Imperial Guards in the great eastern and western camps outside Shangjing obediently laid down their weapons and were now under control.

Across the Bian River, the combined force of Gou Moli and Chen Yang had also advanced. By now, they were probably preparing to cross.

After Qian's northern elites had been transferred to Jiangnan and then smashed in a single stroke, almost nothing remained of the northern defensive line. Only the Three Frontiers still had some teeth. Everywhere else was frighteningly empty.

Zheng Fan did not yet know whether Ji Chengjue had rescinded his decree for nationwide mass mobilization, but there was no denying that Great Yan had drawn enormous numbers of troops from Yan and Jin, leaving its frontier lines unusually well manned.

At this point, it no longer mattered whether those troops were elite. With everyone's elite forces either destroyed or tied down elsewhere, war had truly degenerated into a game of raw numbers.

That was why Gou Moli and Chen Yang could advance without fear.

With their combined force sitting on the Bian River, Shangjing had no possibility left of stirring up trouble.

Only then could the Regent Prince lead his army into Shangjing with a "calm and peaceful heart" and accept the knees offered up by the Qian.

"Master."

Liang Cheng had been waiting astride his Pi Beast.

"You've worked hard."

Ah Cheng had worked hardest of all. After the battle in Jiangnan, Liang Cheng had barely had a chance to rest before swiftly coordinating with the Wu Clan fleet and advancing north along the Qian River.

"It wasn't hard. It was quite satisfying." Liang Cheng added, "Thank you, Master, for deliberately giving this subordinate the opportunity."

His usual image was too cold and unsmiling. Precisely because he so rarely sucked up to anyone, the effect was excellent whenever he did.

The Prince smiled.

As he rode past Liang Cheng, he reached out and lightly slapped palms with him.

Liang Cheng then turned his Pi Beast and rode alongside his Master, half a body length behind.

Ahead stood an enormous raised platform.

The Qian had built it.

At opposite sides below the platform stood the Emperor of Great Qian and His Highness the Heir Prince.

Looking at the thing, Zheng Fan could not resist mocking it.

"You know, I think the Qian may have some defect buried in their bones. Whenever effort is least necessary, they love wasting enormous amounts of it. It's just a platform. Something symbolic would have been enough. Why build the damned thing so high? Anyone who didn't know better might think this Prince was the one surrendering to Qian."

The Blind Man said, "Master, this subordinate suspects the Qian thought that if the sacrificial platform were higher, people below would not be able to see what happened on top quite so clearly. That way they could preserve as much face as possible for their Emperor."

"Still incomprehensible. They've lost the substance and they're still worried about the fucking appearance."

"Master is correct. A truly powerful man naturally has little interest in being constrained by ceremony or face."

"Begin," the Prince urged.

"Yes."

Yan armored riders moved forward and completely surrounded the platform.

Then drums and ceremonial music sounded from the Qian procession to the east. A group of high officials and nobles dropped to their knees and began to weep.

"Listen to that. A moment ago they were perfectly fine. The music starts and suddenly the whole crowd can cry on command. Even professional mourners at a funeral aren't as skilled as these people."

Amid the music and wailing, eunuchs beside the Emperor of Great Qian stripped away his dragon robe. Bare-chested, leading a sheep and holding a piece of jade in his mouth, Zhao Mugou slowly ascended the platform.

At the same time, the Heir Prince began climbing from the other side on behalf of his father.

The two reached the top almost simultaneously.

Zhao Mugou looked at Zheng Lin. He showed neither resentment nor anger that the Regent Prince himself had declined to come up. Instead, he very decisively knelt.

His back remained straight even on his knees.

After all, the jade was still held in his mouth, and the receiving party had to remove it personally.

"Baa... baa..."

The little white sheep beside him bleated.

Every eye fixed on the top of the platform.

The Qian ministers were plainly furious that the Regent Prince had sent a child instead of ascending in person. One after another, their fists clenched.

On the platform, Zheng Lin took a clean handkerchief from his sleeve.

First he wrapped the cloth around his hand.

Then, through the cloth, he removed the jade from the Qian Emperor's mouth.

Once it was out, he wrapped the jade up with the same expression of disgust. His instinct plainly told him to throw it away, while propriety told him he could not, and the conflict showed on his face with remarkable clarity.

Still kneeling, Zhao Mugou watched the boy's movements.

He did not become angry.

Instead, he gave a soft laugh.

"You truly resemble your father."

Zheng Lin finally finished dealing with the jade. At those words, he snorted coldly.

"You're lucky. If you'd said that to me a few months ago, you wouldn't still have your head."

Zhao Mugou looked puzzled.

Unfortunately, His Highness the Heir Prince had no interest in explaining himself. He stepped two paces to the side.

"My father is waiting for you below."

The Emperor nodded and slowly began to stand.

Zheng Lin's figure blurred.

A heavy blow struck Zhao Mugou behind the knees, forcing him back down.

"Crawl on your knees."

Zhao Mugou let out a long sigh and nodded heavily.

Then he began inching forward on his knees.

Descending the stairs was somewhat easier. At least he could brace himself with both hands on either side.

"Your Majesty! Your Majesty!!!"

"Your Majesty!!!"

Those qualified to attend the surrender ceremony on the eastern side were all people of genuine status and standing in Shangjing.

They were furious to see their Emperor humiliated this way by the Yan.

Yet they exercised excellent restraint.

Those unwilling to come had simply stayed away.

Those determined to die for the state had either done so the night before or were at home now preparing their pyres.

The ones who had come could sympathize with His Majesty and feel the humiliation as deeply as they pleased, but at bottom, all of them intended to change masters and pave a road for their own futures.

When one regime passed into another, the Emperor would inevitably suffer the greatest humiliation.

As for the ministers...

To put it plainly, the State of Qian was enormous and its population vast. If the Yan wanted to govern it, they would still need Qian officials, would they not?

The Emperor reached the bottom of the platform on his knees, his body trembling slightly.

In this respect he was much like Ji Old Sixth. He had no gift for cultivation and had never put much effort into it. By now, this was becoming genuinely exhausting.

Fortunately, he finally reached the Prince's Pixiu.

Then, without warning, the Pixiu began walking slowly off to one side.

Zhao Mugou looked up in surprise at the figure seated on its back.

There was nothing he could do but keep shifting forward on his knees and follow.

The Prince was taking a stroll on his Pixiu.

Except the one being taken for a walk was not the Prince.

It was the Emperor of Qian.

This was humiliation, pure and complete.

No rites of All Xia.

No concern for dignity or bearing.

Zheng Fan did not care in the slightest what kind of wound this might carve into the Qian people's hearts, or whether it might make them unite in shared hatred.

He simply did not want to conciliate them.

He simply did not want to give them face.

The sky was heavily overcast today.

No sun.

No heat.

Perfect weather for walking him a little longer.

You still wanted face, didn't you?

You still wanted dignity, didn't you?

I refuse to give you either.

Not only will I refuse you.

I will crush them beneath my feet while you watch.

At last, blood had been ground from the Emperor's knees. His lips were cracked dry. His body swayed faintly, plainly close to its limit.

Only then did the Prince finally halt his Pixiu.

"Well, Your Majesty? How does it feel?"

"I... deserve it."

Zhao Mugou licked his cracked lips. Even now, he did his best to preserve his composure.

"Your Highness... is this revenge for Grand Chief Minister Li?"

The newest reports from the Yan side had reached him the night before. Together with the treatment he had suffered today, it was obvious that the attitude of Great Yan's Regent Prince had changed sharply.

And between the two stood Li Xundao's death.

"Not really. Li Xundao and I weren't close. We even had old grudges. But somehow... when I heard he'd died, it really did put me in a foul mood."

"Your Highness, yesterday in the palace, I knelt and begged Grand Chief Minister Li to stay. I tried to stop him. But Grand Chief Minister Li had made up his mind. I did not send him to shoulder the infamy of surrender in the histories for me. I... did not want him to do it. Of course, Your Highness need not believe me."

"There's no need for me to believe it." The explanation did not move the Prince in the slightest. His voice remained cold. "I felt unhappy. I had to find someone to take it out on."

"Yes. Then has Your Highness vented enough? If not, please grant me a few mouthfuls of water. I can crawl behind Your Highness a while longer."

"Zheng Fan, that's enough!!!"

A woman's sharp cry rang out.

The next moment, Zhao Mugou saw a graceful figure appear before him.

Suddenly, the Emperor of Qian, who had accepted every previous humiliation almost as though drinking sweetness, showed genuine shock.

It was only a back.

Only a few words in her voice.

But he had already recognized the woman before him.

It was you.

It was you.

You finally... finally came back to Our side?

The Emperor looked around.

Everywhere were Yan armored soldiers.

No road to Heaven.

No gate into Earth.

A dead end from which there was no escape.

"What a pity. Even with you here now, nothing can be changed... But We are truly comforted. Truly happy. Because We finally saw you. We finally waited until you came. Our... Empress."

The woman who had appeared was naturally the Sword Maid.

At first, she had been recuperating from her injuries at South Gate Pass. Later she followed Fan Li into Gou Moli's army camp. Once news came from Jiangnan, Gou Moli's force bypassed Lanyang City and raced south, and Sword Maid and Fan Li naturally came along.

Little Dog's army was still over by the Bian River, but the two of them had crossed ahead of it to join the excitement.

Outside Shangjing.

The Qian capital region.

The Emperor of Great Qian.

All of it made it easy for Sword Maid to see an old scene and remember an old person.

Her first master, Yuan Zhenxing, had died here in the capital region all those years ago, on the banks of the Bian River.

He had died to stop Yan hooves and preserve a last measure of dignity for Great Qian.

So when Sword Maid saw Zheng Fan tormenting the Emperor this way, her emotions broke loose and she rushed out.

She was the Sword Saint's disciple.

His eldest disciple, at that.

Her relationship with Mr. Li was extremely close. From Shengle to Snow Sea and then Fengxin City, many people had seen the two of them walking beneath the moon, their shadows joining until they seemed a single person.

Most importantly, although the Prince had never formally given her a status and she had never claimed one for herself, in a sense she had grown up inside the Prince Residence.

She counted as one of the Prince's adopted daughters.

So not only could she come here, no one had stopped her when she rushed out.

Even now, when she suddenly stood between her own Prince and the Emperor of Qian, the surrounding soldiers did not instinctively step forward against her.

But when the Prince's gaze settled on her, the bellyful of fury she had carried out with her slowly began turning into fear.

She herself did not know when she had begun to fear the man before her.

She still remembered being very young, not far from here on the banks of the Bian River, dragging her master's corpse while daring to speak without the slightest politeness to this Yan Garrison Commander.

But gradually... some things had changed.

She had always thought the Blind Man was the person she feared most.

What she kept avoiding and refusing to admit was that the man she now feared most was the one before her.

The Prince spoke.

"What did you call me?"

"I... I... um... that..."

Sword Maid's expression twisted painfully.

She had come out.

She had blocked him.

She had shouted the words.

And now she had no idea what to do.

At home, this man was always easygoing, lazy, amiable, and pleasant.

But Sword Maid knew perfectly well what happened when someone truly angered him.

The Emperor kneeling behind her said, "Young lady, there is no need to concern yourself with Us. Please step aside. We can still..."

"If you keep making trouble, I'll give Ah Li an order. For the rest of his life, he won't be allowed to touch you again."

"No!" Sword Maid shouted instantly.

"..." The Emperor.

At that moment, a figure like an iron tower stepped out of the army formation and came to Sword Maid.

Without saying a word, he reached out, bent down, hoisted her directly over one shoulder, and raised a huge, rough hand like a palm-leaf fan toward a certain part of her body.

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

Three swats in a row.

Then Fan Li gave Master an honest, simple smile, turned around, and carried Sword Maid back toward the army formation.

Fan Li had never liked wasting words.

"You trying to get yourself killed? You trying to get yourself killed?!"

Sword Maid, red with humiliation and fury, slapped at Fan Li's back.

Getting spanked in public before tens of thousands of people was enough to make her die of shame.

Fan Li muttered in a low voice, "Stupid wife. You trying to die?"

Fan Li understood Master's temper.

If you made him angry, you might still be fine.

But if you made him annoyed... you were finished.

The moment Sword Maid heard those words, her anger vanished instead.

He... called me his wife?

On the other side, the kneeling Emperor of Qian stared blankly ahead.

It was not that he had truly loved the woman from his dreams and paintings so deeply.

Rather, that single scene had shattered the last tiny remnant of belief inside him.

He had lost.

Lost completely.

Even without Sword Maid's interruption, the Prince had no intention of continuing the game.

He waved a hand.

Liu Dahu led several personal guards forward. They found a horse, lifted the bare-chested Emperor onto it, then tied him securely near the saddle with reins so he would not fall.

Then... the Yan army entered the city.

The first Yan troops through the gates immediately split into several forces. One took control of the defenses. One seized the streets. Another went ahead to occupy the various entrances to the imperial city.

The small number of Qian Imperial Guards left inside offered no resistance. They obediently handed over their defensive posts.

However, order still had to be maintained. Following the Regent Prince's earlier demand, after laying down their weapons they picked up prepared wooden staves like those used by yamen runners when court was in session.

By the time the Prince rode his Pixiu through the gates, Shangjing, the greatest center of letters and culture in all Xia, had completely fallen into his hands.

The Prince had entered Shangjing once before, back when he was still a Garrison Commander. But then he had rushed in and rushed out again, and it had been nighttime. There had been no opportunity to examine the scenery of this vast city.

Even though Chen Yang had once led troops into Shangjing and the city had suffered the ravages of war, almost no trace of the old chaos and blackened ruins could now be found.

One had to admire this city's power to restore itself.

They had only just entered the Imperial Avenue when Zheng Fan saw a tall wooden frame erected ahead.

A set of official robes and cap had been placed upon it, together with numerous funeral couplets.

It was for Li Xundao.

The interesting part was that this very city had eaten Li Xundao raw yesterday.

Yet because of a single sentence from the Yan Prince outside the walls, a cenotaph had been erected overnight today. Nearly every elegiac couplet bore the hand of some high official.

Clearly, when it came to speculation, these men were far more willing to invest heavily.

They had noticed that the Yan Prince seemed to hold Grand Chief Minister Li in some regard.

To the Prince, however, the sight was merely amusing.

"Burn it."

"Yes!"

Liu Dahu immediately led men forward and set fire to the cenotaph together with its wooden frame.

"Xundao, Xundao... Seeking the Way, seeking the Way. Xundao, xundao... Dying for the Way, dying for the Way."

Watching the flames rise at the side of the avenue, the Prince could not help feeling a little moved.

He thought back to those years.

A man in white robes descending the mountain and entering court as Chancellor.

Pacifying the southwest.

Mending a state already in peril.

To say that he had bent himself to the task and spent his last measure of strength would be no exaggeration at all.

And yet who could have imagined it?

The whiter those robes had been when he descended the mountain, the blacker his name would become in the histories.

The more passionately the crowds had once gathered to watch him enter the capital... the more viciously they had gnawed his flesh and bones yesterday.

"He was a man of substance," the Sword Saint said.

The Blind Man beside him shook his head.

"A man like that is destined to be written in the histories as some charlatan mystic from Back Mountain who descended to court, duped the Emperor, and made him believe nonsense about divine soldiers falling from Heaven, scattering beans to conjure troops, and ghost armies borrowing passage. Then the Yan army reaches the capital, the whole city panics, and Qian perishes. And no one will rehabilitate him in the histories. Only by making Li Xundao an object of complete contempt can they show how absurd those generations of Qian Emperors supposedly were. Only then can Qian's destruction and Yan's replacement of Qian look inevitable, natural, and justified."

The Sword Saint looked toward Zheng Fan's back ahead.

The Blind Man smiled.

"It's a pity. Master merely feels a little of one hero appreciating another toward Li Xundao. There was no real friendship between them. If there had been, with Master's temperament he would certainly have rehabilitated the man. Who would care about any so-called 'Spring and Autumn brushwork'? Put a saber against their necks and few court historians can truly keep their bones hard. But as things stand, this is about as much as Master will do for him."

"The jianghu is freer," said the Sword Saint.

"Indeed. The jianghu is free. A man can murder, burn, and commit every evil under Heaven, yet still be praised as a true hero. That's why I've always thought the people of the court are wrong to look down on the jianghu. At court, even if you truly labor until death and spare nothing of yourself, in the end they can still empty an entire chamber pot over your head. Just look at how terrible Prince Jingnan's reputation is among the common people of Yan."

The army cleared the road and escorted their Prince straight toward the imperial city.

Along the way, the Prince saw it with his own eyes.

A black banner hung before every single household.

The first Yan troops to enter had already checked street after street and ward after ward while taking over the defenses.

Any household without a black banner was broken into and put to the sword without mercy.

Some people truly had hard bones and would rather die than submit to the humiliation of hanging the flag.

Others had simply failed to buy black cloth the night before. They tried substituting brown or gray fabric, only for it to be rejected, and suffered death for no reason beyond bad luck.

The previous night, black cloth had nearly sold out at every cloth shop in Shangjing.

The demand had been too sudden for anyone to dye new stock in time, so quite a few unscrupulous shopkeepers raised their prices outrageously and made a savage profit.

From that day forward, a new idiom was born:

"Cloth Runs Dear in Shangjing."

But that was a story for later.

The Prince who had given the order could not be bothered with such details.

The Yan soldiers doing the killing could not be bothered investigating individual circumstances.

And the people of Shangjing whose homes had black banners and therefore had not been broken into had no mind to feel anger or grievance for those being slaughtered.

The moment Yan sabers appeared once more in this ancient and flourishing great city, its people became extraordinarily docile.

After all... their great lords and officials were following along behind the conquerors.

And after all... their Emperor sat bare-chested on horseback, serving as little more than a backdrop for Great Yan's Regent Prince.

Years ago, when Zheng Fan had brought Xiong Liqing into the Yanjing imperial palace to pay court to the late Emperor, Zheng Fan had guided her into saying that compared with Chu's imperial palace, Yan's was downright shabby.

The late Emperor had thrown back his head and laughed, delighted beyond measure.

Later...

Prince Jingnan burned Chu's imperial city.

And now... the most magnificent and splendid imperial palace among the old Four Great States had also bowed beneath Yan hooves.

This was not barbarism defeating civilization.

Because weakness... had never been a defining trait of civilization.

Inside the great hall, the Prince climbed the dragon steps one at a time.

Behind him, on the right side of the hall, stood the many Qian ministers and nobles.

On the left stood the generals of the army.

Under the stunned gazes of the Qian and the thunderous cheers of the Yan soldiers, the Prince reached the dragon throne.

He extended a hand.

Brushed at dust that could not possibly have existed on the seat.

Then turned.

Slowly, yet with absolute certainty... he sat down.

Anyone observant enough would have noticed that the Prince did not sit exactly in the center.

He left at least a little room beside himself.

Enough, at minimum, to squeeze in one roast duck from Quande Restaurant in Yanjing.

"Long live Your Highness! Long live! Long, long live!"

"Long live Your Highness! Long live! Long, long live!"

The Qian on the other side could only join the cry.

The Prince raised a hand.

The entire great hall fell silent in an instant.

Chief Minister Sun of Qian stepped forward and read the edict of surrender.

When he finished, by rights someone from the Yan side should have stepped out to read Great Yan's decree.

No one did.

Then the Prince, seated upon the dragon throne, spoke.

"Eight hundred years ago, the Three Marquises opened the frontiers. Only then did All Xia take the shape it bears today! All Xia shares one script and one ancestry. We were always one family. Great Yan, and the people of Yan, have guarded All Xia against the Barbarians for centuries. We have not failed All Xia! Yet the Helian Clan and the Wenren Clan, those two traitors, showed no reverence for the Jin imperial house. Servants betrayed their masters first. Then the two traitors opened hostilities without declaration, provoked war on the frontier, invaded our lands, and slaughtered our people. Therefore Great Yan raised an army openly and in righteousness, destroyed those two traitorous houses, and welcomed the Jin imperial house to Yanjing to be maintained in honor, thereby preserving the friendship of the Three Marquises. Chu colluded with the Savages and committed an outrage against all proper order. Therefore we led an army to punish it! A hundred years ago, while Great Yan fought a decisive war against the Barbarians in the desert, Emperor Taizong of Qian colluded with those Barbarians and struck us from behind, betraying the common righteousness of All Xia. And now a collateral branch has rebelled against its superiors, driven the late Emperor to his death, and stolen the imperial throne. Great Yan therefore raised an army of justice to put down Qian's disorder and restore brightness and order beneath Heaven! Great Xia is gone. But Great Yan remains. So long as the Black Dragon Banner still stands upon the soil of All Xia... then All Xia will be guarded by Great Yan! If you cannot do the job well... Great Yan will do it for you! If you have done it wrong... Great Yan will correct it for you!"

The Prince's voice echoed through the golden hall.

At last, he leaned sideways against the arm of the dragon throne and smiled.

"The Emperor of Great Yan has already proclaimed to all beneath Heaven: Among the states of All Xia, those who were Emperors shall be reduced to princely rank. Those who were sovereigns of states shall be reduced to the ranks of Marquis or Count. Each must submit a memorial and personally travel to Yanjing to receive investiture and confirmation. From this day onward, if any house dares arrogate a rank beyond its station... by all means. This Prince welcomes it. Not only will I welcome it... I will personally bring Great Yan's iron cavalry to your door... and congratulate you."

[End of Chapter 1016]