Chapter 715: The World's Movement, Welcoming the New (Part 2)

During the eventful autumn of the first year of Xiangfu, the battle situation in Guangling Road was both heartbreaking and infuriating. Yang Shenxing's forces from Jizhou were caught in a trap, and Yan Zhenchun's thirty thousand elite cavalry were completely annihilated. Although the outcome was dismal, at least they engaged the Western Chu rebels in real combat. In contrast, the hesitant and reluctant movements of several royal armies sent to quell the rebellion seemed utterly absurd to everyone in the court and throughout the land! After leaving his territory, Prince of Huainan, Zhao Ying, encamped at Huashan and made no move. Prince of Jing'an, Zhao Xun's six thousand cavalry, also remained idle after reaching Haogao Lake. As for the Crown Prince of Yan Chi, aside from causing chaos during his journey north, he completely vanished upon reaching southern Guangling Road. It seemed His Highness was not there to suppress the rebellion at all, but rather to openly profit from the situation and enjoy himself.

However, in just a few days, it would be the New Year's Eve of the second year of Xiangfu. The deployment of the Prince of Huainan's army was a morale booster. The Liyang Dynasty's perception of this prince, known for his weak character, greatly improved, as he astonishingly conquered all three passes east of Huashan—Huangyang, Xiaoxing, and Hen—in one swift move!

Among these, the commander of Huangyang Pass, Song Wuyang, had already joined the rebellion and hoisted the "Jiang" banner at the pass. However, Prince Zhao Ying of Huainan arrayed his troops a li outside the pass, rode out alone, and called for Song Wuyang's surrender. Song Wuyang ordered the city's crossbows to fire and kill him, but his deputy commander Wang Xi suddenly drew his sword and killed him on the spot. Wang Xi then opened the gates to welcome Prince Zhao Ying's army into the pass. The Prince of Huainan appointed the surrendered general Wang Xi and his three thousand troops as the vanguard, launching an overnight assault on Xiaoxing Pass, where commander Ji Yun staunchly refused to surrender. Zhao Ying ordered a full assault and personally supervised the battle. Wang Xi's soldiers braved a rain of arrows to first fill the moats, then erected scaling ladders, swarming the city like ants. In two assaults, over five hundred men were killed. Wang Xi, who had personally plunged into the fray, was covered in blood and requested a truce. Zhao Ying refused, ordering Wang Xi to observe from the side, and commanded his direct loyal troops to launch the assault. By dusk, a steady stream of mounted crossbows, catapults, and battering rams arrived on the battlefield. Both sides fought fiercely until nightfall. Eight hundred Huainan infantrymen died beneath the city walls, but Zhao Ying remained on horseback, whip in hand, beneath the Zhao banner, completely unfazed. At dawn the next day, the assault resumed. Zhao Ying's trusted general, Xia Ping, led eighty "first-to-ascend" elite soldiers in the initial push onto the city wall; all fought to the death. Commander Ji Yun pierced Xia Ping's body with an iron spear, sending it tumbling from the city wall. Enraged, Wang Xi volunteered to fight, swarming up again. His iron armor was embedded with six or seven arrows; he was struck on the shoulder by a large stone and thrown back to the ground. After getting up, he climbed the ladder again, only to have a pot of boiling oil poured over him, sending him crashing from the ladder to the ground, from where his personal guards risked their lives to carry him back.

Zhao Ying, clad in his conspicuous bright yellow prince's python robe, gazed at the grim, deadlocked battle. His ears were filled with the wails and battle cries from the city walls, the beating drums beside him, and the flapping sound of the Zhao banner whipped by the cold wind. This man, surnamed Zhao, who had always been an object of ridicule in the Liyang Dynasty, slowly raised his head to look at the character "Zhao" embroidered on the banner. His lips pursed, as if with a relieved smile, a burden lifted after many years.

The siege attackers were now on their fourth battering ram, and most of their massive mounted crossbows, capable of considerable lethality even at 300 paces, were damaged beyond use. Meanwhile, the crossbow mechanisms on Xiaoxing Pass's turrets could no longer fire a dense volley of arrows, only sporadic shots, their former vigor gone. But Xiaoxing Pass, grimly determined to perish with the fortress, continued its death throes, defending ferociously. All their "wolf-tooth clubs"—studded with over two thousand five-inch long, six-ounce nails and bladed on four sides for increased lethality—were shattered. The robust ropes of the "yaksha rollers" and "cart-foot rollers"—used with winches on the wall and designed to be retrieved—had snapped. Yet, from the city wall, brave armored soldiers continuously hurled "iron owls"—sharp iron hooks attached to long iron chains. Once thrown forcefully, these could hook onto the armor or even the bodies of the attacking soldiers, suspending them in mid-air like fish caught on a line.

Furthermore, unusually shaped "adze-axes" were used to hook, pierce, or hack off the arms of those climbing the wall.

Zhao Ying, riding a little closer to the battlefield, personally witnessed a soldier's entire arm being hacked off, the limb falling from the wall before the soldier himself.

Zhao Ying remained impassive, turning his horse with an indifferent expression.

Xiaoxing Pass, now in dire straits, sent out an urgent plea for help. Ji Yun had no choice but to order fast riders out of the east gate to seek aid from Hen Pass. They agreed that both sides would launch a surprise attack on Prince of Huainan's main camp at dawn. Xiaoxing Pass would open its gates and unleash two hundred fresh cavalrymen, with Ji Yun leading the charge, followed by Xiaoxing Pass's remaining four hundred infantry. Zhao Ying ordered his elite strategists to lead ten expert riders in pursuit, but unexpectedly, the rider escaped, albeit wounded. At pre-dawn the next day, Ji Yun, knowing Xiaoxing Pass could not hold, indeed resolved to fight to the death and appeared with the two hundred cavalrymen at the city gate. Regardless of whether the commander of Hen Pass came to their aid, he would die fighting for Great Chu. Ji Yun, in the prime of his life, was not reckless with his life, nor ignorant of the current situation. However, at his coming-of-age ceremony when he turned twenty, his father, who should have bestowed the cap upon him, was absent, as were any esteemed guests to celebrate. He had to crown himself with a black cloth cap, because Ji Hai, a general of Great Chu, had long since died in battle, and his three uncles had also fallen one after another.

Seated on his warhorse, Ji Yun, before ordering his subordinates to open the city gates, turned back to look at the faces illuminated by the torches. He said nothing, merely cupped his fist in a sudden, resolute salute.

That day, at dawn, Ji Yun, commander of Xiaoxing Pass for the Western Chu rebels, sallied forth from the city to directly assault the Prince of Huainan. However, "Zhao Ying's army" seemed to have anticipated this, calmly arraying themselves for defense. Meanwhile, Hen Pass, which had the most cavalry among the three passes, disregarded the standing order from the Western Front commander, Xie Xichui, to hold their position. They launched an all-out effort, with eight hundred cavalry and two thousand five hundred infantry rushing to relieve Xiaoxing. However, they were ambushed by Zhao Ying's main force, who had been lying in wait. The vanguard of eight hundred cavalry suffered heavy casualties under concentrated crossbow fire, and the entire army collapsed upon contact. Both the commander and his deputy were shot dead by the Prince of Huainan's skirmishers amidst the chaos. Hen Pass, left with only old, weak, and wounded soldiers, had the Zhao banner hoisted on its battlements even earlier than Xiaoxing Pass, through a surprising maneuver. The infantry commander of Hen Pass, after leading seven hundred men back to the city walls, committed suicide by slitting his throat.

After three charges, Ji Yun was struck by an arrow from Prince Zhao Ying's general Hou Datong; it pierced his skull, and he fell from his horse, dead.

The two hundred cavalry and four hundred infantry from Xiaoxing Pass also perished completely in the charge.

Zhao Ying, still wearing his striking python robe, dismounted and walked past the corpses. He slowly ascended the city wall, gazed at the rising sun in the east, and with a smile, quoted: "The sun rises gloriously, like a lamb's fur coat glistening with dew."

The Prince of Huainan, having successively conquered all three passes, did not send a single victory report to Tai'an City. He didn't even consolidate his hold on Hen Pass, one of the strategic western gateways of Guangling Road. In fact, after breaking through the pass, the prince showed no intention of splitting his forces to consolidate his gains. He merely left the heavily wounded Wang Xi and his remnants at Huangyang Pass. After planting the Zhao banner on the walls of the three passes, he led all the Huainan Road soldiers eastward, directing his army straight towards the formidable and difficult-to-assault Yaoyou Pass. Between Hen Pass and Yaoyou Pass lay a rare plain in the western part of Guangling Road, characterized by a dense network of waterways.

After a brief reorganization at Hen Pass, the Prince of Huainan took all available warhorses and slowly advanced. His posture suggested he was quietly awaiting the Western Chu's Western Front commander, Xie Xichui, the young genius general whose name was remembered by the entire Liyang court, who was rushing to Yaoyou Pass.

In the plains closer to Yaoyou Pass, both armies, having ample time for reorganization, rest, and scout reconnaissance, began to confront each other from a distance. Prince Zhao Ying of Huainan dismounted and donned exquisite armor over his python robe, with a quiver he had treasured for years on his back. This Zhao prince, derided as ambitious but untalented, this wretched man who, after taking up his fief, constantly feigned madness and alcoholism and was repeatedly reprimanded by the current Emperor; this man, who had remained childless after his eldest son "mysteriously" died at Dantong Pass, mounted his horse. Zhao Ying looked straight ahead and smiled at the two generals who had followed him for years: "Hou Datong, Yu Qianshan, Xia Ping has gone ahead of us, dying on the battlefield as we agreed when we were young. Now it's our turn. For so many years, I've caused you to live such stifled lives."

Hou Datong laughed heartily: "We've certainly lived stifled lives, but isn't dying like this quite exhilarating? Later, I must kill a few more Western Chu remnants, just to make old Xia furious—haha, I forgot the fellow is already dead!"

Yu Qianshan, who seemed more like an elegant strategist fanning himself than the rough-looking Hou Datong, was also armored and sword-bearing. He smiled and said, "You two certainly find joy in it; it's quite difficult for a scholar like me."

Before ordering the charge, Zhao Ying closed his eyes and whispered, "Father Emperor, your son has been unfilial, never having the chance to visit the imperial mausoleum and pour wine. Today, I shall offer blood instead of wine."

Directly in front of Prince Zhao Ying of Huainan, two thousand heavily armored infantry were arrayed, chevaux-de-frise in position, with a thousand elite cavalry on each flank of the infantry, and nearly a thousand skirmishers hovering in the distance, waiting for an opportunity.

On this day, apart from the four thousand soldiers conscripted from various parts of Huainan Road, Prince Zhao Ying, along with his trusted generals Hou Datong and Yu Qianshan, and all his personal guard, fought until every single one of them was killed in battle. Not a single man died from an arrow in the back, nor was a single man cut down from behind by skirmishers.

On the same day, Prince Zhao Xun of Jing'an, having rushed with his six thousand cavalry from Haogao Lake upon hearing the news, reached the outskirts of the battlefield at dusk. Knowing full well that the situation was lost and beyond recovery, knowing that Yaoyou Pass still held a thousand unmoving heavy cavalry, and having personally witnessed Prince Zhao Ying's body being impaled by a Western Chu general's spear and knocked from his horse, the young Prince Zhao Xun still resolutely led his army in a charge!

Of the six thousand Qingzhou cavalry, only two hundred desperately fought to protect Zhao Xun and help him escape the battlefield.

In this battle, of the two major princes who participated in quelling the rebellion, one died and one was wounded.

Just as the year was ending, the great victory of the Western Chu rebels at Yaoyou Pass meant that the already tenuous encirclement was breached wide open, exposed on two sides. For the Liyang court, it was like adding frost to snow—a compounding of misfortunes. While the former could joyfully bid farewell to the old year and welcome the new, the latter found its capital once again shrouded in a heavy gloom after Yan Zhenchun's death in battle. Fortunately, following Yang Shenxing and Yan Zhenchun, another seasoned veteran, famed since the Spring and Autumn period, after a frank and extensive talk with Commander Lu Shengxiang, led his troops south. Thirty thousand soldiers advanced directly towards the Qingyang Basin, not aiming to decisively defeat Western Chu, but striving to rescue the forty thousand Jinnan infantrymen trapped with General Yang Shenxing. The Grand General of Valiant Cavalry, Lu Shengxiang, who had been stalled at Youru Pass, finally made a move amidst public scrutiny, leading his army south along the Yudong Plain.

However, the most reassuring event was not the movement of nearly one hundred thousand troops, but simply the appearance of two individuals in Tai'an City.

One was His Majesty the Emperor, who, upon returning to the capital after inspecting the borders, immediately ordered the Grand Secretariat into imperial prison; the other was General Gu Jiantang, who accompanied the monarch.

That monarch, who once punished the Prince of Huainan for a trivial matter, issued only two imperial edicts upon his return to Tai'an City. The first decreed a wretched death for Zhang Julu, denying him a posthumous title. The second granted Prince Zhao Ying the highest posthumous honors, bestowing upon him the posthumous title "Yi" (Resolute), and stating, "I have lost my vital limb."

The New Year was not easy, but it still had to be crossed.

In Tai'an City, firecrackers bid farewell to the old year, but the festive spirit was noticeably diminished compared to previous years.

Thus, the Liyang court ushered in the second year of Xiangfu.

The first morning court session of the new year.

Emperor Zhao Dun sat on the dragon throne. It was not the first time he had sat facing south, looking out from the north, since his ascension. Through the wide palace doors and the wide hall doors, he gazed directly down the unobstructed imperial pathway.

A monarch should naturally face south to listen to the world, governing with enlightenment.

Perhaps keenly sensing the Emperor's distraction, Song Tanglu, the chief eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonials, did not call out "Any matters to report, or court dismissed" at the appointed time.

The civil and military officials in the court and the ministers outside the hall respectfully bowed their heads, lowering their gazes, holding their breath, and waiting in silence. Even the elderly ministers, who found early court sessions a dreadful ordeal, began to doze off imperceptibly.

The Emperor slowly, gradually withdrew his gaze, from the imperial pathway that seemed to stretch endlessly to the southern frontiers, back to the palace gates. The Emperor clearly remembered summoning two military generals back then, after they first annihilated Great Chu and then pacified Western Shu. The older, limping one walked with unhurried steps, not slow because of his limp, but with a kind of casualness that suggested he didn't take this most solemn path for a subject seriously. This man carried the renowned Xu family blade. His every step closer made the Emperor, as the Son of Heaven, feel a suffocating sense of humiliation.

Behind the limping man was a young man, handsome and dressed in white, truly young, inspiring an immediate sense of closeness. Especially for him, the new emperor, who possessed the empire, he wished he could humble himself and converse with him as friends. Deep down, the new emperor believed that if the late emperor had the limping man to fight battles across the land, then he too should have a "White-Clothed Military Saint" who was even greater. He could also, like the late emperor, boldly grant a young general the greatest power and the most troops, lead his horse to see him off, and let him act freely to conquer beyond the borders, for monarch and minister to jointly establish unparalleled frontier achievements.

However, that young man in white declined. The Emperor was disappointed, but not angry.

Later, the Emperor watched as other brilliant young scholars, who would later shine, walked similarly in the morning light, step by step into his sight, carrying an undisguised mix of apprehension and excitement. Yin Maochun, Zhao Youring, Bai Guo, Wang Xiongong, Zheng Zhenxian, Qian Youjian... a dazzling array.

Together, they created the Yonghui Spring of the Liyang Dynasty.

And they were destined to be immortalized with him in historical annals.

At the court sessions in the late Yonghui era, the defiant and troublesome princes Xu Xiao and Zhao Bing were absent from the court. But there were meritorious military generals like Gu Jiantang, Yang Shenxing, and Yan Zhenchun. There were also promising young generals like Lu Shengxiang and Lu Baixie, who had ample years to accumulate military achievements. There were gradually aging civilian leaders like Zhang Julu, Huan Wen, and Yao Baifeng. There were renowned figures in their prime, such as Yin Maochun. And a seemingly inexhaustible supply of top imperial scholars, including the *Zhuangyuan*, *Bangyan*, and *Tanhua*.

The late Emperor had deeply regretted that when he first set his sights on conquering the realm, he was constantly short-staffed.

But Zhao Dun was different; he truly felt the grandeur of presiding over an empire.

The Emperor's gaze shifted again, landing on the hall entrance.

That threshold was a crucial "Dragon Gate" that every official in the land wished to cross. He had personally watched elderly civil and military officials, their rank badges embroidered with egrets, herons, or bears, kneel year after year on the square outside the hall, yearningly gazing at what the common people called the "Golden Throne Hall", kneeling until they were in their coffins, never having entered.

He had also witnessed many scenes that made him want to laugh but had to restrain himself. Some fainted from hunger or sunstroke and were carried away by eunuchs. Some, unable to hold their bladders, were discovered, reprimanded, and received demerits. There were even colleagues who, after having a public spat over a courtesan the day before, would secretly elbow each other the next morning. And there was one who quietly yawned, only for the Emperor, with his sharp eyes, to spot him. Playfully, he deliberately put on a stern face and called him into the hall for a lecture. He remembered the fellow, before the Emperor could even speak, dropping to the ground with a thump, a seven-foot man, kowtowing repeatedly, tears streaming down his face. The Emperor kindly inquired, learned that the man had been on duty at the Ministry of Revenue the previous night and had barely slept, so he granted him a day's leave to rest. He even asked with a smile if the head official of the Ministry of Revenue in the hall could approve it. At that time, it wasn't Wang Xiongong or Bai Guo serving as Minister of Revenue. The old minister, known for his strictness, uncharacteristically joked in agreement, "With Your Majesty's golden word, even if I disapprove, I must approve." Six years later, that Ministry of Revenue official was promoted to governor of Huainan Road, while the old minister had long since retired to his hometown.

The Emperor's gaze returned to the interior of the grand hall.

The chair of the old Grand Tutor of Western Chu, Sun Xiji, was gone. That old man was probably now standing before that little girl in the Western Chu imperial palace.

The Emperor could not bring himself to hate this old man. In several conversations between monarch and subject, the Emperor admired the old man's profound knowledge. He even privately stated that, for now, only the lands and customs of Western Chu could bestow upon the old man such a unique demeanor, and of course, it was only temporary; the old man had also sincerely nodded in agreement. Even if such an old man went to Western Chu, the Emperor believed that even if the imperial army pacified Guangling Road in the future, as long as the old man wished to live, the Liyang Dynasty should have the magnanimity to allow him to enjoy his twilight years in peace.

The Emperor finally looked at the young man standing with his back to him, facing the court, dressed in a bright yellow python robe.

It was his son, Crown Prince Zhao Zhuan.

The Emperor had no complaints about this son, who had already overseen state affairs for some time.

But looking at him, he couldn't help but feel a little guilty towards his eldest legitimate son, Zhao Wu. This was why he intended to marry off the supposedly peerlessly beautiful Chen Yu to Zhao Wu, who was stationed at the border.

And looking over the Crown Prince's head, the Emperor saw a glaring empty seat.

Nearby stood Huan Wen of the Department of the Gate, who had been there for some years, and the newly appointed Grand Councilor, Qi Yanglong.

On the other side stood Gu Jiantang, the Grand Pillar of the State, who had returned from Liangliao.

Only one person was missing.

The Emperor instinctively gripped the armrests of the dragon throne.

He had visited the imperial prison, but always stood far away, from late night until dawn, never approaching to face that man.

He was afraid, afraid that the purple-bearded, green-eyed man would be in a sorry state in prison, afraid he would see the Grand Secretariat looking utterly dispirited.

But what he truly feared in his heart was that this scholar, Zhang Julu, would show no trace of dejection, but merely smile and curse him, Zhao Dun, as an incompetent ruler!

The Emperor, lips trembling slightly, quietly released his grip.

Almost simultaneously, Song Tanglu announced loudly: "Any matters to report, or court dismissed!"

In the bone-chilling night, a couple walked hand in hand through the silent palace. Reaching a majestic hall, the vibrant man turned to tighten the fox fur collar around his wife's chest, then looked up at the top of the pavilion, pointed, and softly chuckled: "'Sharing heart and soul, monarch and minister share the autumn moon. Kindred spirits, brothers share the spring breeze.' This was the bond between the late Emperor, Xu Xiao, and Yang Taisui there."

The man turned gently, held his wife's hands, and lowered his head to breathe warm air onto them, then said: "'A true man should soar like an eagle; how can he lie low like a mere hen?!' Zhao Heng blurted this out before the late Emperor when he was seven. I could never have said such a thing. 'My brother desires four things to be well: green mountains, stored books, beautiful women, and his elder brother.' That's what Zhao Yi, that big fatty, said. So the empire is mine, his elder brother's, but I'm happy to give him Guangling Road. When Zhao Bing was young, he often claimed he could hear the short sword by his bed humming like a dragon and tiger. But the older he got, the more taciturn he became, so I sent him to the southern frontiers to deal with Beimang, leaving him out of this. As for Zhao Ying and Zhao Sui, I never had much affection for them, but since Zhao Ying died a fitting death, I won't be stingy with anything."

The man looked at his wife, whose eyes were red-rimmed, and suddenly smiled. "I know," he said, "this is a final burst of energy; my time is short."

His wife, Empress Zhao Zhi, who embodied imperial dignity, gently rested her head on his shoulder.

Just Zhao Dun, not "the Emperor", stroked his wife's hair, and softly said: "I have no regrets in this life, except that I spent too little time with you. It's funny, perhaps I spent more time facing those Grand Secretaries and dealing with those memorials than I did by your side."

Zhao Zhi suddenly asked: "Do you remember that game we used to play? Back then, you were just a prince, and I was a princess consort."

Zhao Dun burst out laughing, took a step back, and solemnly bowed: "Long live, long live, a thousand times long live, Your Imperial Majesty!"

Zhao Zhi also stepped back. "Long live, long live, ten thousand times long live, Your Majesty!"

A moment later, Zhao Dun covered his mouth, still coughing ceaselessly.

Zhao Zhi gently patted his back.

After recovering, Zhao Dun tightened his grip on her hand. "Let's go."

Zhao Zhi hummed softly in agreement.

She said: "Your Majesty, do you know? I was so happy to marry you. And to grow old with you, even happier."

"I know you always thought you weren't handsome enough, but actually, you couldn't be more handsome. Look, you have white hair, yet I never tire of seeing you; it's still exactly like the first time I saw you, when I instantly fell deeply in love, a love that will never fade in this lifetime."

"So you can say such sweet words too."

"Haha... Of course I can say sweet words. I used to think the best sweet words were simply walking with you to this day, and letting you know that I love you even more than when I first fell in love."

The woman, whose hand was tightly held, stopped, whimpering and sobbing, utterly lacking the dignified bearing expected of an empress.

He also stopped, attempting to reach out and wipe away her tears.

But he ultimately collapsed towards her.

She embraced him, and though tear stains remained, her eyes were exceptionally resolute. She whispered, "It's good that you're gone. You can finally rest in peace. I will help you watch over this great empire, and watch over Zhuan'er on the dragon throne..."

Barely into the second year of Xiangfu, an enormous piece of dreadful news arrived.

As spring arrived in the Liyang Dynasty, the entire nation donned white mourning clothes.

In the vast city of Tai'an, cries of sorrow could be heard everywhere.

Then, a young man named Zhao, who had been a prince for over twenty years and had worn the Crown Prince's python robe for only a year, rightfully donned the unique robe of the dynasty and became ruler of the realm.

The young monarch, clad in a perfectly fitting, brand-new dragon robe.

Sat high upon that chair.

As all the civil and military officials performed the grand kowtow, he, like emperors before him, emotionlessly gazed into the distance.

At this moment, the Emperor should have simply raised a hand in a symbolic gesture and calmly, courteously said, "Rise, my Lords."

But he was in no hurry to speak.

He squinted, fully enjoying the sight of the dense, kneeling figures both inside and outside the hall.

If he didn't speak, no one could rise.

Because from now on, he, Zhao Zhuan, was the Emperor of Liyang!

He casually glanced towards the northwest, an almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips.