That winter, after struggling to hold on for three months, the Eastern Court finally collapsed with the fall of Liuhe City — the last stronghold that had been counted upon to withstand the advancing forces.

Beacon fires blazed across the land. Word spread that the great army marching eastward along the river from the west would reach Jiangdu within days. The once-thriving city bore no trace of its former revelry. Within and without the city gates, smoke and dust choked the air; soldiers surged through the streets while carriage after carriage laden with gold, silver, and treasure — carrying their owners — fled southward in desperate haste.

These were the imperial clansmen, nobles, and officials of the Eastern Court. With Jiangdu lost, they had no choice but to follow Zhao Xitai once more, abandoning their territory and retreating toward the southeastern coast, hoping to eke out a continued existence.

Zhao Xitai had shed his imperial robes and dressed as a common man. He was the last of the Eastern Court to leave Jiangdu. As he rode out on horseback through the city gates, accompanied by a contingent of soldiers, a few trusted attendants, and military commanders, he saw crowds of Jiangdu commoners lining both sides of the road, watching with cold eyes. Some standing at the back were even whispering among themselves, their faces barely concealing what seemed to be a certain gloating satisfaction.

One of his attendants flew into a rage and urged him to set the city ablaze — to let these ungrateful, contemptible people receive the punishment they deserved.

Several of the whispering commoners seemed to sense the fury radiating from the column of men. Panic crossed their faces and they turned to flee, but soldiers had already rushed forward, seized them, and shoved them to their knees before Zhao Xitai.

With blades at their heads, these were ordinary people — how could they not be terrified? They knocked their heads against the ground, begging without cease for mercy.

Zhao Xitai’s complexion was deathly pale. He looked down at the people on the ground and said, “Since my arrival, I repaired waterways and abolished harsh levies — I did something for you, at least. I have not wronged you. Now that I am leaving, your not following me is one thing, but to show such expressions — if you cannot give me a reason, I will have you killed!”

The group cried out in alarm: “Your Majesty’s grace toward Jianghuai has fallen on us like rain and dew. But does Your Majesty know — those princes and officials are every one of them bloodsucking leeches. They treat us common people as fish and meat to be carved at will. There is not a single household among us that has not suffered beyond endurance. In the past we dared feel angry but dared not speak. Just now, remembering all this, we lost ourselves for a moment and showed disrespect — we beg Your Majesty to spare our lives…”

An attendant drew his blade. Zhao Xitai stopped him.

He turned and looked back at the city he had once labored so hard over, in which he had placed such hopes — and suddenly burst into laughter, laughing until tears nearly came to his eyes.

The Eastern Court’s princes had been dissolute and extravagant; its officials had pursued nothing but pleasure. He had not been unaware of this, but no matter his own capabilities, he still had to rely on these people. It was precisely because he did not trust them that he had previously hoped to form an alliance with the Kingdom of Changsha, to improve his odds of success.

But Mu Fulan had not trusted him either, and had gently declined his proposal.

Today’s outcome had also proven the soundness of her judgment. Before Xie Changgeng’s armies, all his previous efforts appeared so feeble and hollow — collapsing without the slightest resistance.

“Xie Changgeng, can you hear me — this time, I have not lost to you. I have lost to those beneath me…”

He stopped laughing. Gazing at the distant silhouette of that convoy of carts carrying gold and jewels as it disappeared ahead of him, he gripped the hilt of his sword tightly and murmured these words.

……

After defeating the Prince of Zhao and seizing complete control of the capital court, Xie Changgeng had pressed his advantage and launched a campaign against the Eastern Court. Zhao Xitai had set fire to his granaries, and upon receiving confirmed intelligence, Xie Changgeng had met him with overwhelming force, hoping to strike a decisive blow while the enemy’s morale was shaken. What no one had anticipated was that the fire had destroyed nothing more than an empty storehouse stuffed with chaff — the real provisions had already been secretly moved in advance, and the so-called “defecting general” had been nothing but a ruse orchestrated by Xie Changgeng to mislead the enemy. After holding out for three months, the Eastern Court was routed and fled south of the Ling Mountains.

This news reached the Kingdom of Changsha.

Of all the territories in the heartland that had yet to submit to Xie Changgeng, only Dongting now remained. The people were convinced that Xie Changgeng would soon launch an attack on Changsha — that his great army might arrive any day. In those days, talk of nothing else could be heard in every street and alley of Yue City; the atmosphere was tense beyond measure.

In the palace council hall, that night, candlelight blazed brightly. Mu Fulan sat alone behind the desk, staring at a letter she had just finished writing.

The sound of footsteps.

Yuan Handing walked in and said quietly, “My lady, everything on the Sanmiao side has been arranged. They can set out at any time. The three clans revere you as a deity — you need not worry at all about taking the young lord there. Your remaining years will be secure and free from hardship.”

Mu Fulan was lost in thought for a moment, then nodded with a small smile. “You have worked hard. Lu Lin and the others have been living in fear and anxiety these days — it has been difficult for them.” She pushed the wax-sealed letter across the desk toward him.

“This letter is extremely important. Tomorrow morning, once you have sent it on its way, I will summon my officials and the Mu clan members and explain my decision to them. Afterward, those who wish to withdraw with me to Sanmiao may come along. Those who do not wish to go may stay. I have done my best in the letter to secure official positions and stipends for these people. Although they will not compare to what they have now, they should still be sufficient for a lifetime of peace and security. As for those who wish to rise higher — once the new dynasty is established, that will depend on their own abilities.”

“If the realm can be unified without warfare, I expect Xie Changgeng will not mistreat the old retainers of Changsha.”

Yuan Handing hesitated, then said, “My lady, if you but give the word, Changsha’s hundred thousand soldiers will answer the call without hesitation. As for Sanmiao — the three clans have sworn their allegiance to you; within days, their forces can be assembled, ready to be deployed at will. If Xie Changgeng’s army advances, I will lead our troops with everything I have. I cannot promise victory, but he should not expect to take Dongting so easily. Once he meets with setbacks, he will have cause to reconsider.”

“And even in the worst case — even if we ultimately cannot hold out — there will still be time then to escort you safely to Sanmiao. My lady, please do not be too hard on yourself!”

Mu Fulan smiled.

“Elder Brother Yuan, I know you cannot bear to see me suffer the slightest grievance, but you do not know — in this matter, I feel no grievance whatsoever. If I had wished to contend for power and kingship like Zhao Xitai, I would have sent you out to strike in all directions long ago, and I certainly would not have refused the joint army proposal with the Eastern Court. You need not think too much of it. The great tide of the realm has turned as it has. Were it not for the army you trained in those years, Elder Brother, Changsha would have had no bargaining power to negotiate with Xie Changgeng as we can now. For me, and for the people of Changsha alike, this is the best possible outcome. Even standing before the ancestors of the Mu clan, I can say my conscience is clear.”

Yuan Handing was silent for a moment, then stepped forward and reverently took the letter with both hands. “As you command.”

He had turned to withdraw when the sound of hurrying footsteps came from outside the hall, and an attendant entered to report: “My lady, just now someone arrived at the city gate in the middle of the night. He says his name is Liang Tuan and that you know him, my lady — he says he has been sent to deliver a letter to you. The man has been held outside the city gate.”

Mu Fulan was mildly startled, then asked at once, “The letter — where is it?”

The man hastily came forward and presented a letter.

Mu Fulan took it and examined the envelope by the bright candlelight.

On the seal, there was only a single column of characters.

“To be opened personally by the Lady of the Mu Clan.”

The moment she saw those characters — bold as iron strokes, bright as silver hooks — Mu Fulan’s heart gave a small, unbidden jump.

She recognized them at once.

This was Xie Changgeng’s handwriting.

At such a time as this, he had suddenly taken the initiative to write to her. What could he possibly want?

Mu Fulan opened the envelope and drew out the letter within.

On the sheet of paper, there were only a few brief lines.

He said he had an important matter to discuss with her. He had originally intended to come to Yue City himself, but fearing it would be inconvenient for her, he had stopped at Fuzhou instead, and asked her to spare the time to come to Yunmeng, where he would await her.

She read it once, then could not help reading it again.

The handwriting was unmistakably Xie Changgeng’s — she could not possibly be mistaken. But what astonished her was the tone of this letter: from beginning to end, it was remarkably courteous, and between the lines she could even sense a kind of deliberate restraint — as though the writer had weighed his every word with great care before setting them down.

Mu Fulan could not help but be taken aback.

Since the execution of Empress Dowager Liu, the Eastern Court — which had stood in opposition to the capital for years — had also fallen. The moment had come. In her original reckoning, what Xie Changgeng should most likely be occupied with now was his enthronement as emperor.

Even if he were to disregard the promise he had once passed to her through Xi’er and intended to press his advantage without delay — to annex Dongting while the iron was hot — he would not stoop to something so crude as coming here in person to apply pressure.

He had no shortage of methods. Li Liang of Fuzhou was already his ready-made instrument.

Yet at this moment, he had secretly traveled south and sent such a letter, asking to meet with her. What, exactly, was his purpose?

She saw Yuan Handing watching her and handed the letter over to him.

Yuan Handing read it, then said immediately, “My lady, do not go — this may well be a trap! If he truly has something to discuss, let him come here instead.”

Mu Fulan considered for a moment, then said, “He already holds every advantage. Even if he truly wished to harm me or Changsha, there would be no need for such elaborate arrangements. Besides, the proposed meeting place is Yunmeng — there is no need for excessive worry. I had already intended to write to him to discuss matters; now that he has come of his own accord, it is all the more convenient. Some things are better discussed face to face.”

She put the letter away and gave orders for someone to invite Liang Tuan inside and arrange lodgings for him. She then told Yuan Handing: “Tomorrow morning, there is no need to alarm Lu Lin and the others. Take a few people and accompany me to Yunmeng. Let us see what his purpose is in making this journey.”