No matter how turbulent the undercurrents in the Southern Capital were, the common people continued living their lives. The streets remained bustling with noise and excitement, and the Jade Algae Tower was as crowded with guests as ever.

After a sleepless night, Fang Xian Ye and his servant He Zhi walked out of the Jade Algae Tower. He Zhi carried a double-layered food box containing freshly baked pastries from the tower, with tiny water droplets condensing on the warm outer wall of the container. They had barely taken a few steps out of the main entrance when a ragged child suddenly rushed out, snatched the food box from He Zhi’s hand, and ran forward with it.

He Zhi was stunned for a moment, then shouted angrily: “You little brat!”

He chased after the child furiously, but the child hadn’t gone far when his hand slipped. The food box fell to the ground, the lid slid open, and the pastries rolled onto the roadside, covered in dirt. Yet the child grabbed the filthy pastries and stuffed them into his mouth, swallowing without even chewing.

By then, He Zhi and Fang Xian Ye had reached him. Seeing the two approaching, the child immediately fell to his knees, kowtowing as he pleaded, “Noble sirs… I’m so hungry… please don’t beat me… have mercy on me…”

Just as He Zhi was about to roll up his sleeves, Fang Xian Ye stopped him. He crouched down to look at the child, who appeared to be six or seven years old. In the biting wind of the first month, he wore only a tattered single layer of clothing, his face purple from the cold, his hands and legs covered with chilblains oozing with pus. His eyes trembled with fear as he looked up.

Fang Xian Ye remained silent for a moment, then asked, “Where are your parents?”

The child shrank back, whispering, “Dead…”

“How did they die?”

“My family is from Shen Province… we escaped a drought… Then we arrived just as the capital was at war… My father went out one day… somehow ended up dead on the roadside, and a few days ago my mother died of illness… I… sir, I… I’m so hungry…”

As he spoke, the child began to cry. Tears streamed down his cracked face, and when he tried to wipe them with his chilblain-covered hands, the nobleman before him grasped his wrist. The child, face covered in tears, looked at him helplessly.

Fang Xian Ye stared into the child’s pure and vulnerable eyes. In that instant, he thought of Lin Jun in his prime, and of the young Emperor in Ning Le Palace, dressed in magnificent clothes and unfathomably deep. A shudder ran through him, and a sense of dread welled up from the depths of his heart.

What had he been thinking about for the past year and more? What had blinded him?

At this moment, the vortex of power suddenly seemed distant. He remembered the mutilated bodies with anguished expressions that lined the streets during the Southern Capital’s civil unrest; he recalled the smoke and fire on the battlefields of Yun and Luo provinces, and the commoners who served in the mines and horse farms.

It was as if he had suddenly awakened from a dream with a jolt, feeling like he no longer recognized himself. That imperial edict seemed like a curse—from the moment he received it, he had fallen into a conflicting abyss, forgetting certain things.

Very important things—he had forgotten why he had entered government service in the first place.

Without Duan Xu, the Emperor and Lin Jun’s “eventual recovery” meant delaying for a year or two, costing thousands of gold and countless lives, an unbearable burden on the common people’s shoulders. Those in power might not feel the pain, but the world wasn’t just the size of the imperial palace or the Southern Capital. Among the thirty-six provinces and millions of commoners, how many could afford this price?

Could the Great Liang Dynasty truly afford this price?

In his time at the Ministry of Revenue, he had witnessed how quickly war depleted funds. If the fighting continued, it would bankrupt Great Liang—what prosperity would be left to speak of? How could he righteously use “saving people” as an excuse while committing murder? Had he unknowingly become tainted because the court was a quagmire of power struggles, where everyone fought to preserve their glory amidst the turmoil?

Fang Xian Ye closed his eyes, and after a moment, let out a long sigh. He said to He Zhi, “Go back to the Jade Algae Tower and buy two more sets of the same food. Give one portion to him, then bring this child back to our residence.”

He Zhi was stunned, scratched his head, agreed, and turned back to run into the Jade Algae Tower.

Fang Xian Ye stood up and, in the slightly chilly sunlight of early spring, gazed toward those majestic palace halls in the distance. The palaces were draped in a layer of golden light, brilliant and magnificent. His gaze gradually turned cold, as frigid as an ice surface in the depths of winter, until finally, he smiled bleakly.

At this juncture, he had to admit that Duan Xu’s life was more important than his own.

This was a disaster of his own making, and he couldn’t let Duan Xu die because of it.

When Duan Jingyuan passed by her father’s study, she saw that the deep-colored sandalwood door was tightly closed, which usually meant her father had visitors. She thought it strange since she hadn’t heard about any friends visiting today and curiously walked toward the door. She had taken only a few steps when she saw her father’s study door open, and a person wearing a veiled hat emerged.

Her father’s expression was solemn. When he saw Duan Jingyuan, his face darkened, and he was about to reprimand her when the veiled person raised a hand to stop him, saying, “I was just about to look for Miss Duan.”

Duan Jingyuan was surprised—the voice was too familiar—it was Fang Xian Ye.

Fang Xian Ye walked toward her and handed her a food box, saying, “Thank you for the dumplings during the New Year, Miss Duan. I’m returning the container.”

Duan Jingyuan observed her father’s expression as she accepted the food box from Fang Xian Ye. Opening it, she exclaimed in surprise, “Wow! This… this is my favorite… How did you know I liked this?”

Fang Xian Ye seemed to laugh softly, saying, “Take me to see your brother.”

Duan Jingyuan peeked at her father, who didn’t stop her, so she agreed and led Fang Xian Ye to Duan Xu’s Bright Moon Residence. Inside Duan Xu’s room, the fire was burning, making it very warm. He was still in deep sleep, covered with thick brocade quilts, his face bloodless and thin in the dim daylight, like a paper cutout.

Standing beside Duan Xu’s bed, Duan Jingyuan sighed, “Third Brother drifts in and out of consciousness, his high fever won’t break, and he’s always in a daze. The former Imperial Tutor introduced a renowned physician who said there’s a way to make my brother recover, but it will take some time.”

“How long is ‘some time’?”

“The physician didn’t specify.”

Fang Xian Ye nodded, saying, “As long as he doesn’t die, that’s good.”

The words were so blunt that Duan Jingyuan felt somewhat angry, but she suppressed her temper and said, “When Third Brother returned this time, his health was already poor. Chen Ying’s death in battle was a huge blow to him—he cared deeply for Chen Ying.”

Fang Xian Ye smiled noncommittally and said, “That’s the kind of person he is.”

Although he doesn’t expect anything, he always takes the fate or misfortune of others upon his shoulders.

Duan Jingyuan observed Fang Xian Ye’s expression and curiously asked, “You and my Third Brother… you’re close friends, aren’t you?”

Fang Xian Ye looked up at Duan Jingyuan, thought for a moment, and said, “I suppose so. Your Third Brother is only owed by others in this world; he owes nothing to anyone. But soon, he’ll be indebted to me.”

The bright days ahead will be his to see.

Duan Jingyuan showed a puzzled expression; she couldn’t understand what Fang Xian Ye was saying. After hesitating for a moment, she decided to voice the suspicion hidden in her heart: “Fang Xian Ye… are you my father’s illegitimate son?”

Fang Xian Ye’s composure finally showed a crack. He widened his eyes at Duan Jingyuan, contemplatively saying, “So Miss Duan sent me dumplings because she thought I was her half-brother?”

Duan Jingyuan was flustered and hurriedly said, “Not necessarily half-brother! Perhaps you could also be my father’s godson, or adopted son, or something like that.”

“Would you prefer me to be your blood brother or just your godbrother?” Fang Xian Ye asked.

“…What do you mean ‘prefer’! What exactly is your relationship with my father?” Duan Jingyuan glared at him, though unfortunately, her ear tips were red, making her appear fierce on the outside but timid within.

Fang Xian Ye looked at her expression for a long while, then pursed his lips and smiled somewhat sadly yet tenderly, saying, “I suppose I could be considered an adopted son.”

Duan Jingyuan visibly relaxed at his words, inexplicably feeling happy.

But Fang Xian Ye thought of something, his throat moving as he looked at Duan Jingyuan and said, “If that’s the case, could you call me ‘brother’ once?”

Duan Jingyuan’s eyes met Fang Xian Ye’s, and after a moment, she suddenly became awkward, tugging at the bed curtain and murmuring, “You haven’t been officially adopted into my family; you’re taking advantage of me.”

Fang Xian Ye’s gaze was intense. He clenched his fist and just silently stared at her fixedly. Under his almost tangible gaze, Duan Jingyuan averted her eyes, then brought them back to meet his, and looking into his eyes, she softly said, “Brother.”

Her voice was like jade beads falling into a porcelain bowl.

“Brother.”

Fang Xian Ye seemed to see that little girl from many, many years ago.

She had always loved pretty things since she was little, wearing her hair in bun-style topknots, with bells hanging on her body. Whenever she spotted him from a distance, she would run toward him with outstretched arms, accompanied by crisp tinkling all the way, then call out sweetly—”Brother! Carry me!”

“Brother, you’re so amazing; you’ll write the best essays in the world. You’ll be the top imperial scholar someday!”

That little girl sat on his lap as he braided her hair, while she played with folded paper and said, “When Jingyuan grows up, she’ll marry brother!”

Years later, when he first arrived in the Southern Capital and stayed at the Jin’an Temple, one day he heard a girl calling for her mother. Turning around, he saw the grown-up Duan Jingyuan. She didn’t recognize him; she just smiled, lifting her skirt and running up the wide, moss-covered stone steps, brushing past him. Her eyes were full of joy, just like when she was a child, as she ran into the radiant, warm spring day.

He stood there watching her for a long time, even after her silhouette had completely disappeared.

She always mentioned her “brother” from Dai Province to Duan Xu. She was probably the only person in the world who still remembered him.

Except she didn’t recognize him. He thought he would never again hear her call him “brother” in this lifetime.

Duan Jingyuan opened her eyes wide, grasped Fang Xian Ye’s sleeve, and said in panic, “You… why are you about to cry?”

Fang Xian Ye smiled gently, lowering his eyes, and said, “I suddenly miss my sister very much. You’re very similar to her.”

Duan Jingyuan nodded silently, carefully watching Fang Xian Ye’s expression. He extended his hand with reddened eyes and gently squeezed her hand, saying, “Jingyuan, may you find a good man, have many children and grandchildren, and live a happy life.”

His palm was very warm, making her momentarily forget to pull away.

Later, when she recalled Fang Xian Ye on this day, she would realize he had been saying goodbye to her, but unfortunately, at that moment, she hadn’t grasped the meaning behind these words.

Her understanding always came too late.

Night had fallen deeply, and Jing Yan was quite surprised by Fang Xian Ye’s visit—they weren’t particularly close. He led Fang Xian Ye to his study, dismissed all servants, and asked, “What brings Minister Fang here?”

Fang Xian Ye sat opposite him at the table in a pear wood chair, raising his eyes to look at Jing Yan: “I’ve heard that Minister Jing greatly admires General Duan.”

Jing Yan was somewhat surprised and inquired, “Where did you hear this?”

“Duan Xun Xi.” Fang Xian Ye was silent for a moment, then said, “Duan Xun Xi and I are good friends. The Horse administration corruption case from years ago—we exposed it together. Thank you for not revealing his false accounts.”

Jing Yan’s arm, holding a teacup, froze in midair, momentarily forgetting whether to put it down or raise it.

Fang Xian Ye seemed to let out a sigh of relief, jokingly saying, “I never thought the first time I’d say this would be to Minister Jing. I’ve come to see you because I have something to entrust to you.

“And what I’m telling you today will be my last words.”

The next morning at the first light of dawn, Fang Xian Ye gazed at the rising sun for a long time, then adjusted his official robes, put on his official hat, and walked into the great hall. As usual, he blended in among the officials. After the young Emperor discussed some trivial matters with the court officials, he brought up the recently received imperial edict, passing around the personally endorsed document for the officials to review.

Upon learning the contents of the edict, the officials’ eyes immediately focused on Fang Xian Ye, and the hall was suddenly in an uproar. But Fang Xian Ye just stood there holding his tablet, unmoved by the commotion.

“According to the late Emperor’s edict, Fang Xian Ye is to be promoted to Deputy Military Affairs Commissioner and Participant in Determining Government Matters for his merit in protecting the imperial carriage. It also states that Duan Xun Xi failed to rescue the Emperor in time and harbors treasonous intentions, requiring his execution.” The Emperor repeated this passage languidly, showing a reluctant expression. “General Duan is an important official of the state with brilliant military achievements. I’ve always valued him highly, and now he’s recovering from illness. I truly don’t wish to execute such a meritorious subject. But with the late Emperor’s edict before us, with my imperial father’s body not yet cold, how could I disregard his final wishes?”

Fang Xian Ye didn’t respond, so officials who knew the Emperor’s temperament spoke up: “Your Majesty is merciful, but the late Emperor was wise. The Southern Capital was in chaos for over two months, and General Duan at the frontlines must have known but didn’t send a single soldier to rescue the Emperor, clearly showing his disloyalty. If we don’t execute him now, we might be nurturing a tiger that will later bring calamity!”

The court became lively as officials began speaking one after another. Naturally, some spoke up for Duan Xu, but the situation was being guided toward the Emperor’s desired direction.

The circulating edict reached Fang Xian Ye’s hands amid the officials’ discussions. He smiled somewhat mockingly. A monarch’s naked suspicion and cruelty always had to be wrapped in a sentimental act; the truth was simply that the Emperor feared Duan Xu and thus wanted him dead.

But the Emperor also needed justification. Without proper justification, the execution knife would have to hang in the air for a while longer. If things got out of hand and the act became too absurd, cleaning up the aftermath would take time, and the blade would have to hang even longer.

Long enough for Duan Xu to escape.

Fang Xian Ye’s hand tightened around the edict, his knuckles turning white from the force. Suddenly, he stepped forward with the edict, knelt in the center of the hall, and declared loudly: “I, Fang Xian Ye, boldly report a matter and request punishment from Your Majesty. This edict… was forged by me.”

The entire court was in an uproar. Lin Jun and the Emperor were shocked and displeased. The Emperor’s gaze swept across the officials’ faces as he said, “Minister Fang…”

But Fang Xian Ye didn’t give the Emperor a chance to speak. He kowtowed to the ground and said loudly: “I have had a grudge against Duan Xun Xi for years—we are old enemies. At Jin’an Temple, fearing future changes in the situation that might endanger my life, and resenting that Duan Xun Xi would return with military achievements and be richly rewarded, I imitated the late Emperor’s handwriting and stole the imperial seal to obtain this edict.”

“However, since the late Emperor’s divine dragon returned to heaven, he has appeared in my dreams repeatedly, rebuking my disloyal and unjust heart for harming the loyal for personal gain. He said those who dare to frame a loyal subject like General Duan would surely meet ruin and die miserably. I’ve been terrified day and night, my heart and gall nearly split with fear, so I dared not deceive Your Majesty with this edict.”

Fang Xian Ye’s voice echoed throughout the great hall. The Emperor and Lin Jun hadn’t anticipated this turn of events and their faces turned ashen. The next moment, Fang Xian Ye pointed at Lin Jun and said: “A few days ago, Lord Lin learned of my forged edict and coerced me to present it to Your Majesty for his glory. I had no choice but to comply. But standing in this hall now, I can still hear the late Emperor’s angry rebukes, as if his soul remains here, unwilling to depart. I cannot bear it any longer and must reveal the truth!”

Lin Jun was so angry his face turned red. Pointing at Fang Xian Ye, he shouted: “Nonsense! Complete nonsense! Fang Xian Ye, have you gone mad?”

Fang Xian Ye suddenly rose from the ground, his eyes reddened as he said: “I have committed the grave crime of disloyalty, attempting to frame a loyal subject, an unforgivable sin. With the late Emperor’s spirit present, I have nowhere to hide. Only death remains!”

While his voice still echoed in the great hall, he unexpectedly rushed toward the nearest pillar. His red sleeves fluttered like a vermilion bird riding the wind as he crashed into the red-lacquered column as thick as an embrace.

A crisp sound, blood splattered, and the entire court fell silent.

His body fell to the ground, blood spreading rapidly beneath him, staining the edict in his hand, blurring the characters.

Jing Yan watched this scene from afar, gripping his tablet tightly and turning away, unable to bear the sight.

“I want to establish this edict as a forgery, casting all the blame outward. But there are too many flaws that wouldn’t withstand careful questioning.

“Since I’ve admitted to forging the edict, I have only death ahead. But if I die in the Imperial Hall, leaving no witness to contradict me, there will be no flaws.

“After my death, Minister Jing will take over this case. I beg Minister Jing with my life not to reopen the investigation.”

Fang Xian Ye’s face was stained with blood. His eyes remained open as the light gradually faded from them. Finally, a faint, victorious smile appeared on his face—very slight—and along with all his warmth, it turned to silence. A lantern that only ghosts could see slowly rose from his body, ascending into the endless blue sky.

The top imperial scholar of the ninth year Tian Yuan, elegant and refined, capable of writing magnificent essays, ultimately died by striking a pillar in the Imperial Hall.

All his life he had been alone, with parents who died early, only one close friend, and a girl he had loved for many years yet never let know.

Fang Xian Ye, Xian Ye.

The Pioneer, ultimately lying dead in the wilderness.