What had happened in Dan years ago was now being reenacted in Great Liang with little variation. The most likely candidates to become crown prince—or the next emperor—were Prince Su Han Ming Li and Prince Ji Han Ming Cheng. Since the former crown prince’s treason, the matter of succession had become the Emperor’s constant worry, and he had delayed appointing an heir for years.
Now the Emperor had collapsed, and most officials didn’t know whether he was alive or dead. Prince Su had taken control of the imperial palace first, so Prince Ji simply surrounded the Southern Capital. Bloodshed was imminent. Brothers fighting each other and fathers battling sons was nothing new in the imperial family.
Duan Xu placed his interlocked hands beneath his lips and asked, “How is Xian Ye doing?”
“News from the Southern Capital has been blocked; nothing can get out anymore,” Chen Ying answered while looking at the note.
He raised his eyes to Duan Xu and said, “Sister Luo Xian also said that before Prince Ji surrounded the Southern Capital, the Emperor issued an edict commanding you to immediately lead your troops back to the Southern Capital to eliminate the traitors and protect the imperial city. The messenger is already on the way, riding at full speed. He should arrive here in about ten days.”
Duan Xu laughed lightly and said calmly, “Eliminate traitors? That’s quite vague. I don’t want to be dragged into this struggle for the throne. His messenger can run seven or eight horses to death to reach my camp, but it would take me at least half a month to reorganize the army and return. What could I possibly accomplish in time?”
He spread out a sheet of paper and began drawing: “This is the Southern Capital. The garrison troops from Dai, Shun, and Yi Prefectures have all been deployed to surround the Southern Capital, so these three prefectures have no available forces. However, Li Ze’s Changming Army is stationed in Qian Prefecture, and there’s also the Fengnan Army in Xi Prefecture. These two armies are not engaged in any battles and are about the same distance from the Southern Capital as I am. Who advised the Emperor to call me back instead of them?”
Chen Ying leaned over to look. These two armies hadn’t seen battle for many years, and who knew how many phantom soldiers were on their payrolls? He said, “The fighting strength of these two armies is probably…”
“How much better could Prince Ji’s and Prince Su’s armies be? These two armies, if properly organized, would be sufficient,” Duan Xu put down his brush and said. “Currently, Qi Prefecture’s granaries are in our hands, we have warhorses from Yun Prefecture and weapons from Luo Prefecture. I command troops outside the capital, so neither Prince Ji nor Prince Su would dare touch the Duan residence. What does the chaos in the Southern Capital have to do with me? If I withdraw my troops now, I would be handing over all the progress we’ve made in the past half year. I’m not going back.”
“…”
Chen Ying had never seen anyone speak such treasonous words as righteously as his Third Brother. Duan Xu’s implication was clear—I don’t care whether the Emperor lives or dies; even if someone else takes the throne, I’ll continue fighting my battles.
This was something Duan Xu might say aloud.
“But the Emperor has already issued an edict, and the messenger is on the way. Third Brother, are you going to defy the imperial order?”
Duan Xu crossed his arms and looked at the map he had casually drawn for a while, then said, “The journey from the Southern Capital to You Prefecture is long. The messenger might encounter misfortune along the bumpy road, perhaps being robbed and losing the imperial edict and military tally.”
Chen Ying shuddered when he met Duan Xu’s smiling gaze, then heard him say, “Relay these words to Luo Xian and ask her to make the proper arrangements.”
Chen Ying agreed, sweating profusely. He often felt that if one day his Third Brother raised a flag in rebellion, he wouldn’t be surprised and would follow him. His Third Brother didn’t respect any prince; perhaps he only respected the Ghost King.
After Chen Ying left the tent, Duan Xu looked down at the map and smiled faintly.
“All the world hustles for profit, all the world bustles for gain. This kind of power struggle has played out twice in ten years. She’s probably seen too many of these and is tired of them.”
Tired.
This possibility rolled through his mind, but he quickly packed away the feelings that were about to sink into the gloom, folded the sketch, and picked up new battle reports to read.
These were good things that could temporarily make him forget many matters.
Meanwhile, the Southern Capital was shrouded in dark clouds. The city’s residents were anxious, and the usually bustling streets were nearly empty. People whispered to each other, occasionally glancing toward the imperial palace, speculating about the impending disaster.
Fang Xian Ye walked out from the main hall of Jin’an Temple, heading west around to the secluded wing rooms behind the hall, which were generally used for meditation by resident devotees. After the Emperor’s collapse, he hadn’t attended court. With security tight at the palace and his position in the Ministry of Rites being merely an idle post, he had taken leave to avoid trouble at Jin’an Temple.
This seemed normal, and no one found it inappropriate. Under the dark clouds, everyone was thinking of self-preservation.
It wasn’t long after the first lunar month, and the weather was still cold. As Fang Xian Ye passed under the eaves, his breath turned to white mist. But there were already faint hints of green on the ground and in the treetops; spring was approaching.
He walked to a quiet, deserted dwelling and gently knocked on the door.
“Who is it?” a shrill voice came from inside.
“Fang Xian Ye.”
Someone came to open the door, and Fang Xian Ye stepped inside. The person who opened the door was an elderly man approaching fifty, short and slightly plump, walking at a measured pace with a high-pitched voice—a eunuch who had long resided in the palace.
Fang Xian Ye glanced at the person lying on the couch and asked softly, “Eunuch Zhao, is the Emperor sleeping again?”
Eunuch Zhao also lowered his voice, his brow furrowed with worry: “The Emperor can only stay awake for two or three hours a day. This humble servant is so worried that I can’t even eat.”
The room in the Buddhist temple was very simple, with only a couch and two tables. The man lying on the couch was about forty years old, tall in stature, pale and weary in appearance, yet emanating an air of authority—it was the current Emperor.
Neither the civil and military officials nor Prince Su and Prince Ji had imagined that the Emperor, whose fate was uncertain, was actually at Jin’an Temple.
Fang Xian Ye’s involvement in this matter was purely accidental. He had previously been at the Yun-Luo border, and after returning, he had been demoted due to the poetry gathering incident, so he had not participated in the succession struggle. After the Emperor collapsed in court, Prince Su sealed off the palace, and like everyone else, he didn’t know the Emperor’s true condition. But a few days ago, when he went to Jin’an Temple to offer incense as usual, he was stopped by the abbot, Master Song Yun, who asked for his help with his usual expression.
Who would have thought that this help involved secretly transporting the Emperor, who had regained consciousness after fainting, into Jin’an Temple?
Master Song Yun had spent some time in the palace when he was young and had been on good terms with the Emperor. With turmoil in the palace, the Emperor couldn’t trust either Prince Su or Prince Ji, so he secretly contacted Master Song Yun and escaped from the palace to Jin’an Temple.
However, the Emperor hadn’t expected Master Song Yun to call on Fang Xian Ye for help.
At that time, Master Song Yun had been turning his prayer beads, saying “Amitabha,” and commented that Fang Xian Ye was open-minded, intelligent, and quick-witted—rare qualities in a young person, making him trustworthy. Indeed, as an outsider, he could remain calm even in the face of major events.
The Emperor, looking at Fang Xian Ye kneeling on the ground, didn’t know what to say at that moment and had to let Master Song Yun handle it.
Now, the Emperor on the couch slowly opened his eyes. Eunuch Zhao exclaimed happily, “The Emperor is awake!”
The Emperor’s cloudy eyes moved around, landing on Fang Xian Ye, and gradually became clear. He said mildly, “Minister Fang has arrived.”
Fang Xian Ye bowed and said, “Your Majesty, I’ve brought some medicinal herbs and tonics.”
The Emperor extended his hand, and Eunuch Zhao immediately went to support him, helping him sit up against the bedhead, then tucking a hand warmer for him, taking very good care of him.
The Emperor narrowed his eyes, looking Fang Xian Ye up and down, and said, “I remember, you are Yao Jian He’s student.”
Right Second Class Grand Secretary Yao Jian He, is also respectfully referred to as Duke Pei among court officials.
“I lost my father at a young age and faced many hardships on my way to the capital for the examination. Fortunately, Minister Yao appreciated me and took me in for a few days. I’ve hardly learned even two or three-tenths of Minister Yao’s scholarship; I’m ashamed to call myself his student,” Fang Xian Ye said, neither humble nor arrogant.
“Minister Fang became a jinshi at seventeen, the youngest Number One Scholar since the founding of Great Liang. You should have been spirited and complacent, yet you never showed any sign of arrogance or self-satisfaction. Instead, you maintained a sense of concern and fear, with your heart set on the common people, possessing the virtue of Yan Hui, the second sage. Previously, I intended to let you experience hardship by demoting you. Do you understand my good intentions, Minister Fang?”
Fang Xian Ye immediately bowed and said, “To receive Your Majesty’s favor is the greatest fortune of Xian Ye’s life, leaving no regrets even in death.”
Then he heard the Emperor say quietly, “I am now weak, fearing my days are numbered. In Minister Fang’s opinion, which prince would be most suitable to inherit Great Liang?”
This question was extremely sensitive. Fang Xian Ye was stunned and felt the situation was not good. He immediately knelt: “Your Majesty is in his prime and will surely live for a hundred years. How dare I speak rashly on such matters?”
The Emperor laughed lightly and didn’t let him off, instead saying, “Yao Jian He is quite close to Prince Ji. What does Minister Fang think of Prince Ji? Is he capable of such a great responsibility?”
Fang Xian Ye broke into a sweat, his fists clenched tightly. He knew the Emperor was determined to get an answer from him. After much hesitation, he gritted his teeth and said, “The Grand Duke is only familiar with Prince Ji due to marriage ties and should have no other thoughts. In this humble servant’s opinion… though Prince Ji and Prince Su are talented with great ambition when it comes to civil and military skills, Prince Jin would not be inferior.”
There was silence at first. In these confusing times, Fang Xian Ye was not very confident in his guess.
The Emperor wasn’t very pleased when he first saw him. Although he was officially a student and client of Yao Jian He and hadn’t done anything substantial, he appeared to be aligned with Prince Ji’s faction. The Emperor had been hiding in Jin’an Temple for many days without attempting to contact Prince Ji outside the city, suggesting he was dissatisfied with Prince Ji. The Emperor’s unwillingness to stay in the palace, secretly escaping, clearly showed he was also wary of Prince Su, who controlled the palace.
If his guess was correct, the Emperor was dissatisfied with both these increasingly powerful sons. The most suitable candidate left would be Prince Jin. Prince Jin was younger among the princes, wrote excellent calligraphy, and was constantly immersed in painting and poetry, seemingly uninterested in politics and avoiding the succession struggle. But Fang Xian Ye had occasionally read Prince Jin’s writings, which showed strong penmanship and breadth of mind beyond appearances—he was simply hiding his abilities.
“Prince Jin…” The Emperor laughed softly, then slowly said, “Minister Fang need not be so tense. Please rise.”
Fang Xian Ye breathed a slight sigh of relief, seeing he had guessed correctly.
He stood up from the ground, and the Emperor waved his hand. Eunuch Zhao brought a chair for Fang Xian Ye to sit. The Emperor said calmly, “Prince Su and Prince Ji want to usurp the throne while I am ill. If I hadn’t been prepared, I would have died in the palace. How can such unrighteous individuals inherit the mountains and rivers of Great Liang? I deeply agree with Minister Fang’s words. Although Prince Jin is young, he is kind and courteous, capable of bearing great responsibility. In the future, he will need capable people to assist him. I have you in mind; there will surely be a place for you by his side.”
Fang Xian Ye expressed his gratitude, but in his heart, he knew this was the Emperor’s way of reassuring him. Before Master Song Yun found him, the Emperor must have already selected a group of capable ministers for Prince Jin. Due to his close relationship with Yao Jian He, he was likely excluded from this selection.
Judging from the Emperor’s attitude, he perhaps planned to let Prince Su and Prince Ji fight like a snipe and a clam, allowing Prince Jin to benefit like a fisherman. After Prince Su and Prince Ji both suffered losses, the new Emperor would ascend the throne, and the two factions that had supported the two princes would gain nothing and likely decline, reshuffling the power in the court.
Then was this turmoil arranged by the Emperor? No, it seemed sudden and probably not the Emperor’s original intention. It was likely triggered prematurely by the Emperor’s deteriorating health.
Fang Xian Ye’s mind was rapidly analyzing the current situation when he heard the Emperor quietly ask, “Has General Duan not returned yet?”
Fang Xian Ye was startled and secretly clenched his fists.
“Your Majesty, General Duan has not yet arrived at the Southern Capital.”
“By my calculation, he should be arriving soon. Why does Minister Fang think he hasn’t returned yet?”
“This humble servant doesn’t understand matters of the battlefield and dares not speak rashly. Perhaps the situation on the road is chaotic, and the messenger hasn’t arrived yet.”
The Emperor laughed softly, then slowly said, “As soon as trouble began, I issued an edict for him to return. How could someone as well-informed as General Duan not have returned yet?”
Fang Xian Ye felt his palms begin to sweat.
Fortunately, the Emperor didn’t continue this topic and gently changed the subject to talk about other matters.