HomeLove of NirvanaChapter 132: The Arrow Has Left the Bow

Chapter 132: The Arrow Has Left the Bow

November 24th, Winter Solstice, clear and cold with strong winds.

The Winter Solstice was the most important festival in the Hua Dynasty. Every year on this day, the Emperor would lead the princes and civil and military officials to the Imperial Mausoleum to worship Heaven. After the ceremony, the Emperor would host a grand banquet in the palace for officials and foreign envoys. Following the feast, the court would be suspended for three days, during which all officials would don auspicious attire and exchange greetings on red paper. Commoners would tie red ropes in front of their doors and burn incense to worship Heaven and their ancestors.

At the crack of dawn, Wei Zhao, dressed in a snow-white fur coat with a jade hairpin slanted in his hair, entered Yanhui Palace with a faint smile on his lips.

Eunuch Tao was bent over, fastening a nine-holed white jade belt for the Emperor. Hearing footsteps, the Emperor looked up, saw Wei Zhao, and smiled, “It’s the grand ceremony today, yet you’re not in official robes. You’re too casual.”

Wei Zhao picked up the golden crown adorned with nine dragons and jade pearls, approaching the Emperor as Eunuch Tao hastily retreated. Wei Zhao placed the crown on the Emperor’s head, secured the bright yellow ribbon, and then stepped back two paces, slightly raising his finely shaped eyebrows without a word.

The Emperor examined himself in the bronze mirror. The reflection showed a man with eyebrows like carved blades but with hints of gray at his temples. His gaze remained sharp, though faint dark lines had appeared under his eyes. He beckoned, and Wei Zhao approached, standing half a step behind him.

The Emperor gazed at their two reflections in the bronze mirror, sighed, and said, “If I could be as young as you, I’d trade everything for it.”

Wei Zhao smiled faintly and replied, “Your Majesty, why are you speaking like a child today?”

The Emperor found Wei Zhao’s smile particularly radiant today. His smile reflected in the bronze mirror, exuded a brilliance never seen before. For a moment, he seemed to see again that snow-skinned, jade-boned youth of years past, smiling at him, as if hearing once more that pure voice saying, “—After all, you’re a good person.”

He turned to face Wei Zhao and said softly, “San Lang.”

But Wei Zhao stepped in front of him, raising both hands. The Emperor instinctively tilted his head back slightly as Wei Zhao undid the bright yellow ribbon under his chin, retied it, looked it over, and smiled, “There, it’s tied properly now.”

The Emperor closed his eyes, then quickly opened them again, saying coolly, “You’re going up to Fang City today. I’ve asked Jiang Yuan to temporarily take over the Light Ministry’s defense duties. Once you’re out of Fang City, they’ll be handed back to you.”

Wei Zhao paused briefly, remembering that Yi Wu had already arranged everything, and according to Pei Yan’s hints, Jiang Yuan seemed likely to remain neutral. Not worried, he stepped back two paces and said solemnly, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Alright then, let’s go. The officials have been waiting for some time,” the Emperor said, no longer looking at Wei Zhao. With a slight sweep of his wide sleeves, he strode steadily out of the inner chamber.

In the outer hall, the gray-robed, masked Master Ye approached. Wei Zhao gave him a sidelong glance, and the two silently followed behind the Emperor, exiting Yanhui Palace.

The Emperor rode in the imperial palanquin to the front of Qianqing Gate, where the officials prostrated themselves to receive him. As the Emperor alighted from the palanquin and the ceremonial music began to play, he was about to ascend the sixteen-wheeled grand carriage when he suddenly paused, frowning slightly. “If the Crown Prince can’t be exposed to the wind, he shouldn’t go.”

Pei Yan’s eyes flickered slightly, and the prostrate Prince Zhuang’s body stiffened. Even Wei Zhao couldn’t help but look back at the Crown Prince’s carriage.

The Crown Prince, wearing an enormous wide-brimmed gauze hat and wrapped in a thick cloak, hurried over and bowed, saying, “This son thanks Father Emperor for his concern. The Winter Solstice ceremony at the Imperial Mausoleum is of utmost importance. As the Crown Prince, I must accompany Father Emperor to worship Heaven and pray for the blessings of our Hua Dynasty’s people. I have covered my mouth and nose and am wearing a hat. Please be at ease, Father Emperor.”

The Emperor grunted in acknowledgment and said coolly, “Since you’re so sincere, then come along. It’s windy at the mausoleum, so keep your hat on tight and don’t catch a chill.”

The Crown Prince wept, “This son thanks Father Emperor for his care.”

As the Emperor ascended the sixteen-wheeled grand carriage with Wei Zhao’s assistance, he suddenly smiled and beckoned, “San Lang, come up.”

Several officials from the Qingliu faction immediately knelt and cried out, “Your Majesty, you must not!”

The Emperor’s face darkened as he said, “Silence.” Wei Zhao smirked triumphantly, lightly tapping the carriage shaft with his right foot, then twisting his waist, he alighted on the seat beside the Emperor like a white swallow returning to its nest. Just as he was about to open his mouth to express gratitude, Master Ye also boarded the carriage. Wei Zhao let out a light snort, his expression turning slightly cold.

As flutes and drums sounded in unison, the imperial procession slowly began to move. After the Emperor’s carriage, escorted by the mounted guards of the Light Ministry, crossed the white jade bridge, the Crown Prince finally boarded his carriage. The officials followed, and the grand procession passed through the heavily guarded streets, exited the northern gate of the capital, and headed towards the Imperial Mausoleum, located more than twenty li north of the city.

Although it hadn’t snowed that day, the wind was fierce, causing the doors of the imperial carriage to shake constantly. The Emperor sat with his eyes closed, suddenly coughing several times.

Wei Zhao quickly grasped his hand. The Emperor opened his eyes and smiled at him, but his voice betrayed a hint of weariness, “San Lang.”

“Your servant is here.”

The Emperor fell silent again for a moment, then sighed, “I’m afraid my days are numbered.”

Wei Zhao suddenly knelt, tears glimmering in his eyes, and said urgently, “Your Majesty, you must not speak like this.”

The Emperor pulled him up, making him sit beside him, but didn’t let go of his hand. His gaze fixed straight ahead as if trying to pierce through the carriage wall to the distant horizon or perhaps recalling something. After a long while, he said, “San Lang, if I were to pass, you would be my greatest concern.”

Wei Zhao lowered his head, and after a while, choked out, “Your Majesty, San Lang doesn’t want to hear such words.”

The Emperor gripped his hand tightly and said, “Listen to me. If I’m gone, those ministers will likely cause trouble for you. Zhi’er is weak-natured and won’t be able to protect you. I’m thinking of leaving an imperial edict for you, as long as you don’t commit the crime of treason, then—”

Wei Zhao fell to his knees before him with a thud, his expression resolute: “Your Majesty, San Lang has only one thing to say. If that day truly comes, San Lang will surely follow you. You once said that only San Lang is worthy to be buried in the same tomb as you. Your Majesty’s golden words, San Lang remembers them always in his heart.”

The Emperor gazed at Wei Zhao for a long time, a pleased smile gradually appearing on his face. He said softly, “Good, good.”

He spoke no more, closing his eyes. Wei Zhao also sat quietly by his side, listening to the rolling of the carriage wheels as they drew closer to the Imperial Mausoleum step by step.

Pei Yan and Prince Zhuang rode side by side behind the Crown Prince’s carriage. Prince Zhuang, extremely interested in the several battles between the Changfeng Cavalry and the Huan Army, inquired about the details, and Pei Yan answered each question. The two chatted amiably, making the journey less tedious.

After a while, the curtain of the Crown Prince’s carriage was suddenly lifted, and the gauze-hatted Crown Prince poked his head out, calling, “Second Brother.”

Prince Zhuang quickly rode over, smiling, “Elder Brother.”

“You’ve just recovered and are about to travel far to Haizhou. Elder Brother will miss you. Come up into the carriage, let’s have a good talk, brother to brother,” the Crown Prince’s voice was very sincere behind his face veil.

But Prince Zhuang, mindful that his subordinates would come at any time to relay the latest information with a secret signal, was unwilling to board the carriage. He hastily said, “Thank you, Elder Brother, but the Imperial Physician said my condition requires some fresh air, and I shouldn’t be cooped up.”

The Crown Prince’s voice held a note of disappointment: “If that’s the case, there’s nothing to be done. When I’m able to face the wind again, we’ll have a proper gathering, Second Brother.” With that, he lowered the carriage curtain.

Prince Zhuang secretly wiped away his sweat, his gaze turning towards the Emperor’s grand carriage ahead, struggling to conceal the cold glint in his eyes as he rode back to Pei Yan’s side.

Pei Yan smiled and asked, “Is Your Highness departing for Haizhou the day after tomorrow?”

Hearing the approaching hoofbeats behind him, Prince Zhuang slightly raised his voice: “Indeed. Tomorrow, I’ll invite the Young Lord for a drink, firstly to celebrate the Winter Solstice, and secondly to bid farewell.”

Pei Yan laughed, “It should be I who invites Your Highness for a farewell drink.”

Dong Fang rode up, his face stern, and said, “Prince Zhuang, today is the grand ceremony at the Imperial Mausoleum. It hasn’t been half a year since the Noble Consort was entombed. You should be wearing a mourning band.”

Prince Zhuang slapped his forehead, hurriedly turning back. An attendant rushed up, and Prince Zhuang took the mourning band and tied it on. Dong Fang snorted lightly and rode back into the ranks.

Seeing his attendant give a hand signal, Prince Zhuang knew everything was in order and relaxed. He muttered under his breath, “Stubborn old rock!” Pei Yan smiled slightly. Their eyes met, and the corners of their mouths curled up as they turned away, speaking no more.

The journey from the northern gate of the capital to the Imperial Mausoleum by Lake Mi was over ten li. The road was paved with yellow earth, all cleared three days in advance by the Imperial Guard. Knotted ropes lined the roadside, with guards posted every ten paces, making for strict security.

By the time the grand procession reached the dismounting stone at the foot of the Imperial Mausoleum, it was already late in the Chen hour (7-9 AM). The Master of Ceremonies from the Ministry of Rites had long been waiting there. Seeing the Emperor’s carriage slowly come to a stop, he called out loudly, “Let the music of Shiping begin, and welcome the Sacred Procession!”

As bells and drums sounded in unison, with flutes and zithers harmonizing in the background, the Emperor descended from the carriage, stepping on the back of a eunuch. Wei Zhao and the gray-robed masked figure followed. The Emperor gazed around, the cold wind causing his dragon robe to rustle loudly, the bright yellow ribbon under his chin fluttering vigorously by his ears.

Unmelted snow lay on the mountain peaks, glistening brilliantly under the thin winter sun. The Emperor squinted at the light snow covering the mountains, sighed lightly, but said nothing. When the Crown Prince’s carriage approached and the Crown Prince alighted, with the officials gathering around, he finally took a step forward, following the bowing Master of Ceremonies through the main Honggui Gate of the Imperial Mausoleum.

Built against the mountain, the Imperial Mausoleum was where the emperors, empresses, and noble consorts of the Hua Dynasty had been buried for over a hundred years. It had been expanded several times, resulting in a majestic and vast complex.

Amidst the ceremonial music, the Emperor walked steadily, leading the officials past the Six Extremities Stone Arch and onto the Spirit Way lined with eighteen pairs of stone statues. Midway along the Spirit Way stood three pairs of stone statues of civil and military officials. Pei Yan walked with steady steps, but couldn’t help glancing at the statues as he passed.

On the right side of the Spirit Way, a stone statue of a military official stood with sword-like eyebrows and star-bright eyes, dignified and imposing, his form straight, with a three-foot-long sword hanging at his waist. His eyes gazed straight ahead, his right hand gripping the sword hilt, as if listening to the sounds of battle on the field, ready to draw his sword and fight, to establish meritorious service for his sovereign.

Pei Yan’s gaze lingered on this statue for a moment before he continued walking with a smile.

Over a hundred years ago, the Pei clan’s ancestors had supported the Xie clan’s ascension to the throne. Perhaps, after today, it would be the descendants of the Pei clan who would reclaim what should have been theirs.

The wind swept across the Spirit Way, growing ever fiercer, causing snow to fall from the statues and making some of the civil officials unable to keep their eyes open. But Pei Yan’s eyes remained clear, fixed straight ahead on that figure in bright yellow, walking steadily forward.

In the Imperial Mausoleum, surrounded by mountains and embraced by water, pine and cypress trees lined the paths, and the water in the Imperial River had not yet frozen, flowing in gentle curves. The officials maintained solemn expressions as they followed the Emperor and Crown Prince across the Nine Dragon Bridge, through the Longming Gate, and up the stone steps of the Imperial Way.

The Master of Ceremonies stopped at the Shengde Stele Pavilion. The Emperor offered incense and paid his respects, then led everyone in kneeling. After the ceremony at the stele pavilion, the procession continued, passing through several great halls before finally entering the Gongde Gate amidst the howling wind.

The Emperor stood before the sacrificial furnace. A gust of wind caused him to cough lightly, his form swaying slightly. Wei Zhao hurried over to support him, but the Emperor forcefully pushed him away, accepting the ceremonial wine offered by the Master of Ceremonies and slowly raising his hand to pour it before the furnace.

With the ceremonies at the stele pavilion and sacrificial furnace completed, according to custom, the Emperor, along with the Crown Prince and other princes, would ascend to the top of Fang City to pay homage to the ancestors in the Spirit Hall. The Emperor was to present his handwritten policies for the coming year before the ancestral spirits, praying to the ancestors for the well-being of the people.

As the war had just concluded this year with a great victory on the frontlines, custom dictated that Pei Yan and Wei Zhao, as the commander-in-chief and imperial overseer respectively, should also accompany the Emperor to ascend Fang City. The Emperor was to report the war results to the ancestors and pray for Heaven’s protection over the Hua Dynasty so that no more wars would arise.

By now, it was nearly the Si hour (9-11 AM). The Master of Ceremonies called out in a loud voice: “Let the music of victory play! The Sacred Procession, Crown Prince, Prince Zhuang, Prince Zhongxiao, and the Imperial Overseer are invited to enter Fang City and pay homage at the Spirit Hall!”

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