His feelings toward his father emperor were, in fact, more resentment than reverence. Two years ago, when he was only fourteen, he had been enfeoffed as Prince of Yidu, commanding the position of General of the Western Garrison and Governor of Jingzhou, leaving the capital Jiankang in trepidation. It wasn’t just him – except for Crown Prince eldest brother, his second brother Liu Yizhen had been enfeoffed as Duke of Guiyang County at twelve years old, stationed in Chang’an in the Guanzhong region, and all his other brothers were also dispersed to various territories. The purpose was clear – didn’t father emperor simply not want these princes of similar age to threaten Crown Prince eldest brother’s position? Father emperor considered Crown Prince eldest brother, but who would consider them? Being sent to unfamiliar places at such young ages, the officials below appeared infinitely respectful on the surface, but in reality, those aristocratic families all looked down on these princes from humble origins, appearing compliant while being defiant underneath. That feeling was truly indescribable.
Liu Yilong had thought that only the Crown Prince could receive special treatment from father emperor. Though the eldest brother should be respected, he could swallow this bitter pill, but he never expected there would be another exception!
“Damn it! What the hell is going on?” The boy who had been standing dazed by the pool finally burst out with a roar completely mismatched to his physical frame.
Upon hearing this, Liu Yilong nearly went weak in the knees and almost immediately knelt to the ground. Because this kind of verbal habit, this tone, was exactly identical to his father emperor’s!
Though he was naturally fearful of father emperor, Liu Yilong still quickly steadied himself after his legs went weak. The reason was simple – this was clearly a young person’s voice. Besides, his father emperor had already passed away. Liu Yilong took a deep breath, trying to calm his emotions as much as possible, and politely inquired: “Who are you?”
Based on age, Liu Yilong had already determined this was his brother, so his tone carried some fraternal authority. But the boy turned around and looked at him with a strange expression for so long that Liu Yilong wondered if a flower had grown on his face.
Liu Yu really wanted to find a rock to throw at this foolish boy. Who was he? He was his father!
But Liu Yu immediately realized that even he couldn’t believe his current appearance, let alone others. If he said such a thing, the next moment he would probably be imprisoned by his own son on charges of blasphemously impersonating imperial family.
Could it be that after death, he had reverted to his fourteen-year-old body? But whose corpse was lying in the bedchamber now?
Seeing the boy’s expression change colorfully, Liu Yilong thought he was having difficulty revealing his identity, so he nodded understandingly: “Although your identity shouldn’t be made public, since we are brothers, we can support each other. At least give me something to call you.”
Liu Yu was immediately stunned upon hearing this. What had this third boy misunderstood?
But then he comprehended, his expression immediately darkening. With his previous temperament, he would have flown into a rage, but now after thinking about it, he had to reluctantly accept it while holding his nose.
Speaking of which, when the ministers crowded into the bedchamber earlier, several people had secretly glanced in his direction. At that time, having just experienced life and death, he was confused and didn’t care. Now thinking back, Liu Yu understood why no one had come to drive him out – they all thought he was his own illegitimate son!
Liu Yilong waited there with extreme patience, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on the subtle expressions on the boy’s face.
After a long while, the boy’s lips curved into a bitter smile, and he said lightly: “Jinu, just call me Liu Jinu.”
Jinu? Indeed surnamed Liu?
Liu Yilong immediately confirmed his guess, then frowned because of the boy’s name.
Actually named Jinu? A foster slave? He didn’t share the “Yi” generation character like their brothers, which meant this boy wasn’t qualified to enter the family genealogy. And such a casual name was probably due to his mother concubine’s humble status.
Liu Yilong took a deep breath. Only now did he notice that he had been away from the bedchamber for too long getting fresh air. If he delayed further, he might attract the attention of interested parties. He smiled kindly at the boy: “Perhaps you already know, I’m your third brother. In private, just call me third brother.” The subtext was that publicly he still needed to be called Third Highness.
Liu Yu’s mouth twitched. He still couldn’t bring himself to call his own son “third brother” – this was really testing his patience. So he directly grunted: “What third brother? I’ll just call you Che’er.”
Liu Yilong was startled. This childhood name Che’er was only used by father emperor, because when he was born, father emperor was campaigning in all directions, and mother concubine Consort Hu gave birth to him in a carriage. So this pet name Che’er had always followed him. Father emperor only called him this pet name when he was happy; normally when they met, like with other brothers, he would only use numerical rankings.
Opening his mouth, Liu Yilong wanted to refuse this boy’s disrespectful form of address, but then he smiled in understanding. This boy’s straightforward nature must be because father emperor hadn’t let him encounter more of the dark side. His knowing this pet name must have come from father emperor. Did this boy know that in father emperor’s heart, he, the third prince whose mother concubine had been executed, had long been cast aside?
Liu Yilong clenched his fists but ultimately didn’t voice the question that had troubled him for years. He smiled gently: “Jinu, let’s go in first to send father emperor on his final journey.”
Hearing this long-missed name called out by his own son, Liu Yu felt all kinds of awkwardness. Actually, he didn’t really want to go in – watching one’s own corpse wasn’t a comfortable experience, but he indeed couldn’t just stand here foolishly. Who knew if the next person to discover him would directly arrest him as an assassin? After all, he had no identity now.
Indifferently following Liu Yilong back into the bedchamber, this time Liu Yu had the leisure to observe everyone’s expressions. Though he had stood here for a long time before, having just experienced life and death, he had no mood to observe others. But now it was different – believing that few people could personally witness what happened after their own death, Liu Yu didn’t kneel down but instead picked a corner and looked around with great interest.
Eh? Unexpectedly, General Xie Hui, who always found fault with him, was crying so sadly? As a descendant of the Xie family, one of the two great aristocratic families (Wang and Xie) of the Eastern Jin, the young and handsome Xie Hui was a founding minister of the Southern Liu Song Dynasty. At a young age, he was Liu Yu’s primary strategist. In the late Eastern Jin period, he had followed Liu Yu in northern expeditions to recover the Central Plains – nine out of ten strategies came from him. His importance to Liu Yu was no less than Zhuge Liang to Liu Bei, helping Liu Yu recover most of the Central Plains. When Liu Yu ascended the throne, he was only in his twenties, an absolute young hero. Now governing seven provinces militarily and controlling the imperial guards alone, he could be said to hold sway over the court. Because of his suitable age, Xie Hui was the regent minister Liu Yu had chosen for Crown Prince Liu Yifu.
However, Liu Yu narrowed his eyes and didn’t miss Xie Hui taking out a handkerchief from his long sleeves to wipe his eyes – and that handkerchief clearly contained ginger slices…
Liu Yu’s mood immediately plummeted. He observed carefully and found that quite a few people were doing this. Even among several princes, some were doing the same. His youngest son, seven-year-old Liu Yiji, was being held by his mother concubine, and that woman’s hand hidden in her sleeve was discretely pinching Liu Yiji’s body, forcing him to cry out loud.
Liu Yu numbly watched all this. Even his most beloved Crown Prince Liu Yifu, to whom he had passed the throne, was only dry-crying with no trace of grief on his face. Among the remaining sons, even those who were crying were probably crying for their own uncertain fates rather than for him, their not-very-intimate father emperor.
Liu Yu smiled self-mockingly, his gaze falling on Liu Yilong kneeling in the third position. Though the latter wasn’t crying out dramatically, the grief on his face was genuine, his eyes bloodshot, without any trace of pretense. Liu Yu couldn’t help but start recalling memories of Che’er, but truly had no impression.
He had spent his life in military campaigns, walking on knife edges, naturally having little leisure time – otherwise, he couldn’t have had sons only after forty. After ascending the throne, he became even busier, sitting on the emperor’s throne for merely three years. His time spent with his sons was truly pitifully little.
It seemed like in the blink of an eye, they had grown up, developed their own thoughts, and would no longer look at him, this declining emperor, with that worshipful gaze.
Liu Yu gripped the ivory dice in his hand and murmured: “Is this the scene you wanted me to see? Is this what you wanted me to reflect on? For the sake of the kingdom, how much have I missed?”
An emperor’s funeral involved a series of very complicated ceremonies. From the thick burials of Qin and Han to the thin burial customs of the Wei and Jin periods, Liu Yu’s funeral wasn’t held on a grand scale. But it was still the funeral of a nation’s ruler after all. Some ancient rites inherited the Han system – the five mourning garments system, three years of mourning, joint funerals, etc. These numerous complex ceremonial regulations with strict mourning procedures – summoning souls, announcing death, setting up spirit seats, lighting incense lamps, preparing the body, conducting mourning, observing mourning… arranging them one by one. Though there were specialized officials in charge, it exhausted the entire court. However, since Liu Yu was already nearly sixty when he ascended the throne, burial methods, coffin systems, tomb mounds, and burial goods had been continuously prepared over the past two or three years, so there was no panic. “Careful remembrance of ancestors” was the traditional Confucian view of life and death. Though Liu Yu hadn’t read many books, many of his ministers came from aristocratic families, so the funeral was conducted meticulously. Though there wasn’t enough grief, it was sufficiently solemn and dignified.
Attending one’s own funeral was a very peculiar feeling – probably few people would have such an experience. Liu Yu wore mourning clothes, hidden in the crowd, thoughtfully watching everyone’s expressions. Of course, most of his attention was focused on his sons.
Naturally, his “identity” had already been introduced by Liu Yilong. These children of his, at most in their teens, hadn’t learned how to hide their true feelings. Except for the youngest Liu Yiji, who curiously stared at him for a long time with bright, clear eyes, the others all wore expressions of coldness, indifference, or disdain.
Well, his sons weren’t very close to him to begin with, and because of their young ages, he had sent them all to various places to be enfeoffed as princes. The brothers hadn’t seen each other for a long time and couldn’t be said to have any feelings for each other – at most they were nodding acquaintances. Liu Yu suddenly felt somewhat cold-hearted. Scenes like a family gathering around a round table for a reunion dinner – how many years ago were those old memories? Ten years? Twenty years? Or thirty years?
After numbly attending his own funeral and equally expressionlessly watching his eldest son Liu Yifu ascend to the throne, Liu Yu temporarily resided in Liu Yilong’s royal residence in the capital Jiankang, spending his days drinking tea and viewing scenery.
Because Liu Yu practiced frugality, Liu Yilong’s residence had no luxurious decorations, but this place had originally been the mansion of an aristocratic family from the Wei and Jin periods, so it was secluded and elegant with its own unique charm.
Liu Yu leisurely sat in the pavilion, hanging over the railing without any regard for his image, staring at the water rippled by wind, somewhat idle and lazy.
He was like a spinning wheel that had been turning continuously for decades and could finally stop to rest. So despite having a young body, his state of mind had suddenly aged.