Chapter 1951: An Old Man Loses His Son

Emperor Liu's fall into the water was truly alarming—whether it was Liu Yang or Yan Tuo, both watched his condition closely and reacted swiftly. Liu Yang moved with quick eyes and nimble hands, while Yan Tuo leaped into the water in one bound, straining to support him...

Several nearby palace eunuchs, regardless of whether they could swim, jumped in one after another. As it turned out, the old Emperor barely even choked on a single mouthful of water, but two young eunuchs nearly drowned had the guards not rescued them in time.

Emperor Liu's body was largely unharmed, but he was clearly shaken—yet this also snapped him out of the grief over the death of the Eleventh Prince, Duke of Liang, Liu Xiao. Water droplets slid down his face, and his hair was soaking wet, but Emperor Liu paid none of this any mind. Looking at Liu Yang, whose face was tense with concern, he opened his mouth and said in a hoarse voice: "I am fine!"

With that, Emperor Liu slowly closed his eyes, leaning against Yan Tuo on the other side, and said in a daze: "Return to the palace!"

Those two short sentences seemed to have drained all of Emperor Liu's strength. Seeing this, Liu Yang wiped his face with one hand and ordered those around him: "Quick, escort the imperial carriage back to the palace!"

"Yes!"

A flurry of frantic activity ensued as the guards and eunuchs worked together, carefully supporting Emperor Liu toward the imperial carriage.

"Be gentle, all of you—if you harm the imperial person, you'll answer for it!" Yan Tuo kept his eyes fixed on Emperor Liu from the side, but watching these "fools" fumble about clumsily, he was furious, nearly shouting himself hoarse, wishing he could take their place.

The guards and eunuchs, in turn, became even more cautious—at this moment, it was as if what they held in their hands was not an old piece of porcelain, but a precious and fragile one...

Hurriedly returning to the palace, there was naturally another commotion. Emperor Liu falling into the water was clearly a major political event—to put it seriously, it could even affect the future of the court. The imperial person being unwell drew far more attention than even the cause of the incident—the death of the Eleventh Prince, Liu Xiao.

By the time the imperial physicians arrived at Chuigong Hall, the news had already grown wings, flying over the palace walls to the outer court and to the mansions of the powerful in the Western Capital. Rumors ran rampant—some said Emperor Liu had fainted, some even said he had vomited blood—yet oddly, the news that he was largely unharmed was believed by few...

After all, first suffering the grief of losing a son, then the ordeal of falling into the water—how could he possibly be fine? This was no longer the old days; the Emperor was ultimately old now, how could he withstand such trials?

Of course, the ignorant fear nothing, and while the upper echelons of the powerful remained cautious, their covert attention was intense, their nerves stretched taut as if facing a war.

Such a great commotion, such exaggerated reactions—it wasn't that the elites of the Great Han were making a fuss over nothing, but rather that Emperor Liu's influence was simply too great, and over the past two years, his health had repeatedly shown problems, truly causing concern.

And at its root, this was a sign that his ministers' trust in Emperor Liu was beginning to wane—even if only regarding his health—and the decline of imperial authority often began precisely from such a point.

Emperor Liu had already sensed this when he fell last year. For a man who clung to power to the very marrow of his bones, this made him furious and terrified. Thus, to consolidate his authority, he had to adopt certain measures and means, and his choices were no different in essence from those of other aging wise rulers.

Sometimes stirring up trouble, sometimes thirsting for blood—it wasn't that he intended such things; perhaps he merely wanted to test how much authority he still held, simply wanting to consolidate his absolute power where his word was law. "Old and not dead, a thief indeed"—that was the most truthful portrayal of Emperor Liu at present...

Inside Chuigong Hall, Emperor Liu had changed into dry clothes, his hair dried and wrapped in a towel. He lay quietly on the couch while two palace maids fanned him, and the old imperial physician, sweating profusely, felt his pulse.

The two imperial physicians, using the four diagnostic methods, each spent two quarters of an hour, then cross-examined each other's findings before cautiously reaching a conclusion. They spoke in vague, roundabout terms, indicating that the imperial person was largely unharmed and only needed some tonic medicine and rest. Of course, the Emperor must not be subjected to further shocks, and His Majesty must not become agitated...

The same old platitudes! As for medical advice, Emperor Liu had always listened only when he felt like it—and at this moment, he didn't particularly feel like it.

The physicians withdrew, and the atmosphere shifted from solemn to oppressive. Emperor Liu closed his eyes and said: "Speak. How did Liu Xiao die?"

"Your Majesty, you should prioritize the care of your imperial person first!" Liu Yang said, his face showing hesitation as he urged.

"Speak!" Emperor Liu suppressed his anger as best he could, saying coldly: "A son has died, and a father isn't allowed to know how?"

Seeing this, Liu Yang had no choice but to turn his head toward Zhao Pu beside him. Seeing the old man give a slight nod, he finally sighed and spoke in a sorrowful tone: "According to Guo Liangping's report, shortly after the Eleventh Brother boarded the ship at Jiaozhou Port, he began to feel unwell. When they rendezvoused at Guangzhou, Guo Liangping and Liu Chun urged him to stay behind and recuperate, to head south only after his health recovered. The Eleventh Brother refused and stubbornly continued south with the army.

Nine days after setting sail from Guangzhou, the Eleventh Brother's condition deteriorated day by day until he could no longer rise. Guo Liangping intended to send a ship to bring him back, but a sudden acute illness struck—a malignant sore grew on his back, and he vomited blood and died..."

As Liu Yang reported, Emperor Liu's eyes slowly opened, and a trace of tears seeped from the corners. Though he wasn't weeping profusely, the pain of losing a son was written plainly on his face.

"Where is Liu Xiao?"

"According to Liu Chun's report, men have already been sent to escort the funeral ship back to the capital!" Liu Yang said. After a moment's thought, he continued: "Regarding the Eleventh Brother's death, Liu Chun and Army Supervisor An Jichang (eldest son of An Shouzhong) have also each sent reports, and their accounts are essentially consistent."

Two others were also present in the hall—Wang Ji'en and Wang Xuanzhen. These two had entered the palace the moment they received the news, both out of concern for Emperor Liu and to be at his beck and call. From their experience, at times like this, Emperor Liu always had use for them... And among the ministers both inside and outside the court, these two were probably among the few who genuinely wished Emperor Liu a long life.

Listening to Liu Yang's report, a slight flicker of something crossed Wang Xuanzhen's face. He had received this news as well—he had secretly planted agents of the Wude Office within the southern expeditionary army, and under the tide of expansion, the Wude Office had begun reaching out overseas...

However, this matter had not yet been reported up. He hadn't expected that the first report he received would not be about the management of the South Seas, but about the death of a prince. The report Wang Xuanzhen received arrived somewhat later than the court's six-hundred-li urgent official dispatch, but the results were not much different. Of course, the likelihood that Guo Liangping and the others would dare to deceive the court over Liu Xiao's death was very small.

"He wasn't even thirty years old!" Emperor Liu lamented after a brief silence.

"I beg Your Majesty to restrain your grief!" Zhao Pu finally spoke.

To this, Emperor Liu didn't retort with a "It's not your son who died." He looked at the decrepit Zhao Pu, whose old face showed not only sorrow but also an unshakeable self-reproach: "How could I have agreed to let him go? Even a man in his prime might not withstand the onslaught of wind and waves, miasma and poisonous insects—let alone Liu Xiao? His constitution has always been weak..."

Muttering to himself, he suddenly asked: "Does the Worthy Consort know of this?"

"She has surely learned of it by now! Your son has already sent the Eighth Brother and the Sixth Sister to attend to her!" Liu Yang said in a low voice.

"How am I to explain this to her..." Emperor Liu said with reddened eyes and a despondent air.

"Your Majesty, there is also a joint memorial from Guo, Liu, and An, requesting that the court punish them!" Liu Yang raised another matter.

Emperor Liu fell silent. He raised his hand, but in the end only waved it lightly, not venting his anger on them, and said: "Send back a reply—no fault. Let them be at ease!"

"Additionally, Guo Liangping requests instructions: should the campaigns against Srivijaya and Java continue?"

Hearing this, Emperor Liu turned his head, a somewhat suspicious gaze falling upon Liu Yang. After a long moment, he said: "Continue! Tell Guo Liangping—the death of a prince, I can forgive his fault, but if the South Seas campaign is not completed, there will be no leniency!"

"Yes!" Liu Yang said in a low voice, silently sighing to himself. Clearly, although Emperor Liu was grieved, remorseful, and guilt-ridden over Liu Xiao's death, his determination to expand overseas and enfeoff states in the South Seas remained unshaken. Everyone in the world could see that even bearing the cost of a prince's death could not change his resolve—from now on, using the high casualty rate of sea voyages to dissuade him would be even more impossible.

"Zhang Dejun and Wang Xuanzhen, stay. Everyone else, withdraw!" Emperor Liu waved his hand.

His Majesty had called him by his old name again. Wang Ji'en felt a twinge of emotion but dared not correct him, only standing respectfully with Wang Xuanzhen.

Looking at the two men, Emperor Liu said in a cold, sinister tone: "As for Liu Xiao's death, you two offices—investigate it thoroughly for me!"

"Yes!" The two answered instinctively.

But Wang Xuanzhen's face showed hesitation, which the unusually sensitive Emperor Liu caught, and he asked: "Why do you show a strange expression?"

Wang Xuanzhen's heart panicked, but after his mind raced, he clasped his hands and said: "To answer Your Majesty, your subject has also planted subordinate agents within the southern army. Barring any accident, news of the Duke of Liang's death, though not as fast as the official dispatch, should have arrived!"

Wang Xuanzhen didn't dare say he had already received the report—otherwise, why hadn't he mentioned it earlier?

Emperor Liu was somewhat surprised. He stared deeply at Wang Xuanzhen for a moment and said in a low, mysterious tone: "Compared to your uncle, you are far more capable!"

"Your subject does not presume!" Wang Xuanzhen immediately responded, cold sweat beading on his forehead: "Your subject was merely following Your Majesty's resolute will to expand, making some arrangements of his own—even overseas, the Wude Office should have its people serving Your Majesty. It's just that this matter has yet to yield results, so your subject had not previously reported it!"

As he spoke, Wang Xuanzhen was secretly thinking to himself that once he returned to his office, he would need to clean up all the loose ends of this matter—if he were to be punished for some inexplicable charge of deception, that would be truly unjust...

Emperor Liu swept his gaze over the two men, slowly turned his back, and said indifferently: "Go do what you ought to do!"