Chapter 195

In the dark, damp imperial prison, Huo Guang's hands were bound by heavy shackles, half-leaning against the cold wall.

Days of interrogation and torture have made his face gaunt, yet his eyes still show resolve.

When the jailer hurried over and told him the news that Empress Wei Zifu and Princess Xijun had spoken up for him in court, Huo Guang's originally dim eyes instantly brightened, his eye sockets quickly reddened, and tears spilled uncontrollably.

His lips trembled as he murmured, "Empress Dowager and Princess, to be so righteous, in this courtly turmoil, to argue for me, one deep in unjust imprisonment..."

His voice choked with excitement, his heart filled with emotion and gratitude.

Recalling how he had exhausted himself for the Han, yet now framed by villains, he had already been despairing, but now, thanks to these two nobles' help, hope for life reignited.

Not long after, the jailer brought Liu Ju's verdict: the death penalty was changed to exile.

Upon hearing it, Huo Guang first stared, then slowly knelt, bowing his head heavily several times toward the palace, his forehead striking the cold ground with a dull thud.

"Your Majesty's grace, though I am wronged, I am also moved to tears."

His mind raced with thoughts; though exile is harsh, it also gave him a chance to live, perhaps someday he could clear his name and serve the Han again.

And the Son of Heaven, making such a decision amid the complex court situation, must have had many considerations.

Huo Guang slowly rose, despair gone from his eyes, replaced by resolve and unyieldingness.

A flame ignited in Huo Guang's heart.

Within the Holy Palace first built in Mojietuo State, pearls and brilliance, glazed tiles shining.

Emperor Wu of Han Liuche was bent over examining the military map of the western campaign, his brows furrowed, contemplating the next strategic deployment.

At that moment, a messenger hurried in, knelt on one knee, and presented a sealed letter.

Liuche took the letter, unfolded and read it; his previously resolute expression instantly changed.

"Wei Qing and Zhang Qian actually asked to resign, and Your Majesty even agreed?"

Liuche's voice low and shocked, breaking the silence in the tent. He slammed the letter onto the table, his eyes full of disbelief and anger.

"What exactly has happened in the court?"

He muttered to himself, pacing back and forth, his steps hurried and heavy.

Wei Qing, this capable general who had followed him for years, had cleared the Xiongnu threat for the Han, his merits great; he was the minister most relied upon.

Zhang Qian, relying on extraordinary courage and wisdom, opened the Silk Road, expanding the Han's territory and influence.

Now these two senior ministers actually resigned one after another; Liuche felt both regret and worry.

At the same time, he was also full of worry about the current state of the Han court.

"It must be that treacherous ministers are causing mischief in the court, bewildering the Son of Heaven."

Liuche stopped, a flash of cold light in his eyes; he knew Wei Qing and Zhang Qian would not give up lightly—there must be hidden circumstances behind this.

"I am far away in Mojietuo State, yet court affairs have spiraled out of control like this."

Emperor Wu of Han was worried and anxious.

Then Dong Zhongshu bowed and spoke solemnly: "Your Majesty, the chaos in the court stems from treacherous ministers holding power. The likes of Chen Wenjin and Li Xiangtian form factions for personal gain, deceive the emperor's ears, causing loyal officials to feel chilled. General Wei Qing and Mister Zhang Qian, who have earned great merits for the Han, yet suffer this marginalization—truly the Han's misfortune."

Dong Zhongshu's words were fierce, his eyes full of contempt for Chen Wenjin and the like.

Li Guang clasped his fists and shouted: "Your Majesty, Wei Qing and I have fought side by side for years, risking life and limb, earning meritorious service on the Han frontiers; Zhang Qian opened the Silk Road, spreading the Han's fame afar. These Chen Wenjin and Li Xiangtian only know how to scheme in court, harming the loyal. They are nothing but court termites, the nation's scum! If not for their meddling, how could the court be so chaotic, and loyal men be forced to leave?"

Li Guang's face full of anger, his clenched fists whitening at the knuckles, his fury toward Chen Wenjin and Li Xiangtian evident.

Huo Qubing knelt on one knee and shouted: "Your Majesty, General Wei Qing is my uncle and the role model I have followed all my life; he cleared the Xiongnu threat for the Han, his merits great, yet now forced out by treacherous ministers; Mister Zhang Qian, who opened the Silk Road with achievements lasting through the ages, also had no choice but to resign."

And thinking of his brother Huo Guang's exile, Huo Qubing lamented: "Your Majesty, Huo Guang wholly devoted himself to the Han, diligent and without a trace of disloyalty. He is young and talented—just the time to serve the Han—how could he be exiled! It must be Chen Wenjin and Li Xiangtian scheming behind the scenes, framing him. Your Majesty, you must uphold justice for Huo Guang!"

Huo Qubing's eye sockets reddened; the usually fearless warrior on the battlefield was now anxious as fire for his brother's fate.

Liuche and the others also sighed incessantly.

Huo Qubing continued: "My clever younger brother, who has always taken me as his example, striving to achieve merit for the Han. He is full of fervor, yet these treacherous villains have made him suffer so miserably."

Liuche's face grew ever uglier; he slammed the table and shouted angrily, "I will never let these treacherous officials succeed! I will thoroughly investigate this matter, restore clarity to the court, and grant justice to all my loyal subjects!"

"Someone, send a divorce letter to Chang'an!"

Liuche's expression fluctuated between dark and bright.

At this moment, Huo Guang, who had already set out on the road to exile, found it was the seventh month; the hot, humid air instantly wrapped him, as if he were inside a giant steamer.

Thick miasma permeated the surroundings, a gray haze; everywhere the eye reached was distorted by this eerie fog, making it impossible to discern direction.

Huo Guang was locked inside a cramped prison cart; its wooden planks, rotted from years in this damp environment, were splintered, sharp and rough.

The prison cart jolted along; Huo Guang's body repeatedly struck the inner walls, his clothes already torn, strips of wounds exposed, and because of the miasma's corrosion they turned red, swollen and ulcerated, exuding a foul stench that drew clouds of mosquitoes to bite him.

His face and arms were covered in dense red bumps; he scratched them until the skin split and bled, yet he could hardly ease the maddening itch.

The blazing sun hung high; sunlight piercing the miasma shed light that carried a sticky heat.

Huo Guang's lips were chapped, his tongue coated thick, his throat parched as if about to burn. He strained to move his body bound tight by ropes, his gaze turning to the old waterskin nearby, which, because of the dampness, had also grown green mold.

He tried to move closer, but the escorting officials, their faces full of contempt, cracked their whip in the air with a sharp 'pop', warning him not to stir.

The officials wore simple masks; even so, they could not evade this miasmic place, and felt no pity for Huo Guang at all.

The prison cart crept along the mire‑filled road; every jolt felt like a heavy hammer striking Huo Guang's wound‑riddled body.

He groaned in pain, his voice sounding especially weak in the quiet, oppressive miasma.

Long hours of curling up left his legs numb and swollen, as if they no longer belonged to him, yet he could not stretch them, only silently endure the piercing pain.

The prison cart crept along the mire‑filled road; every jolt felt like a heavy hammer striking Huo Guang's wound‑riddled body. He groaned in pain, his voice sounding especially weak in the quiet, oppressive miasma. Long hours of curling up left his legs numb and swollen, as if they no longer belonged to him, yet he could not stretch them, only silently endure the piercing pain.

Huo Guang's chapped lips opened and closed slightly as he managed to squeeze out a few words:

"Water… give me water…"

His voice was hoarse, nearly broken.

Hearing this, the escorting officials felt no sympathy, only disgust; one of them, a thick‑faced brute, stepped forward, seized Huo Guang's hair, jerked his head up, and snarled:

"You, a convict, still want water? Dream on!"

Having said that, he grabbed a nearby stick and gave Huo Guang's back a fierce thrashing.

Huo Guang winced from the pain, his body instinctively curling up, but with nowhere to dodge he could only let the wooden stick strike him repeatedly, producing a dull thud.

He gritted his teeth, enduring the pain, as large beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and mixed with the rain.

Just as Huo Guang was about to succumb to despair, a sudden rush of hoofbeats came from afar.

Zhang Tang, dressed in official robes, rode a swift horse with a troop of soldiers trailing behind, coming like a gust of wind.

"Stop!"

Zhang Tang shouted loudly.

The two bailiffs were startled by the sudden shout, almost dropping the wooden sticks in their hands; after seeing that the comer was Zhang Tang, they felt a bit fearful but still harbored a slim hope, and one of them plucked up courage to say:

"Sir Zhang, this is an order from above; we are merely carrying out orders."

Zhang Tang snorted coldly, dismounted, walked a few steps to the prison cart, his sharp gaze sweeping over the two bailiffs, and said: "Carrying out orders? You mistreat a court official like this—do you know what crime that is?"

As he spoke, he produced a token, which snapped open before them with a crack, declaring: "I act under the emperor's secret edict to investigate this matter; if you dare to obstruct further, you will be defying imperial orders!"

Seeing this, the two bailiffs' faces turned deathly pale in an instant; they fell to their knees with a thud, begging for mercy repeatedly.

At that moment, Huo Guang slowly opened his eyes, saw Zhang Tang, and a flicker of disbelief crossed his gaze.

He wondered aloud: "Sir Zhang, you aren't—"

Zhang Tang firmly gripped Huo Guang's hand and gave a slight nod.