Chapter 172: The Emperor Falls, Heaven Tilts (Requesting Monthly Passes or 2)

The ninth day of the ninth month, in the eighth year of Jingning.

On this day of double nine, when sun and moon share the yang, the year's peak yang energy, the capital of Luoyang was shrouded in gloom as a torrential rainstorm broke.

Three thousand palace halls were enveloped in mist and rain; the entire city fell silent, and thousands of palace attendants wore expressions of deep mourning.

Outside the Zichen Hall, several imperial physicians, palace attendants, and renowned Daoist and Buddhist masters waited to be summoned, while Cao Fo'er stood at the door holding a fly-whisk.

The Monk Wuxin, clad in a kasaya, leaned on his meditation staff, turning prayer beads, standing silently in the rain, chanting Buddhist mantras.

Behind them stood masters from various schools, even including a Zhou Dynasty shaman, all summoned to treat the Great Qian Emperor, whose life force was nearly extinguished.

But while illness and injury are easy to cure, one's lifespan is hard to heal.

None of them are gods or Buddhas; without committing acts that defy the Dao and overturn ethics, how could they perform the feat of reviving the dead and extending life?

Lu Wu Zhen, draped in a black-and-white Daoist robe, his face still appearing middle-aged, showed for the first time the weariness and helplessness of a centenarian.

The masters present did not know the inner secrets of the Qian Emperor, but he, the Jianzheng responsible for suppressing the Great Qian's demons and evil spirits, knew very well.

Twenty years ago, the Qian Emperor's body could no longer complete a full cycle; it was the He Guozhang who sustained his life to the present by plundering the lifespans of others.

After the He family's scandal broke, there must still be stockpiles of Yuan Dan pills within the palace.

Yet from the time of the scandal to the point of near death, less than half a month passed, indicating the Qian Emperor had not consumed a single life-extending pill.

As an emperor, being able to suppress the desire for survival at the brink of death and do what must be done would count him as a benevolent ruler among emperors of all ages.

But such an emperor fell while under his own protection, with his wife and close relatives nearly all dead.

Lu Wu Zhen knew the Qian Emperor had done nothing wrong; the fault lay entirely with him.

Had he uncovered the problem twenty years ago, the Qian Emperor would have placed his younger brother on the throne, and no subsequent chaos would have occurred; this was also the responsibility he ought to have fulfilled.

He had once thought, "Take the Dao as truth," believing the Danding Sect alone could ensure the Great Qian's favorable weather and smooth seasons.

But now it seemed he was wrong; Ye Sheng gave him the name "Wuzhen," perhaps seeing through his nature when he was just over ten years old, using the name to constantly remind him:

"Remember why we cultivators cultivate; do not let a single leaf of worldly ambition blind you."

Lu Wu Zhen stood in the wind and rain, silent for a long time, then looked at the bald monk beside him:

"The position of Jianzheng is hard to hold; two people mutually supervising each other might indeed be more beneficial to the common people."

The Monk Wuxin, with white beard and white eyebrows, far less ethereal than Lu Wu Zhen, stopped turning his prayer beads upon hearing this and said gravely:

"Wuzhen, your Dao heart has shattered."

Lu Wu Zhen had single-handedly held back the hundred schools of the Great Qian, proud all his life, yet the ruler he protected was, right before his eyes, brutally torn apart until his family and nation were destroyed; if he could still act as he pleased, that would not be called a Dao heart as iron, but stubbornness to the point of folly.

"Breaking to rebuild, I may have 'awakened.' I tell you this only because I do not wish for conflict between Dao and Buddhism to bring disaster upon the state; can you let it go?"

The Monk Wuxin looked at the palace ahead, his tone calm:

"Build three hundred new meditation halls in the Central Plains, bring old Master Sikong back to the Great Qian, and let the barbarian Wei enter the Central Plains; then I will believe you have awakened. With the four of us joining hands, what demon or evil spirit would dare cause trouble in the Great Qian?"

Lu Wu Zhen shook his head: "Your idea is unrealistic. This is but a small plot of land under our feet; if I take one more bite, you must take one less; if a hundred schools coexist, no one will have enough to eat, and the result will only be internal strife."

The Monk Wuxin sighed lightly:

"Better than you and I being full while a hundred schools starve to death."

The two fell silent once more.

After all, this world is a arena of deceit; there are many wolves but little meat; while the Zhang Sect masters can see through everything and let it go, they cannot abandon sectarian interests.

Even if Lu Wu Zhen attained sudden enlightenment and yielded the Danding Sect's interests, the result would not be harmony among a hundred schools, but the Danding Sect's various clans electing a new Zhang Sect and forcing him to return to the mountain to retire.

This was no different from the Great Qian Emperor, in times of national prosperity and wealth, ceding several provinces to the Northern Zhou, Western Rong, and Lingnan in exchange for peaceful coexistence.

If the common people and ministers could allow such a madman to remain emperor for even one more second, that would be disrespect to the very words "Emperor."

And while the Dao and Buddhism of the Great Qian steered the ship, still struggling openly and secretly for their respective interests, within the sleeping quarters.

The Qian Emperor lay on his sickbed, his face unnaturally pale, no longer bearing his former majestic bearing, merely an old man nearing the end of his days.

In his final moments, the Qian Emperor's wrinkled hand gripped his wife's right hand, his breath faint as he spoke:

"I have wronged you. In truth, it was my own youthful passion back then, my ambition for this throne, that led to today's situation.

"Had I been incompetent, your father would never have entertained thoughts of supporting the dragon's rise; had I been capable, I should have foreseen the second son's move before he acted.

"But I was precisely talented yet not enough; I walked on thin ice for twenty years, yet could not secure stability, causing us husband and wife to end up in this plight. I have no choice..."

Empress He had already removed her phoenix crown; her appearance was that of a plain palace maid, her face aged ten years, yet her eyes held no hatred or sorrow, only a gentle smile of comfort:

"Poverty and hardship bring sorrow to all matters of a couple; Your Majesty has done your best. The disaster brewed by my He family should not make Your Majesty blame or regret yourself."

"Hehe..."

The Qian Emperor's gaze grew vacant, his laughter like a hoarse exhale, his eyes turning toward the dark window:

"My life has reached its end. Though my sins are deep, the Great Qian under my hand has reached the peak of a prosperous age.

"Now I ask for nothing else, only that Heaven allows the common people of the world another thirty years of peace, and that they do not fall into Zhao Jinghuan's hands.

"When the people rise, they suffer; when they fall, they suffer; but when the world falls, even more people will suffer. Heaven does not protect my Zhao clan, but it should at least show compassion to the hundreds of millions of subjects.

"Alas, Heaven does not care..."

His voice grew fainter and fainter, his pupils gradually dilating.

Empress He's eyes turned red; she rose and lay down beside him, leaning against his shoulder, speaking softly:

"Heaven does not care for you, but I do.

"Let the future generations worry about the affairs of the future; wherever you go, I will follow, just as when you were once an Imperial Prince."

"Hah~..."

The Qian Emperor's eyes moved slightly, then slowly closed; with his last strength, he patted his wife's shoulder...

On the day of double nine, the peak of yang, Heaven wept tears.

The Emperor perished; Empress He drank poison and slept forever beside the bed.

The three thousand bell tolls announcing the Emperor's passing rang out from the Bell and Drum Tower.

Heavy rain poured down over Luojing; countless commoners fell silent, and scarcely any noise of bustle could be heard between the streets and alleys.

Cao Fo'er proclaimed the late Emperor's testament: Crown Prince Zhao Jinghuan would assume regency immediately, observe mourning for twenty-seven days, and then perform the coronation rites.

Couriers bearing the edict rode swift horses away from the capital, racing along the imperial post roads at eight hundred li per day to deliver the news to the imperial clan princes and the prefectures, departments, and counties.

The Prince of Dan, far away in Danzhou, heard the news and wailed in tears, while his Wang Fei wept for him.

In Jingcheng, Zhao Ling and Zhao De likewise reined in their playfulness, changed into mourning clothes, and fell silent.

Night fell.

After finishing his duties, Crown Prince Zhao Jinghuan returned to the study; the wisdom and sharpness of his brow were gone, replaced by a distracted, absent-minded look.

In just half a month, parents, grandfather, cousins, and other closest relatives had all met violent deaths!

Even as he was about to ascend the throne, how could he muster even a shred of joy?

Zhao Jinghuan sat behind the desk; before him lay the memorials submitted recently. Having long handled memorials with blue ink in the Eastern Palace, and now acting as regent, these matters were not unfamiliar to him.

Yet at this moment, he could not calm his mind.

Cao Fo'er had grown up with the late Emperor and was more grief-stricken than anyone, yet she still fulfilled her duties.

Seeing the Crown Prince lost in thought, Cao Fo'er took a small wooden box and placed it on the desk:

"Your Highness, please accept your sorrow. This was left for Your Highness by Her Majesty the Empress; Your Highness may take a look."

Zhao Jinghuan's gaze shifted; he opened the small wooden box to reveal wooden carved tigers, whistles, cricket cages, and other toys inside.

He remembered all these things; in his childhood, he had been fond of play, and his father had taken them away, never to be seen again. Inside the box was also a letter.

Opening the letter paper, he saw dense lines of handwriting, all in the familiar, delicate script he knew so well:

Jinghuan, when you see this letter, Mother is already gone...

Do not mourn the spring or lament the autumn; in this world, new always replaces old. It is merely a matter of a few days sooner or later. Mother is very happy to go with your father...

Your father was strict because you are the future Emperor. He has only you as a son; he had no choice. He scolded you openly, but secretly worried even more than Mother...

Your father took these things, but Mother kept them for you in secret, intending to return them when you grew up and understood. But now that you have truly grown up and understood, they are no longer fit to be shown...

That Purple Thunder Sparrow, Mother originally wanted to keep as well, but your father said you loved it too much and it could not be kept, so it had to be sent away. Do not blame Mother...

Do not hate your father for being heartless. Mother knows his nature; he respects your grandfather more than anyone, but he had no choice...

Your father laid a good foundation for you; it was Mother who failed to manage the family well, dragging you and your father down...

In the future, be a good Emperor. Mother knows you can do very well, but do not overwork yourself. Mother wants you to be safe and sound for your entire life...

The letter was long and plain, yet between every line and character lay nothing but reluctance and concern.

Zhao Jinghuan held the letter paper; his eyes gradually turned red, and even his breathing trembled slightly.

Cao Fo'er sighed softly:

"Actually, during the Jian'an Uprising, the main reason Your Majesty was able to fight his way back into the palace city was that the Empress was pregnant.

"Your Majesty was about to become a father; he did not want his wife and children to flee for their lives across the wilderness, and he wanted to lay a good foundation for his children, so he risked everything with a lone courage and made a desperate gamble..."

Hearing the words of comfort, Zhao Jinghuan took a deep breath. His distracted expression gradually receded, restoring his former gentle and jade-like demeanor. He carefully folded the letter and put it back into the wooden box:

"I understand. I would like a moment of quiet."

Cao Fo'er said no more; after nodding, she silently withdrew from the hall.

Zhao Jinghuan stood up, held the wooden box, placed it into the standing cabinet in the bedroom, and then came to the study window.

"Chirp... chirp..."

A large birdcage sat by the window, containing a small bird with a body of purple and green, standing on a small branch and gazing out at the rain curtain.

Hearing footsteps, the Purple Thunder Sparrow chirped and chattered in a bid to please, even spreading its wings to reveal tiny sparks of electricity like strands of hair on its feathers.

Zhao Jinghuan looked at the small bird left by his father; his eyes turned red again. After hesitating for a long time, he opened the birdcage, held the small bird on his fingers, and extended it toward the window:

"Go. You belong to heaven and earth; I belong here."

"Chirp... chirp..."

The Purple Thunder Sparrow hovered outside the window, flapping its wings. Raised in captivity since childhood, its eyes were full of confusion and helplessness at being driven from its home.

Watching the small bird spread its wings and fly, Zhao Jinghuan raised his hand and waved:

"I have a father and a mother. From now on, I only wish to be a wise ruler; I cannot let my love for playthings destroy my ambition."

The Purple Thunder Sparrow hovered outside the window for a long time; after being driven away several times, it finally turned and flew into the rain curtain.

Zhao Jinghuan watched from the window. After a moment of silence, a strange, ferocious glint flashed deep within the pupils of those tear-red eyes, then instantly returned to normal...

——

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The endings of the previous two chapters were slightly modified. Those who haven't read them, feel free to flip back, or2.

Twelve thousand words; the leave I took yesterday has been made up, or2!

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(End of this chapter)