FYM - 4

Outside Luoyang, the city of Bianzhou was also battered by fierce winds and heavy snow.

From here, one could travel westward through Zhongmu, Zhengzhou, Xingyang, Gongyi, Yanshi, and finally reach Luoyang—a journey of four hundred li along the ancient Bianluo Road. A swift march could cover this distance in two days. Along the way lay the natural stronghold of Sishui Pass, flanked by the Song Mountains to the south and the Yellow River to the north. Truly, it was a place where “one man guarding the pass could hold off ten thousand.”

Below the pass, a massive army had gathered. At its head sat a man clad in armor atop his horse, his scholarly air partially concealed by the military attire. He called out loudly to the general stationed above: “I am Song Cheng, Governor of Chuzhou, acting under the Empress’s decree to rescue the court. Open the gates immediately—there must be no delay!”

This was Song Dan’s younger brother, Song Cheng, and the Empress Dowager Song Shuyan’s uncle. Behind him stood several governors from regions across Jiangnan, their numbers impressive.

Yet the guard atop the pass remained unmoved, countering sharply: “All is well in the Eastern Capital. On what grounds do you march? Traitors are enemies of all under heaven—Governor, I urge you not to make a grave mistake that will haunt you for eternity!”

With that, two rows of archers appeared on the ramparts, their arrows tipped with an ominous glint, ready to pierce any throat at a moment’s notice.

Song Cheng frowned deeply as he gazed up at the imposing Sishui Pass. Beside him, the Governor of Bozhou leaned in and whispered, “Shují, it seems we’ve arrived too late.”

Multiple key routes leading from Jiangnan to the Eastern Capital had already been sealed off. It was clear Wei Bi and Fan Yucheng had anticipated that the Song clan would not sit idly by while they manipulated the young emperor, so they had acted preemptively to block southern reinforcements from reaching Luoyang. The Song family, though illustrious and influential, was not known for its martial prowess. Despite their prominence, they wielded little military power. Song Cheng, as governor of a single province, commanded only a few thousand troops. Even after rallying several regional forces—including enlisting the help of姻亲 Wan Shi—they barely managed to assemble twenty thousand men. Breaking through Sishui Pass was already beyond their capabilities; how could they possibly advance directly into the Eastern Capital?

“So what do you suggest we do?”

Before Song Cheng could respond, Wan Chong, the Governor of Xuzhou beside him, exploded with anger.

“That scoundrel Wei Bi has locked down the palace gates and taken the officials hostage! If we don’t act soon, he’ll completely overturn the heavens! I say he and that Fan Yucheng together are far worse than even Wei Zheng or Zhong He! The nation will be ruined because of them!”

The surrounding group chimed in with their agreement. Beneath the shadow of Sishui Pass, the tension thickened like storm clouds gathering. Song Cheng, increasingly agitated, turned quickly to look at a young man behind him. “Zijian, has Ziqiu sent any word?”

The young man’s expression was equally grim, his eyes fixed intently on the pass with unmistakable anxiety and urgency. He shook his head. “The situation in Xizhou is dire. Ziqiu is likely still tied up assisting Lord Hou.”

“Did he reply? What did Lord Hou say? Will he return to save Luoyang?”

“Zhong He himself is leading the Longyou forces in a joint attack with Wei Zheng against Hezhong Prefecture. Yan Prefecture has fallen, leaving the court with no retreat. If they withdraw now…”

“And what of Luoyang? Shall we leave it to Wei Bi and Fan Yucheng to run amok?”

“They should both be pushed to the frontlines to see if these northern capitals can still be defended!”

“But if Lord Hou does not return to court… then…”

The clamor of their discussions filled the air. Song Cheng’s frustration mounted visibly as he once again looked up at the towering Sishui Pass. His eyes revealed an unmistakable resolve, a determination akin to burning bridges behind him.

Swish—

Swords were drawn, their cold gleam reflecting in the howling wind. Across the vast, desolate land, countless lives were destined to wither and perish in this bleak winter.

“There’s no time left—”

Song Cheng’s voice was icy and resolute.

“Our clan bears the responsibility of safeguarding the nation during this critical transition. If we retreat today, how can we face the world tomorrow?”

“The Wei dynasty’s throne, the Song clan’s empress dowager… all rest upon our shoulders to defend!”

“Charge—!”

________________________________________

Here, the drums thundered and banners fluttered wildly. Four hundred li away, Luoyang remained eerily silent, as though frozen in ice.

It had been three days since the late emperor’s passing. The rituals for summoning his soul had concluded, and the ministers gathered in the Hall of Brightness. The three regents present solemnly carried the late emperor’s ceremonial robes to the eastern side of the hall, ascending to the roof. After three calls, they cast the garments down, draping them over the emperor’s body. No breath returned, and thus the imperial bed was prepared.

Bathing, mouth-closing, dressing, and hanging weights—each intricate step followed the prescribed rites. The new emperor and the late emperor’s consorts stood outside the curtains, weeping. Among the kneeling ministers below, sharp eyes spotted Consort Dong, who should have remained secluded at Bailu Terrace, yet there was no sign of the empress dowager from Xianju Hall or several key ministers of the Jinling faction. Each minister silently calculated their next move, remaining quiet.

After the preliminary rites came the final ones. According to the late emperor’s will, this day marked the Crown Prince’s ascension. Ministry of Rites officials worked tirelessly to hastily arrange a grand ceremony amidst the chaos. To the east of the Hall of Brightness, preparations were made for the new emperor’s enthronement, while to the west, the late emperor’s body rested. East and west symbolized the sun’s rising and setting, signifying the endless continuation of the Zhou dynasty.

Following the sacrifices to heaven, earth, ancestors, and state shrines, the new emperor donned the ceremonial robes and ascended the hall. The ministers bowed deeply, shouting “Long live!” Each movement adhered strictly to protocol. Yet the young boy seemed distracted, constantly turning back as he climbed the steps. When his gaze finally landed on his birth mother, Consort Dong, standing at the side of the hall, his expression darkened instantly.

All three regents were present in the hall but paid no heed to the young emperor’s dissatisfaction. Duke Yinping stepped forward, bowing and declaring: “Your Majesty has just ascended the throne. It is imperative to establish order within and without, and proclaim this to the world. I…”

“Where is my mother?”

Wei Xi abruptly cut off the regent’s lengthy speech. His first words startled the assembled ministers.

“Today is my coronation. My mother should be here to ascend to the position of Empress Dowager. Why has she not come to the Hall of Brightness for days?”

The answer was clear to everyone, yet only this bold young calf dared to voice it. Duke Yinping remained calm, his eyes half-lidded as he replied indifferently: “The Empress Dowager has arrived. Your Majesty need not worry.”

Arrived?

The ministers exchanged bewildered glances, scanning the hall but finding no trace of Her Majesty. Tension mounted as Duke Yinping suddenly bowed toward Consort Dong at the side of the hall, announcing loudly: “There is nothing more important than honoring one’s father in serving heaven, and nothing greater than respecting one’s kin in serving the earth. Your Majesty inherits the mandate of heaven to ascend the throne. It is fitting to honor your birth mother to display filial piety. I propose bestowing upon her the title of Empress Dowager with jade tablets and golden seals.”

This…

This was a blatant attempt to install Consort Dong as Empress Dowager!

As murmurs erupted, Chancellor Fan stepped forward, bowing similarly. Following his lead, officials loyal to the Luoyang faction knelt in unison, their actions eerily coordinated. Neutral ministers were left stunned, unsure whether to follow suit.

“Ridiculous!”

The young emperor’s voice rang out sharply, his imperial wrath palpable—if somewhat diminished by his youth.

“I have only one mother, and that is the late emperor’s empress, Lady Song! Furthermore, this is my family matter. How dare the Duke of Yinping meddle so brazenly!”

“A family matter, yes—but also a matter of state!”

Duke Yinping showed no fear, his presence overpowering the young emperor. His cold, resolute voice echoed throughout the vast hall.

“The late emperor governed with benevolence and filial piety. How can Your Majesty disregard human ethics and abandon your birth mother at Bailu Terrace? Where is the dignity of the imperial household? Where is the integrity of the state?”

His words were severe, righteous, and cutting, each syllable a dagger aimed at the heart. The young emperor’s face paled, and in his shock, he even took a step back, resembling a frightened bird before a predator. His vulnerability was laid bare.

Perhaps… the imperial house has already…

Just as the ministers’ hidden thoughts began to stir, the heavy doors of the Hall of Brightness slowly creaked open. A cool, clear voice mingled with the swirling snow outside: “Duke Yinping speaks repeatedly of the late emperor, yet disregards the imperial edict and disgraces the royal family. How dare a mere subject interrogate the Son of Heaven in the Hall of Brightness? Is this the conduct of a prince?”

Her voice was soft, like snowflakes on flowers, yet no one dared dismiss her words as idle chatter. Without needing to turn, everyone knew who had arrived. The emperor’s eyes lit up anew, while the faces of Duke Yinping and his allies darkened sharply.

The world knew the Song family of Jinling for their noble lineage, but few spoke of the beauty of the Song women, for their grace and refinement far surpassed mere physical appearance. Yet her beauty was undeniable—her skin as pale as snow, her lips stained like blossoms, her eyes cold and aloof, exuding an untouchable elegance. She resembled a solitary plum blossom blooming defiantly in the snow, breathtaking in her poise.

Step by step, she ascended the Hall of Brightness, clad in a dignified, somber robe. Her commanding presence compelled the assembled ministers to bow willingly. Outside the hall, the sounds of clashing weapons could still be heard—General Lou Wei of the Northern Guard confronting Prince Wei Lin. Behind the empress, the key ministers of the Jinling faction entered the hall, their disheveled appearances belying their unwavering righteousness.

“Duke Yinping, how dare you—”

The furious rebuke came from Song Bo, the Empress’s uncle and Minister of Works, whose unkempt appearance bore the marks of days of confinement.

“Throughout history, no dynasty has dared to imprison its empress in a cold palace! The emperor’s legitimate mother should become the Empress Dowager! You seek to replace her with Consort Dong, clearly harboring malicious intent to usurp power!”

These words were unbearably harsh and incisive. The hearts of the assembled ministers leapt violently, unsure how the situation could be salvaged after this final layer of pretense was stripped away.

“Usurpation?”

Indeed, Duke Yinping let out a long, chilling laugh, his expression darkening further.

“I am a member of the imperial family! I once repelled Zhong He at Fengxiang, my loyalty known to all under heaven. How dare Minister Song slander me with baseless accusations? Are you trying to shift blame while harboring guilt?”

Shift blame?

“Preposterous!” Song Bo’s fury erupted. “We owe our allegiance to the late emperor. Today, we assist the new emperor’s ascension and protect the dignity of the imperial household. Where is our fault? What guilt do we bear? It is you who, moments after the late emperor’s passing, sought to humiliate the empress. If you are not traitors, then who is?”

Before Duke Yinping could respond, Chancellor Fan beside him sneered coldly. “Minister Song, as Minister of Works, I never expected your skill in fabricating charges to surpass even those of the Ministry of Justice. Traitors? Who truly seeks to humiliate the empress—us, or you, who aim to force the court’s relocation south for personal gain? Minister Song, ask yourself!”

Provocative and relentless.

At these words, not only Song Bo but the entire group of Jinling-aligned ministers were incensed. One of them angrily retorted: “Chancellor Fan, have you forgotten the late emperor’s edict? It explicitly commands the new emperor to rule jointly with the Empress Dowager and ensure the southern relocation proceeds without error. How dare we, as subjects, defy the late emperor’s will!”