FYM - 46

By December, Chang’an was gripped by the biting cold of winter, its landscape bleak and desolate.

The imperial palace stood imposing and austere, but deep into the night, the Ganlu Hall was ablaze with lights. Physicians from the Imperial Medical Bureau hurried in and out, their faces etched with panic. From within the inner chambers came the incessant cries of concubines, a cacophony of despair. Everyone knew the end was near. The howling northern winds outside the carved windows sounded like wailing ghosts, as if mourning the emperor whose life hung by a thread.

Crown Prince Wei Qin knelt in the outer hall, surrounded by his loyal retainers, including Lord Wei Bi of Yinping and Fan Yucheng, the Junior Minister of the Imperial Household. The two exchanged a solemn glance behind the Crown Prince’s back, their expressions sharp and resolute.

Soon, a piercing scream echoed from the depths of the palace—unmistakably the voice of Consort Zhong, the emperor’s favored concubine. Chaos erupted among the palace attendants. Moments later, Kang Xiuwen emerged from the inner chambers, his face pale as death. Upon seeing the Crown Prince and the assembled ministers, he collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud, his trembling lips barely able to form the words: “His Majesty—has passed away—”

Shock rippled through the crowd. Their faces contorted with exaggerated grief, though whether their sorrow was genuine remained uncertain. The surprise, however, was entirely feigned. Who didn’t know that the late emperor had indulged in pleasures and obsessed over immortality potions? His frequent use of these elixirs had left him in states of manic excitement, inevitably taking its toll on his health. Tonight, he had died in the arms of Consort Zhong while she attended him in his bedchamber—a tragic yet unsurprising end.

Before the murmurs could subside, a flurry of footsteps erupted from the inner chambers. Heads turned to see Consort Zhong, her hair disheveled, burst through the curtains like a frenzied beast, lunging toward Crown Prince Wei Qin with a blood-curdling scream: “It’s you—it’s you—you killed His Majesty—”

This sudden chaos caught everyone off guard. Fortunately, General Lou Feng, stationed protectively before the Crown Prince, reacted swiftly, restraining the deranged concubine. Yet she continued to thrash violently, her usual charm replaced by a feral ferocity.

“It’s you—you knew your father intended to pass the throne to your younger brother, so you poisoned him! You ungrateful, unfilial murderer—”

Her shrill accusations grated on everyone’s ears. The assembled officials looked away in discomfort. The idea of the Crown Prince poisoning the emperor was laughable. If anything, the Crown Prince’s greatest flaw had always been his excessive piety and tolerance, which had allowed the prince born to Consort Zhong to repeatedly challenge his authority.

Yet even now, the Crown Prince showed no anger. He seemed lost in his grief, his face ashen, his hands trembling as he stared blankly at the inner chambers. After a long moment, he finally turned his gaze toward Consort Zhong, sighing heavily. “Consort Zhong is overwhelmed by grief over His Majesty’s passing. Please retire to the Penglai Palace for now. We will discuss other matters later…”

General Lou Feng understood. With a wave of his hand, several imperial guards stepped forward, dragging the hysterical concubine out of the hall. Her screams grew louder, her curses more venomous: “You wretched scum—your father is watching from the heavens—the whole world is watching—you dare treat me like this—Zheng’er will kill you—he will kill you—”

Thud—

The heavy doors of the hall opened and closed once more. Crown Prince Wei Qin’s expression remained distant. Wei Bi of Yinping stepped forward slightly, leaning close to murmur, “Your Highness, what now…?”

“Where is Yi Zhi?”

Wei Qin interrupted, his agitation briefly soothed only by the mention of that name.

“…Has he returned to the western capital?”

Everyone present understood the weight that man carried in the Crown Prince’s heart. Fan Yucheng bowed his head respectfully and stepped forward. “Marquis Fang is still in his three-year mourning period. However, the rest of the Fang family has gradually resumed their positions. The imperial guards remain loyal to the Eastern Palace, and General Lou Xiao has been ordered to return from the south. Your Highness, rest assured—victory is certain…”

“Three years…”

Wei Qin seemed deaf to all else, muttering those two words repeatedly. He turned his gaze toward the frigid night beyond the Ganlu Hall, his expression growing increasingly distraught.

“And what of Prince Zheng?” he finally asked. “…Has he entered the palace yet?”

This was the most pressing matter. Once the second prince entered the palace, he would be immediately apprehended by the imperial guards. Without their leader, the Zhong faction would collapse on its own, simplifying the subsequent steps. Though Zhong He remained far in Longyou, capable of stirring trouble, without a figure to rally around, he posed little threat. Once the Fang family of Yichuan returned to Chang’an, they could march westward and restore order.

But…

“He hasn’t,” Wei Bi replied, his eyes narrowing in frustration. “That prince must have heard something. When the palace messengers arrived at his residence, he was already gone… Most likely, he has fled…”

Fled…

The emperor’s sudden death had caught the Zhong faction unprepared. But if Prince Zheng escaped to Longyou, then…

Wei Qin closed his eyes briefly. When he reopened them, a steely resolve gleamed within. In a cold, commanding voice, he ordered: “Seal all four gates of Chang’an immediately. Under no circumstances are we to let the tiger escape and leave future troubles behind—”

The Crown Prince’s retinue quickly dispersed to carry out his orders. The vast imperial bedchamber fell silent, save for the prostrate palace attendants. Wei Qin stood alone amidst the oppressive stillness, his eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight from the bronze tree lamps within the hall. The wavering flames mirrored the stormy winter night—and perhaps the fate that countless people across this land were powerless to resist.

________________________________________

When the news reached Jiangnan, the matter had already been largely settled.

In mid-December, the new emperor ascended the throne, declaring the following year as the first year of the Taiqing era. Meanwhile, Prince Zheng of Qin had fled Chang’an amidst the chaos. Reports stated that the passes west of Jingji Circuit were under strict surveillance to prevent him from escaping to Longyou and causing further trouble. By the end of the month, word spread that Consort Zhong had volunteered to follow the late emperor in death. No one dared question the truth of this claim, but it was clear that the Rui dynasty had come to an end, and the realm now had a new ruler.

Yet rumors soon began to circulate. Some claimed the emperor’s sudden death was suspicious—that he had been poisoned by the Crown Prince. Whispers in the palace suggested that the emperor had drafted an edict to depose the Crown Prince and pass the throne to his second son. Upon learning this, the Crown Prince allegedly preemptively murdered his father, framing Consort Zhong and a group of wandering Daoist priests for the crime. Such accusations painted him as a treacherous, unfilial villain.

Public discourse buzzed with debate. While the Zhong faction undoubtedly fueled these rumors, closer scrutiny revealed undeniable inconsistencies in the emperor’s death. Even indulging in pleasures and elixirs shouldn’t have led to his demise at such a relatively young age. Moreover, just days before his death, the emperor had expressed intentions to tour the eastern regions. How had everything changed so abruptly?

Gradually, even the scholarly elite began to voice dissent. This dynasty governed on principles of benevolence and filial piety—a ruler who seized power through illegitimate means would struggle to gain universal acceptance. Even the Song family, who had temporarily retreated to Jiangnan, could sense the unrest. As long as Prince Zheng remained at large, peace would elude the empire.

________________________________________

Within the Song household, however, these grand political upheavals mattered little. What truly concerned them was the marriage of their third daughter.

While the nation mourned the emperor’s passing, Song Shuqian was overjoyed. With the new emperor’s ascension, the Fang family of Yichuan would naturally regain imperial favor. Reports indicated that most of their members had already resumed their former positions. It was only a matter of time before the title of “Marquis of Yichuan” was restored to “Duke of Jin.” Wouldn’t her cherished “Yi Zhi” once again become the most suitable match for her?

“Your sister always said you’re blessed,” Lady Wan exclaimed ecstatically, already envisioning Fang Xianting as her son-in-law.

“Destiny is a wondrous thing. Look at you and your Yi Zhi. After circling around so much, you’re still destined to be together. Nothing can break or destroy this bond—it’s the best kind of marriage…”

Her words were so confident and joyous, a stark contrast to her earlier decisiveness in severing ties with the Fangs. Even Song Mingzhen was stunned, whispering to his fourth sister when they were alone: “‘Break or destroy’? Is she talking about the marriage with the Fangs or her own shamelessness? The Wan family of Yangzhou isn’t exactly dishonorable, so why do they behave so disgracefully? Besides, has ‘Third Brother’ even agreed to this? With the Fangs’ newfound prestige, countless noble families will be eager to curry favor. Who says it’ll be her daughter who gets to cozy up?”

Song Shuyan listened silently, as she always did, never offering her opinion on her third sister’s marital prospects. Lately, hearing Fang Xianting’s name mentioned frequently at home stirred a mix of emotions. The vicissitudes of life were indeed unpredictable. At the start of the year, she had seen him bloodied and pursued on the river. Now, at year’s end, he basked in glory and favor. She genuinely rejoiced for him. A family as upright as the Fangs deserved a good outcome.

As for herself… She had always been worlds apart from him. Even when he was in dire straits, she couldn’t draw close. Now, the distance between them was insurmountable. She was grateful for her detached nature. As long as she refrained from foolish hopes, she wouldn’t grieve over unattainable dreams.

________________________________________

New Year arrived, and this Lunar New Year was spent in Jinling for the first time in years.

Song Shuyan remained aloof from the household, maintaining closeness only with her second brother. Unlike last year, her second sister was absent, leaving Lady Wu melancholic. She remarked to Song Shuyan: “Perhaps next year you’ll also be married. Then this house will only have me and Zi Qiu for company—it’ll feel even lonelier…”

Next year?

Song Shuyan felt disoriented, unable to picture her life after marriage. Her second brother frowned, clearly displeased. “Don’t say marrying that Wang Xu. That playboy doesn’t deserve my sister.”

Lady Wu scolded him lightly, admonishing him not to speak nonsense. “What’s wrong with Young Master Wang? He’s the legitimate heir of an official family—far superior to the groom your sister married. Shuyan will live comfortably. Don’t meddle where you don’t understand.”

Though dissatisfied, Song Mingzhen didn’t dare argue with his birth mother. On the tenth day of the new year, when Wang Xu visited again, Song Mingzhen couldn’t help but scowl. Hearing that the man had even dared invite his sister to stroll the streets made him seethe internally, cursing the audacity of such a rogue. Naturally, he forbade his sister from accepting.

Seeing this, Song Shuyan couldn’t help but smile. Since the reply from Qiantang hadn’t arrived, she was still uncertain how to handle her interactions with Young Master Wang. Politely declining, she accompanied her brother to buy some fresh snacks. Even during this short outing, Song Mingzhen lectured her: “Didn’t I tell you? He’s not a decent man. What kind of person invites an unmarried noble lady to stroll the streets? Just cut off his hopes. I’ll find someone better for you in the future.”

Someone better?

She wasn’t sure what “better” even meant anymore. Somewhere along the way, all men had begun to look the same to her. Perhaps her detachment had hardened into indifference. Returning home that day, she noticed the servants bustling about, their expressions brimming with excitement and anticipation. Curious, she followed her brother through the corridors to the main hall, where she unexpectedly encountered the one man who still stood apart in her eyes.

Surrounded by many admirers as always, he sat beside their father, while their stepmother and third sister watched him intently. Yet his gaze found her almost immediately. The small mole beneath his right eye exuded an air of grace and allure, captivating anyone it fell upon. She wasn’t immune either. The very next moment, he rose and nodded to her from afar.

“Miss Four…”

He smiled faintly, his eyes holding a world of romance and poetry.

“…Long time no see.”