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◎The Emperor’s Demise◎
Song Shiyan walked calmly through the main entrance of Xuande Hall.
Inside Xuande Hall were detained several ministers who had witnessed Song Chang drafting the decree to depose the Crown Prince. At that moment, they stood behind the guards’ drawn swords, seething with anger but unable to speak. Cai Ying, holding a bright yellow brocade box, glared coldly at the approaching Crown Prince: “Does Your Highness intend to rebel?”
Song Shiyan sneered, seemingly amused by his words: “Rebel?”
He leisurely took a sword from one of the guards and caressed its gleaming silver blade: “It’s not me who’s rebelling, but all of you esteemed ministers, isn’t it?”
Cai Ying glared furiously: “Nonsense!”
“All of you forced my father, while he was gravely ill, to draft this decree to install a young prince on the throne and seize control of the court,” Song Shiyan blew onto the blade in his hand. “I’ve brought troops into the palace to save the emperor—what crime have I committed?”
Holding the sword, he squinted one eye, scanning the crowd before suddenly asking: “Where is Zhou Tan?”
A guard beside him quietly replied: “He hasn’t entered the palace.”
Zhou Tan had just returned to the capital and hadn’t yet resumed his official position. Su Chao Ci was young, so no one found it odd that these two hadn’t come.
But to Song Shiyan, it was highly unexpected: “Father entrusted him with the imperial edict, and yet he didn’t summon him to the palace?”
The guard answered: “Our men have been watching him closely. After the last time His Majesty summoned him for a private meeting, he went to Qu Mansion with his wife. Since then, he has kept his mansion gates tightly shut and hasn’t ventured out.”
“Fool,” Song Shiyan said coldly, “Take a contingent immediately to search his mansion. Secure all the gates of Bian Capital and bring him back alive to see me. If you fail to capture him, I’ll take your head.”
His words were gentle yet indifferent, sending chills down the guard’s spine. As the guard rose to leave, the Crown Prince asked: “Is his wife also in the mansion?”
The guard replied: “After escorting the Qu family out of Bian Capital a few days ago, she hasn’t left the mansion.”
“Are the Qu family being followed?”
“They’re being followed. They’ve gone south of the Yangtze. If anything happens in Bian Capital, our men can bring them back immediately.”
Song Shiyan nodded: “Good, go.”
The guard wiped the sweat from his brow and hurried off to carry out the order.
Cai Ying, still clutching the brocade box, grew tense as Song Shiyan turned back toward him but managed to say: “How dare you commit such audacity within the imperial palace…”
Song Shiyan flicked his wrist slightly, slicing off half of Cai Ying’s topknot.
The crowd behind him gasped in shock. Cai Ying, still dazed, knelt there blankly. Seeing their expressions, Song Shiyan found it amusing and couldn’t help but burst into laughter.
“What a bunch of self-righteous literati! In the face of life and death, aren’t you all just the same cowards? How laughable, how laughable…”
He tossed the blood-stained sword in his hand forward. It clattered loudly to the ground, causing everyone to scramble backward in fear.
Song Shiyan, finding it boring, turned and asked: “Where is Jing’an?”
Another trusted guard replied: “He’s currently at the residence.”
Song Shiyan gave a subtle nod, and someone pushed open the doors of Xuande Hall. Sunlight spilled in, and someone behind him cursed loudly. Unbothered, Song Shiyan curved his lips faintly and strode directly toward Shengming Palace, where Song Chang lay.
The hall was thick with the smell of medicine. The palace maids trembled nervously, fleeing as soon as they saw him enter. A few of Emperor De’s remaining concubines knelt on the ground, weeping piteously. He glanced at them twice, finding their tears too fake, making him feel inexplicably irritated.
“What are you ladies doing here, bringing nothing but bad omens?” Song Shiyan bypassed the screen and said indifferently, “You should return to your own quarters. Even if Father weren’t sick, your chaos would make him so.”
This act was highly disrespectful, but with the turmoil inside and outside the palace, who dared to disobey?
Song Shiyan dismissed them and looked at the kneeling imperial physician: “Doctor Luo, did Father take his medicine today? If not, go and oversee its preparation. Bring it here, and I will personally serve it to him.”
Doctor Luo hastily replied: “Yes, yes.”
Since meeting with Zhou Tan and Su Chao Ci, Song Chang had fallen into a feverish stupor. In his haze, he felt someone lift the curtains and help him sit up. Believing it to be a palace attendant, it wasn’t until the warm liquid touched his tongue that he regained consciousness, catching the scent of dragon’s breath incense in the air.
Song Shiyan sat before him, gently blowing on the spoonful of medicine in his hand. Upon seeing him awake, he didn’t bow but instead spoke kindly: “Father has slept for so long. Let your son serve this medicine to you.”
Song Chang called hoarsely twice, realizing the hall was now empty, silent and heavy with the sound of dripping water from the timekeeper.
Song Shiyan asked: “Who is Father looking for? We haven’t had a heartfelt conversation in so long. Won’t Father talk to your loyal son?”
Without caring about propriety, Song Chang grabbed his wrist urgently and asked: “Why… why did you kill Su Huai Xu?”
Song Shiyan smirked: “Since Father has already seen Lord Su, why ask me again? Ultimately, I hesitated too much, thinking removing Lord Su would invite your suspicion. How could I have known he already knew everything?”
In the dim candlelight, Song Chang gazed at the Crown Prince’s delicate, handsome face, belatedly realizing how dissimilar he looked to the Empress from Jiangnan—his deep-set eyes, high nose bridge, pupils black tinged with blue—not very Han-like at all.
Before he could speak, Song Shiyan interrupted softly: “Does Father think this scene resembles something from the past? When you forced Grandfather’s death, did you ever imagine you’d face the same fate?”
Song Chang’s eyes widened slightly.
But Song Shiyan continued: “I was young back then and didn’t understand what you were doing for a long time. But the more I thought about it, the more interesting it became—lineage, bloodlines, coercion, and the lives of the entire Jing Wang family…”
Song Chang clutched his once youthful and valiant son, his face contorted: “You heard?”
“I heard,” Song Shiyan replied cheerfully, as if he had long anticipated confessing this. “That’s why when Father insisted on building the Candle Tower, I didn’t object. I wanted to know—”
Leaning close to Song Chang’s ear, he whispered softly: “Does Father share the same troubles as me?”
Song Chang stared at his sweet smile, his voice trembling: “No matter who your mother is, I… am your biological father.”
Song Shiyan said: “Yes, it was Father who favored that Xi Shao woman, then cast her aside, leaving her pregnant and locked in the dungeon, living a fate worse than death. She bore hatred, killed the Empress’s child, and raised me, a changeling, to be the Crown Prince.”
His gaze pierced through, sharp and icy, like venom: “Father sowed this karma himself. Why should I, as your son, bear the constant fear and anxiety because of your sins?”
Song Chang rasped: “The Empress’s child…”
“When Lord Su Huai Xu first brought that woman before me, I drew my sword and killed him first. I kept her alive, hoping she’d reveal the whereabouts of the Empress’s child, to eradicate any remnants. But she hated the Empress so much—how could she have left her child alive? She strangled the baby shortly after leaving the palace and discarded it. When she returned to look, all she found were fragments of infant bones—the body probably devoured by wild dogs. Father, when you meet this child in the afterlife, don’t forget to apologize.”
“You disposed of everyone involved in building the Candle Tower so thoroughly. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find out the truth. Presumably, Father intended to take this secret to hell. But even without knowing, I could guess. Father’s bloodline is impure, and so is mine. Just as you said, ‘neither father nor son’—isn’t it hilarious? Hahaha…”
Song Chang caught his breath: “You used to be… such a good child. In recent years, you’ve grown increasingly brutal and murderous, even slaughtering your own siblings. If not for that, even knowing your lineage, what harm would leaving the empire to you cause?”
“Father needn’t feign sympathy anymore,” Song Shiyan cut him off. “If you had known earlier, could I have lived to this day? Since I was seventeen, Father believed I was the one torturing servants in the garden, not my second brother. Did you ever hear my defense? The Eastern Palace has always been difficult to hold. Without Father’s trust, I treaded on thin ice. Without resorting to underhanded tactics, I wouldn’t have been able to protect myself.”
He stood up and knelt before the bed: “Father’s bloodline is impure, and he’s been mad for so long. I’m a madman too—a worthy son of Father. Today, I’m merely following in Father’s footsteps. Even if you depose me today, whom will you find to inherit the throne? Why not hand over the imperial seal to me? With the edict, I’ll release those pedantic scholars from Xuande Hall. What do you say?”
Song Chang breathed heavily, finally saying: “I can agree to that, but… just like back then, I want you to make a few promises.”
Song Shiyan let out an indifferent “Hmm.”
“First, the ministers in Xuande Hall are the pillars of the nation. If you slaughter them all… the court will be empty, unable to continue. Spare their lives, even if only temporarily imprisoning them. Once you ascend the throne legitimately, release them. They will still be loyal to the dynasty.”
“Second, you bear the blood of Xi Shao, not by your choice, but the enmity between Da Yin and Xi Shao remains… No matter what, you must guard the borders and avenge the bloodshed of the Pengcheng Battle…”
“Third…” he coughed heavily, struggling to say, “Zhou Tan… cannot die. Let him leave Bian Capital. Do you know… he is your Uncle Xiao’s…”
He didn’t continue, but Song Shiyan understood, slightly surprised: “Uncle Xiao had descendants?”
“Back during the Jinling Rebellion, Uncle Xiao saved you. For the sake of that bond, spare his life…” Song Chang’s voice trailed off intermittently before he mustered his strength: “Can you promise me?”
Song Shiyan, without hesitation, replied warmly: “Of course.”
The old emperor gruffly revealed the hiding place of the imperial seal. After speaking, he collapsed as if all strength had been drained from his body. Song Shiyan paid him no further heed, standing up and walking out. After a few steps, he turned around: “However, Father…”
He furrowed his brows, seemingly troubled: “Back then, before Grandfather’s bedside, you promised to let Uncle Xiao guard the borders and retain Chancellor Gu in court, vowing lifelong respect, not to slaughter the Jing Wang descendants, and… to treat the people kindly and govern benevolently.”
Biting his lip, he couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh: “Father seems to have broken every single promise… As your flesh and blood, I will surely inherit your legacy.”
Song Chang clutched the bright yellow bedspread desperately, wanting to call out to him, but no words came out. Finally, he only managed to knock over the bowl of now-cold medicine beside the bed.
Song Shiyan stood before the intricately carved wooden door for a while, waiting until all sounds ceased within the hall before pushing it open.
The sun had completely sunk below the horizon.
Stepping over the high threshold, he blinked twice, and tears immediately fell.
These tears seemed devoid of emotion, cold and indifferent.
The Crown Prince’s face always carried a faint smile, ambiguous and uncertain, but now, he shed tears expressionlessly.
He walked several steps outward and saw a sea of kneeling palace maids and eunuchs in the twilight. Very softly, he said: “Father… has passed away.”
Cries echoed, indistinguishable between genuine sorrow and pretense.
“The Dragon has ascended; the whole nation mourns together. Everyone… hang white cloth and prepare the funeral rites.”
He wiped the tears from his face and saw a guard trembling on his knees at his feet, whispering: “Your Highness… Zhou Tan has indeed… but his wife was left behind in the mansion. Zhou Tan seemed unwilling to take her with him. When our men found her, she hadn’t even woken up… We’ve rescued her and temporarily placed her in the Crown Princess’s quarters.”
Song Shiyan asked sinisterly: “Where is Zhou Tan?”
The guard replied: “We’ve… sent men to find him. They’ll be back shortly…”
Song Shiyan unsheathed his sword from his side. The blade flashed in the night, and the guard collapsed, blood splattering onto the Crown Prince’s cheek.
He threw the sword aside, not even wiping the blood from his face, as if nothing had happened, and ordered casually: “Continue searching—Song Seven, does my appearance now seem scarier than before?”
The guard whose name was called steeled himself and lifted his head, nodding stiffly. Satisfied, the Crown Prince smiled and turned toward Xuande Hall.
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