FYM - 100

On the fifteenth day of the first lunar month, the Lantern Festival, it was customary to light lanterns, pray for blesssings, stroll through the streets, and admire the moon. However, this year’s Eastern Capital was unusually desolate due to the impending southern migration. Not only were the common folk subdued, but even the young emperor lacked energy all evening. Coaxed by Wang Mu, he managed to eat a few bites of meat porridge with silkworm noodles before retiring to Guanfeng Hall shortly after the hour of You.

After the lights were extinguished, sleep eluded him. Tossing and turning on the vast dragon bed, he eventually rose alone in discomfort. The palace maids carefully draped an outer robe over him and asked if His Majesty felt unwell. He didn’t respond but said he wanted to see his mother. Wang Mu tried to dissuade him, but soon the young emperor slipped on his dragon boots and hurried toward Jishan Palace.

The lights in Jishan Palace were still lit, as Song Shuyan was still handling unfinished affairs from the day. The various prefectures in Jiangnan were still tallying the population and clearing land to resettle the northern migrants. Many figures differed from what the Ministry of Revenue had previously reported, so she had to review them one by one and summon people for questioning. Amidst the complexity, several disturbances came from the outer hall. Looking up, she saw Wei Xi rush in disheveled, with court eunuchs chasing after him. The young emperor scolded them: “How dare you stop me! I just want to see my mother. Why are you blocking me like this?”

His temper had grown, or perhaps he was simply anxious about leaving the Eastern Capital where he had lived since childhood. Song Shuyan sighed inwardly, set down her brush, and waved the attendants away. The eunuchs bowed and retreated. Wei Xi cautiously approached her, studying her expression.

“Mother…”

He tugged at her sleeve timidly, more adept at flattery than when he was six or seven. She shook her head but gave him a smile, and he immediately clutched her hand tightly as if pardoned.

The young emperor was nearing fourteen, though frail due to chronic illness, he was no longer entirely naive. Song Shuyan felt awkward but gently withdrew her hand without a trace. Wei Xi was momentarily stunned, then his face fell, muttering, “They say Mother won’t be the same after taking control behind the curtain… It seems true; now you won’t even hold my hand…”

These were strange accusations, yet they circulated widely among court and common folk alike. The Luoyang faction already despised her, and even neutral officials were reluctant to see a woman wielding power. Among the palace servants, some might have spread rumors to incite discord against her. Wei Xi had clearly heard such gossip and taken it to heart.

“Is that so?”

She responded indifferently but didn’t rush to defend herself. Instead of holding his hand as he wished, she picked up a stack of memorials from the desk.

“I never intended to govern directly and have long hoped to return power to my son someday. If Your Majesty doubts me, then let us gradually transfer these responsibilities back to you. Perhaps this will grant me some peace.”

With that, she rose to leave, startling Wei Xi into clutching her arm tighter. His small face turned deathly pale, clearly regretful.

“Mother, don’t be angry. It was my mistake…”

He was almost ready to kneel, tears welling up in his youthful eyes.

“I shouldn’t have listened to others’ idle talk. Mother is the kindest person to me in the world. I just… I just wanted to be closer to you…”

His nature had always been somewhat weak, prone to crying. Watching him, Song Shuyan felt a deep sense of helplessness. She wondered when this young emperor would grow strong enough to shoulder the responsibility of ruling the realm. Still, he was someone she had watched grow up, and despite their lack of blood ties, their bond remained profound. Finally, she sat back down, not rejecting him as he nestled into her embrace, softly saying, “Since ancient times, those in high places endure loneliness. Now, we rely on each other amidst the treacherous court and palace. We must tread carefully and avoid being swayed by others. I have only one child—Your Majesty—and would never abandon you for anyone else…”

Her voice was gentle, her faint scent of snowflakes familiar and comforting. Wei Xi, emboldened by his earlier tears, leaned fully into her lap. She continued to admonish him: “You’re growing older, and one day you’ll rule over the empire and its people. How can you still cry so easily like a child? And certainly not like this…”

She tried to pull him up, but he resisted, pretending to be pitiful and pleading, “Mother, let me rest here a while. Thinking about the southern migration makes me anxious and restless. I haven’t slept soundly in days…”

Pausing, fearing rejection, he quickly changed the subject: “Tell me about Jinling, Mother. What kind of place is it? I hear the old Liang palace has been renovated. How does it compare to the imperial palaces of the eastern and western capitals?”

…Jinling?

Song Shuyan’s expression flickered slightly. Memories from seven years ago flooded back. The entire court assumed she, as a descendant of the foremost southern clan, would eagerly return to Jinling. But they didn’t know she was perhaps the person most weary and resentful of that ancient capital.

“I’m actually afraid of leaving Luoyang… Everyone says the imperial aura gathers in the Central Plains. Perhaps after this move, Zhou will…”

Wei Xi didn’t know her thoughts and continued to curl up, murmuring anxiously. A young boy often harbors many fears and uncertainties, needing guidance to clear the fog before his eyes.

“But when I think of Jinling as your hometown, I feel less afraid… The place where Mother grew up must be beautiful and wonderful…”

This statement was difficult to respond to. For her, the concept of “hometown” likely extended only to Hangzhou, which had grown distant after her grandmother’s passing.

—Where did she belong now?

It seemed… she no longer had a place.

She smiled faintly, like a flower that had withered. Something kept her clinging to life, though perhaps deep down, she yearned to end it all and reunite with her grandmother and Zhui’er.

“Yes, it’s very nice.”

Still, she reassured Wei Xi, hoping the future ruler of the nation wouldn’t lose hope as she had.

“Your Majesty will surely like it there… When the situation in the Central Plains stabilizes, our dynasty will surely return north to restore its glory.”

Two days later, deemed an auspicious date, the long-delayed southern migration finally commenced.

The people of the Eastern Capital had long heard rumors. Though they initially held onto hope when they saw nobles hastily packing, seeing the Empress Dowager and the emperor depart the palace gates in grand carriages shattered their last illusions. Luoyang, like Chang’an before it, had become a pawn, destined to fall under the hooves of barbarians and turn into a dead city.

Crowds gathered along the roads, their mournful cries echoing everywhere. The Southern and Northern Imperial Guards stood ready, with Song Mingzhen, General of the Feathered Forest, and Lou Wei, Commander of the Northern Guard, closely protecting the imperial carriage. Behind the procession followed the Yinping family’s carriage. Lady Yong’an, Wei Lan, gently lifted the curtain, her beautiful eyes reflecting the declining city of Luoyang.

“Father said just days ago that this southern migration wouldn’t happen,” she turned to her father, Wei Bi, sharing the carriage, her tone puzzled and wistful. “Now that we’ve passed Yingtian Gate, this…”

Her father smiled silently, appearing calm and confident. Wei Lan didn’t press further but gazed ahead at the jade carriage carrying the imperial family. Thick, luxurious curtains concealed the figures inside, preventing her from glimpsing the current governing Empress Dowager, Song Shuyan.

They said she was beautiful and wise in governance.

—I wonder if that’s true?

If given the chance… perhaps she should take a look.

The southern migration was no small matter. Every detail of the journey had been meticulously planned months in advance by the Ministries of Works and Rites. From the Eastern Capital, they entered the Luo River, exited the city at Banzhu, traveled southeast via the Tongji Canal, reached the opposite shore of Xuyi, entered the Huai River, then transferred to the Shanyang Canal to Yangzhou, crossed the Yangtze River, and finally arrived in Jinling by carriage.

Though the young emperor had experienced the move from the Western to the Eastern Capital during his childhood, it was evidently less arduous than this journey. Time had blurred his memories, and he barely recalled the details. Now, aboard the massive ship with rolling waves and fierce winds, his emotions churned—a mix of sorrow and excitement.

Wang Mu, ever attentive, feared the young emperor might catch a chill standing at the ship’s bow for too long and soon persuaded him to return to the cabin. The Ministry of Works had done an excellent job; the newly constructed imperial ship was grand and stable, with three levels of cabins. The Empress Dowager rested and governed on the top level, accompanied by Generals Lou and Song, who took turns guarding the imperial family around the clock.

Before Wei Xi returned to the cabin, Song Shuyan was discussing matters with the two generals. When asked about the movements of the Luoyang faction, Lou Wei respectfully replied, “This journey involves over a thousand official ships. Following the Empress Dowager’s orders, we’ve dispersed the Luoyang faction. Both the Prince of Yinping and Minister Fan are under close watch, ensuring they won’t cause trouble.”

Song Shuyan nodded, her calm demeanor masking deeper concerns. Wei Bi was reckless and stubborn, while Fan Yucheng was deeply calculating and strategic. The relocation undermined the Luoyang faction’s foundation, and though they had been intimidated by Fang Xianting, most were unwilling to surrender quietly. With over half a month of travel ahead, there was no guarantee they wouldn’t suddenly act, causing trouble.

“Your Majesty needn’t worry too much…”

Her second brother understood her thoughts and offered gentle reassurance.

“The Yinping royal estate troops are under the control of the Yingchuan army, and the rebels and Turks are blocked by Lord Fang. Currently, both land and water routes within a hundred miles are guarded and inspected by the imperial army. No unidentified forces will threaten Your Majesty and the Emperor.”

She understood all this and knew the defenses for the southern migration were personally planned by him before departing for war—meticulous and foolproof. Yet, she was accustomed to expecting the worst. Lately, an inexplicable unease lingered…

She reviewed the Ministry of War’s documents again and, after deep thought, found no forces that could endanger the emperor. Turning to her brother, she nodded, then addressed Lou Wei: “General Lou, your injury hasn’t fully healed, yet you’re serving tirelessly near the emperor. Please accept my gratitude on behalf of His Majesty.”

Lou Wei had briefly met Song Shuyan ten years ago in the depths of Mount Li. Since then, though unaware of her past with his third brother, he had witnessed her struggles after marrying into the Eastern Capital. She was truly a resilient person, and after the southern migration… life would likely become even harder.

“Your humble servant dares not,” he bowed sincerely, his loyalty extending beyond duty, perhaps remembering his third brother’s recent visit and request. “Your Majesty and the Emperor are invaluable. I pledge to protect you with my life.”