FYM - 133

In the first year of Guangyou, on the sixteenth day of the ninth month, Marquis Yingchuan returned to the capital with his troops from the southern border. The five-month-long martial law in the imperial city was finally lifted, but the deepening chill of late autumn only made the atmosphere feel even more austere.

That day, Emperor Wei Xi rose very early.

He had tossed and turned awake before dawn. By the time he finished breakfast, it was only halfway through the hour of Yin. Wang Mu, standing respectfully by his side, asked why His Majesty seemed so spirited today. Wei Xi smiled and replied, “Today, Lord Fang is returning to the court, victorious in Youzhou and having secured the southern border. How could I not be joyful?”

Six months had passed, and the young ruler, who once carried a few traces of childish innocence, had now fully matured into a strikingly elegant young man. His once slightly sharp voice began to deepen, and his facial features became more defined—he bore a resemblance equally split between his late father and his birth mother. His eyes were deep and bright, his nose narrow and refined, and his limbs long and somewhat slender.

Wang Mu, hearing this, bowed deeply to congratulate the emperor. However, at the mention of “Lord Fang,” his expression grew subtly complicated. Unaware, Wei Xi continued, “Moreover, ever since the war broke out in the south, my mother the Empress Dowager has been unable to sleep for worry night after night. Now that Lord Fang returns triumphant, she will surely be able to rest well tonight.”

As he mentioned his adoptive mother, the young emperor’s face softened faintly, and he repeatedly glanced toward the window to check the light. As soon as the time came, he eagerly set off for Fuqing Hall. Coincidentally, the Empress Dowager’s phoenix carriage was just emerging from the hall. Wei Xi hurried forward, dismissing Xixiu and personally supporting her hand. His tall figure now surpassed hers slightly.

“Mother, did you spend another night working tirelessly in Fengyang Palace?”

He carefully observed her pale lips and bloodshot eyes, acting both as a concerned child toward his mother and as a solicitous man toward a woman.

“I have always told you not to exhaust yourself like this. If this continues, it will harm your health…”

Though these words came easily to him, deep down, he lacked confidence. Grand Tutor Chen Meng had already told him that the only way to share the burden of filial duty with his mother was for him to assume personal governance as soon as possible. Once the Empress Dowager withdrew from political affairs, she could live peacefully in Fuqing Hall, no longer troubled by the dirty matters of the court.

He truly held this ambition, but whenever major events arose, he still couldn’t help relying on her. For instance, during the recent martial law in Jinling, officials from the Luoyang faction stormed the palace daily, accusing Lord Fang of abusing power and destabilizing governance, submitting joint petitions demanding severe punishment. Such alarming scenes always reminded him of how, when his father passed away, he had cowered under pressure from the Luoyang faction, retreating behind his mother to let her handle things.

“Does Your Majesty intend to hide forever?”

Grand Tutor Chen Meng’s gaze that day was especially stern, his tone unusually grave and solemn.

“The Empress Dowager’s regency is only a temporary measure. Ultimately, the responsibility for the Zhou dynasty’s prosperity rests on Your Majesty’s shoulders. The late emperor placed great hopes in you for revival—how can you belittle yourself and lightly betray those expectations?”

“There are no companions who can walk alongside us all the way… Your Majesty must prepare for the future.”

These words carried deep meaning, but at the time, Wei Xi didn’t fully understand them. In fact, he silently refuted them in his heart—why shouldn’t there be someone who could walk alongside him all the way? He and his mother were destined to journey together through life. She had promised to stay by his side forever, and he had vowed to guard his secret love for her throughout his life. The deepest bond in the world wasn’t necessarily one of blood—it was one of shared joys and sorrows.

But one thing the Grand Tutor said was right—the nation’s welfare was his responsibility. He couldn’t let his mother bear it forever. He would become a stronger and wiser ruler than his father, protecting her under his wings. He would always love and respect her, making her the most noble and carefree woman in the world.

At this moment, however, his mother’s expression seemed distant, perhaps exhausted beyond measure. She simply replied faintly, “It’s fine,” her beautiful eyes looking toward Qian Ding Palace, as if her thoughts were far away. Wei Xi thought to himself that she must be worried about the situation following Lord Fang’s return. Today’s court session would undoubtedly see fierce accusations and infighting. Determined to shield her, he resolved not to let her be pressured by the officials, nor to allow Lord Fang, who acted solely for the public good, to be harmed by rival factions.

This would be no easy task…

Wei Xi felt a wave of nervousness rising within him.

The hour of Mao had arrived.

The grand hall of Qianding stood imposing and solemn, with rows of ministers lining either side. The biting cold of a cloudy autumn morning seeped into the air, making today’s imperial palace seem even more severe and chilling than usual. The pearl curtains swayed gently as both the Empress Dowager and the emperor took their places, receiving three bows and cheers from civil and military officials. Soon after, eunuch Wang Mu’s deep voice rang out: “Rise.” With this, the day’s court session officially began.

“Your Majesty, Empress Dowager,” he announced, bowing to report both to the hidden Empress and the visible emperor, “Marquis Yingchuan has returned to the court after securing the southern border and is currently waiting outside the hall. Shall we summon him?”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than an undercurrent of tension swept through the chamber. Wei Xi keenly sensed the swelling confidence of the Luoyang faction. The faces of Wei Bi and Fan Yucheng, leaders of the faction, darkened ominously. A faint sweat broke out on his palms, and his heart began to beat faster.

“Summon him.”

He forced calmness into his voice as he uttered the single word.

“Summon Marquis Yingchuan to the hall!”

The heavy palace doors slowly opened, and Marquis Yingchuan, absent from court for nearly half a year, reappeared before the assembly. None of the civil or military officials turned their heads, yet their peripheral gazes followed his every step up the hall. The familiar deep purple of his robes was absent; judging by his footsteps, he wore no heavy armor. Instead, he was clad in plain black martial attire, rendering him unrecognizable as the ruthless general who had once led campaigns across the southern border.

“Hmph.”

A cold snort echoed through the chamber. Turning his head slightly, Wei Xi saw it came from the long-resentful Prince of Yinping. His face twisted with mockery as he watched Marquis Yingchuan approach the center of the hall. “My lord’s achievements surpass those of any subject, and now it seems he can storm the residences of court officials without permission and appear before the emperor without adhering to protocol. Truly extraordinary, isn’t he?”

The barbed remarks barely scratched the surface of the resentment harbored since the Lou brothers had humiliated him months ago. Sitting on the dragon throne, determined to relieve his mother of her burdens, the young emperor froze, unsure of what to say to ease the tension. Just then, Lord Fang executed a formal greeting without changing his expression, saying, “The two regional commanders in the south intended to consolidate their own power. During my trip to Guangfu and Yizhou, I uncovered letters documenting their conspiracies. Additionally, they had raised fifteen million taels of silver independently without reporting to the court. All of this has now been confiscated and submitted as irrefutable evidence of their treasonous intent. I ask the Empress Dowager and Your Majesty to review it.”

With that, a group of imperial guards entered the hall carrying several large wooden chests, which they placed on the ground with a resounding thud. Opening the lids revealed dazzling gold and silver, while a separate chest contained correspondence between the conspirators—volumes upon volumes of damning evidence.

Seizing the opportunity, Wei Xi prepared to praise Lord Fang’s accomplishments. But before he could open his mouth, Chancellor Fan intercepted him. The old fox was all smiles on the surface but harbored hidden daggers beneath. With feigned nonchalance, he said, “While the actions of Shī and Dù were indeed improper, accusations and punishments should go through a joint trial by the three judicial departments. It is inappropriate for Lord Fang to have taken matters into his own hands. Moreover, Jinling is the imperial city, and its security lies in the hands of the Empress Dowager and Your Majesty. Why has martial law lasted for months? Does being the leader of the Five Regents give Lord Fang the authority to disregard discipline and insult the Son of Heaven?”

The accusation was sharp, deliberately framing Lord Fang as an enemy of the throne. Wei Xi suddenly found no opening to interject—any defense might seem like condoning arrogance. Just as he was at a loss, a voice emerged from behind the curtain. It was his mother speaking: “Regarding this matter, I—”

“Regarding this matter, I must beg forgiveness from the Empress Dowager and Your Majesty.”

Before she could finish, Lord Fang abruptly lifted his robe hem and knelt, lowering his head. Though the gesture was meant to convey humility and submission, coming from him, it somehow appeared dangerous and domineering.

“The two regional commanders brought significant forces to the southern capital, and suspicious activities along the borders have multiplied. Fearing delays that might endanger national security, I acted first and reported later, failing to seek imperial approval beforehand. This was indeed rash and presumptuous of me. I ask the Empress Dowager and Your Majesty to punish me accordingly.”

His words sent shockwaves through the chamber, especially among the Luoyang faction, who could scarcely believe their ears. Was Marquis Yingchuan mad? To so readily admit to overstepping authority and confess to acting without imperial orders—wasn’t he handing them a weapon, rendering their prepared arguments useless?

Wei Bi also stiffened momentarily before thinking inwardly, “Perfect.” Seizing the momentum, he pressed further: “So, sending troops to invade my mansion and mobilizing the army without an edict—all of this was solely your decision, not that of the Empress Dowager or His Majesty, correct?”

This was a deadly accusation. Mobilizing troops without an edict equaled treason, punishable by death regardless of circumstances. As Wei Xi sat anxiously on the dragon throne, Lord Fang answered without hesitation: “Yes.”

“Ah…”

The entire court erupted in murmurs. Wei Xi’s heart sank like a stone. A sigh drifted faintly from behind the curtain—or perhaps it wasn’t a sigh, but something else…

He couldn’t tell. Beneath the imperial steps, the Luoyang faction pounced like ravenous dogs, hurling accusations. Prince of Yinping shouted, “I vividly recall last year when Lord Fang, in the eastern capital’s Mingtang Hall, declared with certainty, ‘Only strict laws can maintain order, and only harsh punishments can rectify conduct.’ Yet now, when it concerns himself, does he apply the same standards of fairness and justice? Moving troops without an edict is a capital offense! Will you now submit to execution and atone to the world?”

This indictment mirrored last year’s rhetoric exactly, except the roles were reversed—the accused had now become the wielder of power. Chaos erupted among the officials. Ministers from the Jinling faction and neutral parties looked visibly alarmed. At that moment, Minister of War Fang Xing stepped forward, kneeling and kowtowing: “Your Majesty, Empress Dowager, please consider this clearly! While Lord Fang’s actions this time were indeed improper, his contributions in pacifying the south cannot be denied. He acted selflessly for the nation and its people. We humbly request that you show mercy and allow his merits to offset his faults, sparing him from punishment!”

This was the Fang clan defending their master. Half the court followed suit, kneeling together to plead for leniency based on past loyalty. Wei Bi and Fan Yucheng, fearing success for their opponents, rallied their allies into a heated verbal battle. The court descended into clamor, resembling a chaotic marketplace—a scene so absurd it invited ridicule.

“Silence—silence!”

The young emperor grew increasingly anxious, unsure how to resolve the day’s events. He knew Lord Fang acted for the nation and couldn’t bear to see a loyal servant wrongfully disgraced. Yet the crime of disobeying orders and acting independently was undeniable, and Fang hadn’t even attempted to defend himself. What could he do?

“Speaking of last year’s incident, I remember it quite clearly…”

Finally, the woman behind the curtain spoke. Wei Xi’s heart eased instantly. Her voice alone brought him comfort and peace.

“When Crown Prince Wei led troops into the palace on the day of the late emperor’s funeral, despite unsheathing weapons without authorization, he received only sixty strokes of the cane. Today, Lord Fang sends men to arrest two treacherous regional commanders at Prince of Yinping’s residence, yet according to all of you, this deserves a death sentence. It seems the value of a princely mansion exceeds that of the eastern capital’s Mingtang Hall by far.”