FYM - 167

On the twenty-first day of the first month in the third year of Guangyou, Chang’an suddenly mobilized a force of one hundred thousand troops to declare war on Jinling. The very next day, they seized Shangzhou and advanced eastward, vowing to cross the Yangtze River within a hundred days.

It was a war that shocked the entire world.

Just three months after the northern campaign had ended, both north and south were left impoverished and desolate. While Jinling, despite its decline, still had the fruits of previous reforms to rely on, Chang’an was utterly spent—its wells dry, walls crumbling, with no foundation to stand on. Where did they find the audacity to fight Jinling again?

“Zhong He has gone mad…”

All the generals were gathered in the Ministry of War, including Jiang Chao and Lou Feng, who oversaw the Qianji Office. Minister Fang Xing had yielded his seat to Lord Fang Xianting, muttering under his breath as his brows furrowed deeply into a permanent knot.

“He knows he’s out of options and is determined to drag us down with him in mutual destruction. Our army isn’t afraid to meet them head-on, but…”

…But the situation within the court could no longer sustain a prolonged conflict.

Firstly, supplies were running dangerously low. Secondly, public morale was on the brink of collapse. As the saying goes, even a cornered dog will leap over a wall, and desperate enemies should not be pursued. Chang’an’s declaration of war this time clearly signaled their resolve to burn their boats and fight to the bitter end. If they made a misstep, it would only incite greater resentment among the people. Already, uprisings were breaking out across the land. If these grew into larger movements, they would become even harder to suppress. And if they ended up surrounded on all sides, then…

“But we can’t just sit back and do nothing.”

Song Mingzhen voiced his concerns, truly at a loss for a third path forward.

“Chang’an has nothing left to lose, but we must protect the people. Not to mention whether they can actually cross the Yangtze, even if they manage to retake Jin, Liang, and Pu states, the consequences would be unimaginable! The Tujue royal court surely remembers the hatred of those three states’ people defecting to us—how could they not exact revenge by slaughtering them?”

…Yes.

The Central Plains were also rife with grievances, and countless refugees harbored deep hatred for Zhong He and Wei Zheng. However, during the southern migration, most of the able-bodied men had already crossed the river, leaving behind only the elderly, women, and children. Even if filled with resentment, they lacked the means to rise up in rebellion, becoming helpless prey for others. This situation was vastly different from Jinling’s.

“Have the provisions for the various regional commanders been distributed yet?”

Amid the tense silence, Fang Xianting suddenly spoke. Fang Xing, standing beside him, was momentarily startled before responding with a bow: “Not yet.”

He acknowledged this with a nod, then continued in a low, resolute voice: “For now, withhold the stipends for the four garrisons of Jiannan, Guangfu, Pinglu, and Fanyang. Once the war is over, we’ll settle accounts separately. The Ministry of War need not handle this—I’ll personally send a letter.”

Jiannan and Guangfu were currently under the jurisdiction of Fang Xianting’s eldest son, Fang Yunchong, while Pinglu and Fanyang fell under Xie Ci’s command. Both maintained close personal ties with Fang Xianting and were known for their compliance with imperial orders. It was likely that these two commanders would be the only ones not to cause trouble over the temporary suspension of their stipends.

Everyone present understood the Marquis’s meaning. The suspended funds from these four garrisons would serve as the financial backbone for the impending war. However, Zhong He and Wei Zheng were already staking everything on this battle—no one knew how long these meager hundreds of thousands of strings of coins would sustain their forces at the front.

“This subordinate is willing to accompany the Marquis into battle—”

A deep voice suddenly broke the silence. It was Lou Feng, who had remained silent since entering the room. As deputy director of the Qianji Office, he technically no longer belonged to the military ranks, so volunteering for battle now was inappropriate. Yet, everyone could sense the firmness in his tone. No one doubted that if the Marquis gave the word, he would mount his horse and ride back to the battlefield without hesitation.

“The military affairs are in your younger brother’s hands. This time, I’ll mobilize the Southern Palace Imperial Guard to accompany me north,” Fang Xianting waved dismissively, unmoved by Lou Feng’s offer. “You and Jiang Chao will remain in Jinling—I have other important tasks for you.”

His tone was calm and unyielding, final and unchangeable. Lou Feng lowered his head silently, unsure whether the Marquis truly had an urgent mission for him or if he still couldn’t fully forgive him and his late father for their grave betrayal at Shangxiao Valley years ago…

“…Understood.”

He didn’t press further, obediently bowing to accept the order.

In truth, Fang Xianting wasn’t brushing Lou Feng off as the latter suspected. He genuinely intended to entrust the critical task of escorting Song Shuyan out of Tai Cheng to the Qianji Office.

No one understood the current state of the world better than Fang Xianting. The impending collapse wasn’t limited to Jinling; the Central Plains were even more devastated, a scene of utter ruin and despair. During the northern campaign, every city captured by the imperial army revealed piles of corpses abandoned by the roadside. Cannibalism was common, and under a fallen nest, there were no intact eggs. Most of the people in Jiangnan remained unaware of the hellish conditions just across the river.

As for Zhong He… mutual destruction might be an outcome for him, but declaring war so hastily seemed unwise. The Tujue were also weakened and focused on self-preservation—they wouldn’t have pressured Chang’an to act unless their goal extended beyond undermining southern morale to…

He closed his eyes briefly. Originally, he had planned to wait a little longer before taking Shuyan away from Jiangnan. Now, he feared there wouldn’t be enough time left to delay any further. She had already borne the brunt of public criticism over the tax increase, and with the outbreak of another major war, she would inevitably face even more backlash. Moreover, with him absent from court, anything could happen in Jinling.

She had to leave.

Immediately. Right now. Without delay.

“You want me to leave alone?”

Song Shuyan strongly opposed his decision.

“We already agreed—if we were to leave, we’d go together to Yingchuan, and you promised never to leave me behind again!”

“Besides, wartime is different from peacetime. Xi’er is still struggling to handle routine administrative duties—how can a child like him possibly cope if left unsupported at such a critical juncture?”

“I can’t leave!”

Rarely did she question his decisions, and in the past, she had almost always followed his arrangements regarding major matters. But this time, her disagreement led to a heated argument. Perhaps due to her pregnancy, her emotions were more volatile than usual, and her voice unconsciously rose as she spoke.

Fang Xianting knew her mind was in turmoil, but they were discussing matters in broad daylight at Fengyang Palace, and it wouldn’t do for eunuchs or palace maids outside the door to overhear. Quickly stepping forward, he placed his hands on her shoulders, his tone tinged with impatience as he spoke.

“Shuyan, now is not the time for us to argue…”

His expression was hurried—he needed to comfort her and then immediately return to the military to organize troop deployments.

“It’s dangerous for you to stay in Jinling. After the war begins, the entire situation in Jiangnan could spiral out of control. If you don’t leave now, you’ll never be able to leave!”

“Listen to me—two days from now, when the main army departs, you’ll propose personally escorting the troops to Yangzhou. Once there, I’ll arrange for someone to help you cross the river. From there, Jiang Chao and Lou Feng will escort you to Yingchuan. I…”

“Fang Xianting—”

Song Shuyan refused to hear any more. She forcefully pulled away from his grasp, her eyes reddening with anger and sorrow.

“It’s dangerous for me here in Jinling—is it any safer for you at the front lines?”

“How long can those hundreds of thousands of strings of coins sustain you? If I’m not in the capital to handle matters, who else can secure provisions for you?”

“This isn’t ten years ago anymore! Do you expect me to do nothing, just wait endlessly for you in some safe place like I did back then?”

Her questions came rapid-fire, each word piercing his heart. Memories of events from over a decade ago flashed before his eyes, and she wanted him to know she would not allow them to repeat themselves in front of her.

But—

“What about the child!”

He showed no empathy, gripping her shoulders even tighter. His voice, suppressed to the point of being barely audible, carried a tangled web of hidden shadows beneath his anguished gaze.

“Even if you don’t care about yourself, do you not care about our child?”

“What if this war drags on for another year or more? How will you conceal your pregnancy while remaining alone in the palace?”

“The situation today is the best it will ever be—every day from now on will only get worse! If the situation drastically changes after I leave the court, how will you protect yourself and the child in your womb?”

He was more forceful than her, proving that when he wanted to, he could be just as sharp and relentless. She was left speechless, tears spilling uncontrollably from her eyes. Later, she realized it was her momentary weakness that caused her to miss his carefully concealed oddities. Whenever he mentioned “the child,” the pain of regret became even more profound.

“Just… do it for me…”

Yet in the end, he embraced her, his sadness disguised perfectly in gentle words.

“For my peace of mind while I’m away… For me, preserve two more loved ones…”

She closed her eyes, feeling a dagger plunge deep into her unguarded heart. His vulnerability was the sharpest blade, reducing her to tears and shattering her completely.

…What did he think of when he mentioned “loved ones”?

Was it his father, who sacrificed himself to uphold the court’s principles and bid him farewell over wine on a snowy night?

Or his mother, who, in despair after surviving great calamities, hanged herself before he could see her one last time?

Or perhaps his sister, still alive somewhere… but long estranged from worldly affairs?

It seemed he, like her, had nothing left—only this faint hope, which she must preserve for him.

“…Alright.”

In the end, she relented. It seemed that even now, the person between them who truly made the decisions hadn’t changed. She didn’t know which choice was right—perhaps no matter what she chose, the outcome was destined to remain unchanged.

“Our child and I…”

“…will wait for you to come home together.”

At the end of the first month, news arrived from the Ministry of War. Due to heavy losses in manpower and strength after the northern campaign, one ten-thousand-strong unit each from the Northern and Southern Palaces’ Imperial Guards would be mobilized for the expedition. Prince Yinping, Wei Bi, also volunteered to join the fight, leading sixty thousand personal guards as Fang Xianting’s deputy general to head north across the river.

Upon hearing this, Lady Yong’an, who resided deep within the princely mansion, immediately sensed something unusual. Her father, the prince, had long been at odds with the Marquis, and given his advanced age, why would he suddenly volunteer to fight in the north? While it was true that as a member of the Wei clan, he bore responsibility to shoulder the burden during national crises, this move still felt…

She found it unsettling. Reflecting further, Chang’an’s sudden declaration of war also seemed inexplicably abrupt. Recalling her brother Wei Lin’s unusually excited demeanor in recent days, could it be…

A wave of unease rose within her. After careful consideration, she decided to seek out her father for answers. However, he had been summoned to the palace to discuss military strategy and returned late at night. Seeing her waiting outside the study, he appeared surprised and visibly fatigued. With a weary sigh, he said: “Tomorrow, I lead the troops into battle. I need to rest early tonight. Lan’er, whatever you wish to say, save it for another time.”

Wei Lan, seeing his condition, felt even more uneasy. The spring night in Jinling was chilling, sending a shiver down her spine. A foreboding sensation flashed through her mind. Suddenly reaching out, she grabbed her father’s arm as he turned to leave, urgently asking: “I only have one question, Father. Please answer it, and I’ll say no more—”

“Is this battle solely Chang’an’s reckless act of fate, or… does human manipulation also play a role, exploiting the chaos?”