FYM - 170

On the last day of the first month in the third year of Guangyou, Dengzhou fell.

Chang’an expanded eastward from Fengxiang Prefecture, now securing half of Shannan Circuit. Dengzhou was less than a hundred miles from Huainan Circuit. If they crossed the Huai River and captured Shen Prefecture, the gateway to Jiangnan would be wide open, leaving Jinling with no retreat.

At the time of the city’s fall, the imperial army had not yet arrived to reinforce it; the local garrison had managed to hold out for only two days. However, once reinforcements arrived, the battlefield situation changed dramatically. Zhong He was quickly forced to retreat, and Dengzhou returned to imperial control. But news traveled slowly in Jiangnan. Upon hearing of Dengzhou’s fall, the common people panicked, fearing that barbarians and rebels would cross the Yangtze River the next day to massacre Jinling. Families fled south in haste, and complaints about the court’s incompetence grew louder and more pervasive.

Meanwhile, an even more shocking rumor spread rapidly among the populace: the reigning Empress Dowager was suspected of having an affair with Marquis Yingchuan Fang Xianting, and both had abandoned Jinling to head north!

What…!

At first hearing, everyone dismissed it as absurd. But after some reflection, many found it increasingly plausible—

No wonder! That young Empress Dowager effortlessly secured her position behind the curtain. Even when issuing reckless decrees like raising taxes, no one in the court dared to object! It turned out she had the support of Marquis Yingchuan—only then did she dare to act so arrogantly and oppressively!

No wonder! The Fang clan of Yingchuan, once invincible in battle, had repeatedly suffered defeats under the current court. Clearly, this wasn’t due to their inability to defeat the enemy but rather intentional sabotage! Fang Xianting harbored rebellious intentions! He sought to use Chang’an to undermine Jinling, sitting back while chaos reigned and letting others do the heavy lifting!

No wonder!

No wonder!

No wonder!

The entire nation was outraged!

Everyone believed they had uncovered the truth, piercing through the fog of political intrigue. Overnight, the Empress Dowager Song, who had once selflessly sacrificed family ties to implement reforms, became a heartless femme fatale. And Fang Xianting, who had fought tirelessly for the nation for a decade, was branded a hypocritical scoundrel. This treacherous pair had used the lives of innocent citizens to fulfill their selfish ambitions. Even being subjected to the cruelest punishments wouldn’t quench the people’s hatred!

It was all because of them!

A nation’s collapse, a family’s separation—it was all because of them!

They had made the people homeless and without refuge!

They had allowed barbarians to invade and spill Han blood!

It was them!

All of it was because of them!

…The snow fell heavier.

Thousands of miles of ice covered Central China. The imperial army raced day and night to Dengzhou. After a bloody battle, they rested for just one night before splitting into two forces to launch a counteroffensive, aiming to retake Shang and Pu prefectures. Unfortunately, the northeastern front line was in crisis. Du Luo once again led cavalry to attack Youzhou. Xie Ci, lacking sufficient troops, could not withstand the assault alone and was forced to request reinforcements from the court—but no reply came for a long time.

Everyone in the army knew the Tujue’s plan: to seize the eastern capital during the chaos, cutting off the court’s retreat. Luoyang, with its strong walls and deep moats, was the final bastion of the three armies. Losing it would leave them isolated and trapped, making survival nearly impossible.

“I once swore an oath to Lord Fang. As long as you remain loyal to the Wei clan for a single day, Youzhou will forever belong to Zhou, with no rebellion. But if you ever seek to establish a new dynasty, the Xie clan will follow you faithfully.”

“The disintegration is now inevitable, and the dynasty may not survive. Having received deep favors from the Fang clan, I am willing to obey your orders, join you in seizing Central China, and usher in a new era.”

“With respect, I bow twice.”

Xie Ci’s secret letter to Fang Xianting contained only a few words, but it encapsulated everything. Yet Fang Xianting paid little attention to the old promises mentioned in the letter. Everyone in the tent saw clearly that upon receiving it, he only glanced at it briefly before tossing it into the fire. Clearly, what Xie Ci reported wasn’t military intelligence, though no one knew exactly what it said.

“So what should we do now? Should we retreat to save the eastern capital?”

They were all losing their composure, especially Lou Wei, who was on a real battlefield for the first time and couldn’t help but feel anxious amidst this desperate situation.

“To strike at the enemy’s weak points, to block their momentum, is the way to resolve the crisis.”

Fang Xianting studied the sand table strategy.

“Let Prince Yinping rush to aid the eastern capital. Our main force must hold Dengzhou and protect Huainan. To save Zhao, we must besiege Wei. By attacking their supply lines and striking their weakest point, the key lies in one place—”

Everyone followed his gaze, and where his eyes landed was—Chang’an.

“Exactly!”

Song Mingzhen had grasped the idea and immediately voiced his agreement.

“Now that the rebel king has committed all his troops, Chang’an’s defenses must be weak. Instead of being dragged around by Zhong He in all directions, let’s directly seize the western capital to relieve the pressure on Luoyang!”

“Indeed,” Fang Yunhui chimed in, always trusting his third brother’s judgment. “Feint east, strike west, besiege the city, and intercept reinforcements. Once we reclaim Chang’an, public criticism will temporarily subside. It’s a win-win strategy!”

“But our forces are insufficient,” Song Mingzhen frowned again. “Our ten-thousand-strong army has already been divided into several routes. That old bastard Wei Bi’s troops won’t listen to us. He sent fifty thousand to Luoyang and left thirty thousand to guard the major passes along the Deng and Shen lines. At most, we can spare twenty thousand men to march west…”

“Then force him to hand over his troops—” Lou Wei growled. “At this critical juncture, what’s yours or mine? He’s a member of the Wei clan—how can he ignore the survival of his own kingdom?”

“But Du Luo’s forces are concentrated on the eastern front. If reinforcements are insufficient, Xie Ci might not hold out until we take Chang’an,” Fang Yunhui also grew anxious, fully aware of the dire situation in Youzhou. “Besides, the military funds for this campaign were originally part of his share. If we further delay reinforcements to Fanyang and Pinglu, we risk losing them entirely.”

Caught between a rock and a hard place, the severely impoverished court left these generals struggling to maneuver. A clever housewife cannot cook without rice, and even if the God of War descended to earth, such a predicament would leave him powerless.

“It’s lamentable that Brother Fang Yunchong must remain in Yingchuan to protect the Empress Dowager, and Chief Jiang Chao still needs to lead the Qianji Office to quell civil unrest,” Lou Wei clenched his fists in frustration, unable to dispel the growing sense of helplessness. “Truly…”

Everyone fell silent. Surrounded on all sides, despite everyone’s best efforts, the cracks in the crumbling empire only widened.

“Luoyang must not fall, and the eastern front still needs a shield,” Fang Xianting declared, his mind already made up. “Twenty thousand troops will launch a surprise attack on Chang’an. We must achieve a swift victory within seven days. The disaster of last year’s northern campaign to Qizhou was enough.”

…Seven days.

This campaign had been hastily prepared, and the remaining supplies could sustain the army for only seven days. Speed was essential for a surprise attack. If unsuccessful… those twenty thousand soldiers would die in encirclement.

“I’ll go with Third Brother—”

“I’m willing to go too!”

“Third Brother, take me with you—”

Song Mingzhen and Lou Wei were always obedient to Fang Xianting and willing to risk their lives alongside him at this critical moment. But Fang Xianting simply patted their shoulders, his expression unreadable. No one noticed the deeper meaning in his gaze. In a calm voice, he said, “Huainan still needs protection. You two stay in Dengzhou to pin down Zhong He’s forces. Leave the western expedition to Zixing.”

…He was always like this.

He knew Song Mingzhen had a wife and newborn daughter waiting for him at home, and Lou Wei, inexperienced on the battlefield, was full of doubts and fears. So, the heaviest responsibilities always fell on the Fang family’s shoulders. When mentioned, his tone remained light, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“Third Brother…”

Both felt uneasy and wanted to argue further, but Fang Yunhui, ever playful, clapped them on the shoulder and teased, “I told you Third Brother wouldn’t choose you. Guarding the southern and northern palaces is such an easy job—just catching petty thieves in the imperial city! But I’ve seen more of the world with Elder Brother, which is why I’m favored by Third Brother!”

Friends who had known each other since youth understood each other’s true intentions. Though seemingly carefree, Fang Yunhui was pure-hearted and straightforward. He feared his friends would fight over this deadly task and didn’t want them to feel guilty for staying in Dengzhou instead of going to Chang’an. His jesting was a facade, but his tenderness rivaled that of his third brother.

“There’s no need to argue over these trivial matters. I’ll have plenty of use for you in the future—”

Fang Yunhui smiled brightly, still the same spirited young man from their youth.

“When Third Brother and I capture Chang’an, let’s celebrate with wine at Biexiao Tower!”

On the ninth day of the second month in the first year of Guangyou, the snow in Chang’an finally stopped.

The cold lingered heavily as the snow began to melt. From dawn, the skies were overcast with thousands of miles of yellow clouds. The imperial palace was desolate, almost devoid of human presence.

The Ganlu Hall was deathly silent. The candles had burned out, and no one replaced them, making the room even dimmer. Only the lonely window curtains fluttered in the northern wind. A frail little eunuch crept in cautiously, seeing no guards, and hurriedly pulled out a cloth bundle from his waist to gather whatever he could find. There wasn’t much of value left in this ruined ghost town—all valuable items had been taken to fund the military over the years. Even the gold-painted decorations on doors and windows had been scraped clean. He was too late; the silk curtains had already been mostly cut away.

He managed to collect a few broken porcelain shards, thinking that if he escaped the palace, he could claim they were artifacts from the Linghe era used by Emperor Ruizong. He planned to weave a story involving Consort Zhong to increase their value. Carefully sneaking out of the hall, the vast imperial palace was nearly deserted. Rumors said the southern court’s army had reached the gates, and the renowned Marquis Yingchuan had unexpectedly arrived outside the city walls the previous day. Everyone had fled, except for their pitiful “emperor,” still held hostage on the city wall by the regent king, uncertain how much longer he would live.

The eunuch sighed inwardly, his primary concern still his own survival. Braving the cold wind, he ran into the overgrown imperial garden, searching for a long time before finding a dog hole in the corner. Overjoyed, he bent down, but just as his head entered the hole, a flash of cold light appeared. The next moment, a sharp iron sword pierced his chest, creating a gaping hole. Hot blood splattered onto the bundle he desperately clutched, staining the shards of porcelain that hadn’t yet been imbued with any legendary tales.

“Another one—”

Outside the wall, the soldier holding the blade spat and wiped the blood off his sword on the dead eunuch’s body.

“The regent king said ‘traitors must die,’ yet they still tried to escape the city…”

Pausing, he casually kicked open the bundle the eunuch had been protecting, finding only worthless porcelain shards, which infuriated him further. With a vicious kick, he pushed the corpse aside, cursing, “Bad luck!”