Rupture

Li Yaoxuan turned toward the military array, resolute and decisive, not looking back once. With the death of Imperial Preceptor Ran Jianli, this critical juncture was hardly the time to tear off all pretense completely. On the surface, the Emperor and the Prime Minister needed to band tightly together for the moment to oppose the sects, but the moment Xu Yinhe refused Li Yaoxuan, the bond between them had already ruptured in truth. Treading across the damp grass left in the wake of the rain, Li Yaoxuan walked forward at an unhurried pace. Ahead on the horizon lay the formidable, solemn military array standing at the ready. Approaching a century in age and nearing the twilight of his life, as a man with one foot in the grave, Li Yaoxuan's way of viewing things had long ceased to be naive as in his youth, having grown clear and penetrating. Yet despite pondering thousands of possibilities, he had never imagined that the imperial and prime ministerial factions would ultimately unravel and rupture over the matter of their progeny. In their youth, when the two had shared wine and talked candidly, they had touched on many things. Among them was the observation that Xu Yinhe's attitude toward his own family was not that of a qualified ruler. Men were not inanimate stone or wood; who could truly be devoid of feeling? Li Yaoxuan had not been entirely without the longing to enjoy the warmth of a harmonious family like the Prime Minister's Manor, but the solitary burden of supreme power compelled him to suppress such sentiment. One's own offspring were the continuation of bloodline, the perpetuation of one's existence, and a repository for emotional affection. Yet what every generation of the imperial family faced were peerless figures who had emerged from among hundreds of millions! Without ruthless cultivation, without meticulous conditioning, how could one hope to contend against such people? It was only Xu Yinhe's good fortune that all three of his sons were capable and driven. Otherwise, with the Prime Minister's Manor's style of upbringing, Xu Yinhe would have ruined his own life long ago. After all, this sovereign of Great Yan had still heard a thing or two about the deeds of that adoptive daughter of his outside. Beyond that, those who held power ought to be ruthless by nature, especially a monarch. His every thought was national policy. Any fluctuation in emotion reflected upon state policy would be magnified without end. Fortunately, over the past several decades, though Xu Yinhe loved his sons, he did not shield them blindly. Even when those close to him hung between life and death, he had never issued reckless orders on their behalf. Never had Li Yaoxuan expected that, as his own end drew near, this Prime Minister would hit him with something so monumental. He could not comprehend why Xu Yinhe had suddenly changed his mind. The subtext behind having Xu Yuan disperse his cultivation was that he, Li Yaoxuan, would sweep away all obstacles for Princess Wuyuan's ascension. The imperial clan would put Li Zhaoyuan to death, whereas the Prime Minister's Manor would only need to pay the price of Xu Yuan's cultivation. This was a necessary condition for mutual trust. Only in this way would the imperial faction recognize Li Qingyan's legitimacy, allowing the Emperor and the Prime Minister to continue down the path laid decades ago—eradicating the regional sects and restoring power to the central court! In doing so, Li Yaoxuan was acting to preserve his Li imperial household. Yet if it were truly done entirely for that, how could he have ultimately promised to let this Prime Minister live? The process of purging the sects would inevitably be bloody, inevitably bringing ruin to the common people. Continuing down this path, once the imperial and prime ministerial factions won the war and external pressure was gone, how were the two to coexist? Were two behemoths with entirely disparate interests to ignite a second civil war across an already devastated Great Yan? With the empire's strength sapped at that time, what of Guyuan? What of the Western Desert? And what of those golden-haired devils from across the sea?! Therefore, Great Yan needed Xu Yuan to serve as the bond of peace. With Princess Wuyuan presiding over the imperial family and Xu Changge ruling the Prime Minister's Manor, they would grant the world a breathing space, converting what would have been a second catastrophic hot war engulfing the world into a struggle confined to the inner echelons of Great Yan's highest power. People would die—many would die—but those who perished would no longer be the children of farmers, craftsmen, and merchants, but the princes, dukes, and high nobles of the ruling class. Ministers and lords of both the Emperor and the Prime Minister—Lou Ji, Hua Hong, Marquis Wucheng, Wang Shili—might all die in this high-level power struggle, but at least the common folk below could rest and recover. As for what would become of the third generation—whether they would successfully integrate during this century-long window or grow even more fractured and polarized—such things were simply too distant, no longer within the capacity of an old man nearing his grave to contemplate. And so, still harboring that incomprehension, Li Yaoxuan returned with a stooped back to where the military array stood. Having reached this point, the Northern Hunt could no longer go on. The white deer released as quarry bounded away, vanishing over the horizon; in such a chilling, murderous atmosphere, not a single expert in the army dared leave his post without leave to hunt it down. Looking across the entirety of the Northern Hunt, the sole beneficiary was perhaps this auspicious beast: destined to be slaughtered, it had instead gained its freedom through a bizarre twist of fate. Xu Yinhe remained where he was, unmoving. With the Emperor's mobile palace destroyed, Li Zhaoyuan had arranged a carriage for each of them—the Emperor and the Prime Minister. Regrettably, only the Emperor returned to the military array. Stepping into the carriage, the Emperor showed no intention of waiting, giving a cold, flat command: "Return to the capital." "..." Li Zhaoyuan cast a hesitant glance toward the trench across the battlefield. A thoughtful gleam passed through his starlike eyes, and he bowed his head in assent. As military orders were issued one after another, in less than half an hour and through several shifts in formation, tens of thousands of troops turned in immaculate order and marched south along the official highway in grand, sweeping columns. And until the Dragon Emperor Forest disappeared at the edge of sight, the Emperor did not look back even once. The military array marched onward in massive columns. After entering the carriage, the Emperor said nothing more. In the blue sky, from which the rainclouds had been forcibly dispersed by sheer martial power, the morning sun grew steadily brighter, glinting with a dull sheen off armor. Tens of thousands in the military array escorted the imperial carriage, heading south at a steady, measured pace. Mounted upon a divine demonic steed, Li Zhaoyuan rode alongside the imperial carriage and waited in silence. After an upheaval of this magnitude, his imperial father would very likely have words to impart to him. After traveling over twenty li, a calm, low voice finally drifted from within the imperial carriage: "You should be pleased." "..." This assertion without premise or preamble brought a faint curve to the corner of Li Zhaoyuan's lips. Just as he had anticipated, the talks had broken down. Even through the closed window curtains, the old man inside seemed able to see his son's smile, asking placidly: "Zhaoyuan, it seems you anticipated the outcome of Zhen's discussion with the Chancellor?" Hoofs clattered against the ground. Holding the reins, Li Zhaoyuan replied calmly: "It was somewhat unexpected, but with such an upheaval, one could always surmise a portion." "Heh." With a soft chuckle, Li Yaoxuan leaned back against the cushioned couch inside the carriage, his voice carrying out: "Do you think Zhen originally intended to kill Xu Yinhe here?" Li Zhaoyuan did not deny it, answering briskly: "I did not." A hint of intrigue entered Li Yaoxuan's voice: "Oh? Everyone under heaven took this for a Hongmen banquet, yet you held another view?" Li Zhaoyuan replied calmly: "Against an ordinary Saint, an array of one army—ten thousand men—can hold the line; two armies can slaughter a Saint. But against Prime Minister Xu or you, Imperial Father, even three armies would fall short. To capture and kill either would likely require the strength of five armies, yet this son led only thirty thousand troops on this journey." Li Yaoxuan asked: "And your reasoning?" "Because you are very selfish." "..." Li Zhaoyuan glanced toward the imperial carriage. "Between the imperial clan's greater righteousness and your own self, you would struggle, but in the end..." "Your courage has grown considerably." The voice within the carriage cut him off. Seeing this, Li Zhaoyuan bowed his head in apology: "This son overstepped." Though his thoughts had been laid bare, Li Yaoxuan showed no anger. Instead, he sounded somewhat wistful: "The casual remark Zhen made back then about you taking after your father—now it seems to have been prophetic." Hearing what was clearly praise, Li Zhaoyuan did not simply nod in assent. Instead, he asked: "Imperial Father, will you permit this son to speak candidly?" Li Yaoxuan tapped his fingertip lightly against the wooden frame, producing steady hollow knocks: "You seem not to agree with Zhen, but speak your mind nonetheless." "At our root, this son and you are different. You proactively contend for the realm, whereas my original intention was merely to prove certain things." Things had developed to this stage where many matters no longer needed concealing. Moreover, Li Zhaoyuan knew very well that this imperial father would not allow personal likes or dislikes to influence his ultimate decision. Thus, Li Zhaoyuan spoke with absolute candor, casting a sideways glance toward the Dragon Emperor Forest: "Imperial Father, do you still remember the Guiwei Northern Hunt all those years ago?" "Zhen remembers." "That time, Consort Mother urged me to hide my light under a bushel and not take first place in the hunt, lest it provoke jealousy. Back then, I thought nothing of it, believing the world was fair—that effort would surely bring reward, that the capable would surely rise! But the outcome, you already know: with a single decree from the Empress, Consort Mother and I were sent to guard Hanwei Palace for seven years." Li Zhaoyuan stared at the boundless blue sky ahead, his tone calm yet resolute: "Imperial Father, over the years I have heard many rumors saying that I established my own manor and faction solely to take revenge for the persecution the Empress Mother visited upon Consort Mother and me, and that to ensure we would never be bullied again, I had to climb step by step to the very pinnacle. Do you believe there is truth in those words?" "..." Li Yaoxuan did not answer, merely listening in silence. Receiving no reply for several breaths, Li Zhaoyuan continued, his dark, starlike eyes gleaming with ambition: "This son does not deny it, for I am human, and being human, one feels hatred and resentment. But striving for this realm is not over such trivial grievances. This son simply wishes to prove to the entire world... that effort surely brings reward, and the capable must ascend!" Listening patiently to the end, Li Yaoxuan exhaled a soft breath and asked with a slight laugh: "Yet you are of the imperial bloodline after all. Were you not—" "Then this son would be Prime Minister Xu." "..." Li Yaoxuan was startled. He instinctively turned his head, as if truly seeing this son for the first time. A single reckless order from the Empress had wasted the best seven years of Li Zhaoyuan's life. Even after that, he remained unchanged... After a long silence, he chuckled softly: "Yet whether you inherit the great succession rests, in the end, upon an uncertain whim of another." "Then this son will find a way to turn that uncertain whim into a certainty." "And if you cannot?" "Heh, Imperial Father..." Li Zhaoyuan gave a light laugh, drew a deep breath, and said: "If I lacked the equanimity to accept defeat when gambling, this son would never have embarked upon this road." The fingertip lightly tapping the wooden sill paused. Li Yaoxuan gently drew aside the carriage's closed window curtain: "Could you see clearly what transpired just now?" "..." Li Zhaoyuan's words caught in his throat. The upheaval in Di'an had been reported via sound transmission. The eruption and conclusion of the battle had felt sudden even to Li Yaoxuan, to say nothing of Li Zhaoyuan, who had received no such transmission. "Did you secretly study the military array?" Before he could deliberate, the aloof question came from within the carriage once more. Yet Li Zhaoyuan replied with candid ease: "Naturally. The foundation of the imperial dynasty's realm is the military array. If I did not understand military arrays, how could this son have reached where I stand today?" "..." A silence fell over the imperial carriage, leaving only the steady clatter of hooves. Long after, when the army had marched dozens of li further, Li Yaoxuan's faint, distant voice drifted out from the carriage once again: "Zhaoyuan... have you ever harbored the thought of regicide?" "..." The question took Li Zhaoyuan by surprise. For a moment, he did not know how to respond. A sovereign was meant to be unfeeling, untouched by worldly joy or grief. Though this imperial father was nearing his end, this question was still far too treasonous. To confess to his face that one wanted to kill him? "You heard, yet you do not answer?" Glancing at the profile of his son, Li Yaoxuan remarked casually: "Xu Yinhe said earlier that if you harbored the thought of slaying both Emperor and Chancellor here, Zhen would be very gratified. And Zhen thought so as well." Li Zhaoyuan was silent for several breaths. He turned his gaze back, meeting those withered, silent eyes with utmost gravity: "Imperial Father, this son is merely the child of a palace maid, and I wasted the best seven years of my life." "Is that so..." Meeting his gaze for a moment, Li Yaoxuan gave a smiling nod, then sighed as his wrinkles quivered faintly: "To have come to this point, Zhen has only himself to blame..." Speaking, he slowly withdrew his gaze, and the window curtain of the imperial carriage drew shut once more. Yet Li Zhaoyuan did not pull his eyes away from the carriage. The turning of wagon wheels, the pounding of hooves, the cries of soaring birds, and all the sounds of that massive military array seemed to fall into stillness at this moment. Then, the Emperor's steady voice drifted from within the cabin: "Zhaoyuan, enter the capital. "Furthermore, "once you return, throw away those haphazard military array arts of yours. "If you are to practice... "practice our imperial clan's sacred art."