The wind and snow grew mute, and heaven and earth lost all color. The rings of time turned silently. Unnoticed, the corpse cradled in his arms had lost its warmth. Shadows flickered and blurred across the Buddhist hall, the draperies hanging from the high beams dancing in the wind. His entire world began to spin. The Buddha’s compassionate countenance twisted into a ferocious glare, and the biting chill of the world surged back over him like a tidal wave.
Li Zhaoyuan heard the northern wind whipping up the snow outside the window. He heard the vast majesty of imperial might prostrating itself beneath his feet. Yet as the candlelight flickered out after catching the fine wrinkles at the corners of her smiling eyes, his mother’s final breath seemed to brush past his ear once more—still the tunes of the Western Desert she had hummed to him in his childhood.
He began to waver. He felt an urge to roar, to flee heedless of everything, to obliterate all that surrounded him.
Yet even as turbulent thoughts surged within his heart, he remained seated, motionless.
Because...
"He is watching."
Time flowed in soundless stillness.
He held his mother, just as his mother had once held him before that cold palace's funerary hall.
Time passed without a sound. Looking beyond the Buddhist hall, he saw the wind and snow cease. He saw days and nights trade places. He saw a black eagle bearing a magnificent palace take flight from the south of Di'an City on a southern tour, and the youth clad in blood-red robes standing within.
Now, he would never need to look up at that man again.
Yet in a daze, he seemed to hear that family's reluctance to part, the joyful warmth of their reunion before the farewell.
Li Zhaoyuan did not know when he had walked out of that Buddhist hall, nor how he had arrived before the palace gates of supreme power clad in formal regalia. He only knew that his expression must be very calm right now—just as calm as when he had brought ruin to the hundreds of millions of households in the Northern Border.
He was that sort of man. He had always been.
Why he had become such a man, he did not know.
Yet... why had he?
The iron wind chimes under the eaves of Weiyang Palace chimed sharply in the northern wind. Gazing at the coiled Bian beast heads upon the vermilion palace gates, Li Zhaoyuan silently crushed the last patch of lingering snow before the hall and stepped inside.
"You are here..."
The voice from his memories echoed from the dim, hushed depths of the hall. Laced with an even, frail rasp, it pierced Li Zhaoyuan’s ears, causing his hand to reflexively press against the hilt of his sword at his waist.
Li Zhaoyuan knew he could not do this, but his body had acted ahead of his consciousness.
"Do you hate Zhen?"
The frail voice held no surprise, drifting out once more from the murky darkness, tinged with a relaxed smile. "Consort Qin was the starting point of your journey on this path, and it is only fitting that she serves as its end... A consummation for her, in a way. Thus, Zhen permits you to lay the blame for her death upon Zhen."
"Your son would not dare."
His calm voice echoed through the chill, desolate hall. The hem of his python robe swept across the floor as Li Zhaoyuan released his grip on the sword hilt and knelt toward the darkness.
On either side of the hall, flames flickered upon bronze lamp trees, splintering Li Zhaoyuan's shadow into fragments. The polished, gilded stone floor reflected it all, so that as he bowed his head, he felt as though he were gazing upon his own shattered soul.
"What is there not to dare?"
The voice from the dragon throne rolled down like gravel wrapped in ice. "Never mind. Since you do not dare, Zhen would like to ask instead: what did you do in that Buddhist hall ten days ago?"
Li Zhaoyuan’s lips quivered faintly. His forehead rested against the floor, his voice flat.
"I sent Consort Mother to the Western Paradise of Ultimate Bliss."
"Ultimate Bliss?"
"Consort Mother's temperament was ill-suited for the imperial clan."
"Oh? Ill-suited, so death suited her better?"
Li Yaoxuan seemed mildly surprised by such an explanation. He set down his vermilion brush, the characters on the memorial shining red as blood, and chuckled. "An amusing notion. Then go on, tell Zhen: which hand did you use to help her on her way to Ultimate Bliss?"
"..."
Li Zhaoyuan's pupils contracted sharply. The metallic taste of blood welled slowly in his throat. In an instant, his mind was dragged back to that exact moment. His voice was hoarse yet calm.
"...Answering Imperial Father: my right hand."
"Heh."
The emperor in the darkness seemed to rise to his feet. A draft suddenly rushed through the grim, chilly hall, lifting all twelve dragon-and-python hangings at once.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Footsteps that felt as though they trod directly on the heart drew near from afar.
Li Yaoxuan stepped out of the dim shadows and looked down at his kneeling son. His dark eyes were devoid of any emotion, yet his voice carried a teasing note:
"Did you shed tears?"
"I did not."
"Did your hand tremble?"
"It trembled when the sword was drawn."
Li Yaoxuan finally arrived right before him, the nine-tasseled jade pendants at his waist clattering like shattering gemstones. Crouching before Li Zhaoyuan, his aged fingers clamped onto his son's chin. Word by word, his voice fell heavy as thunder from the highest heavens:
"Come. Look into Zhen's eyes and say it again. Did it tremble?"
"..."
The candlelight flickered. In the sovereign's pupils, Li Zhaoyuan saw his own bloodstained reflection. That blood was scabbing over, creeping across his entire body like cursed markings.
He suddenly recalled the year he had taken first place in the Guiwei Northern Hunt. Amidst the wind fluttering the banners, this imperial father had guided his hands to shoot and kill an auspicious snow stag, saying to him:
[Yuan'er, you are exceptional, and Zhen is very fond of you. But this world is unjust. If you wish to obtain certain things, you must pay a far greater price than others. In this, Imperial Father cannot help you.]
[In a monarch's eyes, there is only the realm, never personal feeling.]
Thinking of those words, Li Zhaoyuan suddenly smiled.
His eyes turned as pitch-black as the emperor's.
"Your son said, it did not tremble."
"Hahahahahaha!!"
Li Yaoxuan laughed as well. His laughter shook the rafters, sending dust drifting down. Satisfied, he released his grip, turned, and walked back to the imperial desk. He retrieved a gilded coffer from a curio stand. As a sliver of light fell across it, the imperial decree within shone in blinding, bright yellow. Taking it out, he spoke:
"Get up from your knees. Ordinary commoners do not understand why the imperial clan always refers to themselves as 'the Solitary' and 'the Bereft.' They sum up our feelings with the trite saying, 'None is more heartless than the imperial house.' It is foolish, yet it is also what we wish to see, for in their entire lives they will never taste what power truly is. To claim solitude and sovereignty from the supreme throne is the solitude of power, the isolation of the realm. If you wish to inherit all of this, you must sever your humanity."
Li Zhaoyuan stared at the blank decree with dark eyes, remaining silent.
Li Yaoxuan glanced at him, his brow furrowing slightly.
"You still seem to disagree. Let Zhen guess... Ah, of course, Zhen almost forgot. This land of Great Yan has another emperor. You are wondering about the Prime Minister's Manor—you are comparing them to our imperial clan, are you not?"
A raven's shadow swept past the window lattice, the crisp snap of its wings shattering icicles striking an eerie note. Li Zhaoyuan still did not speak.
Li Yaoxuan took the inkstone and began grinding ink, his words sounding as though he were answering his own questions:
"Xu Yinhe is a very strange man. Zhen has known him and joined hands with him, walked alongside him and played chess against him for a lifetime, yet Zhen has never understood why he treats his children with such affection. After all, in his youth, he was hardly such a person."
Having said that, Li Yaoxuan seemed to recall some hilarious tale. He lifted his turbid, dark eyes to glance at the future Son of Heaven before the hall.
"Zhaoyuan, do you know? This Prime Minister Xu of Zhen's personally hounded his elder brothers to death when he was merely a boy in primary schooling. He placed his own parents under house arrest, and once he held absolute control over the Xu family, just like you, he sent his parents to Ultimate Bliss.
"How absurd. A man cold-blooded to the absolute extreme had a sudden transformation after siring children, turning into a good father and a good husband. At first, Zhen thought he did so to keep Zhen from harboring suspicions—that he intentionally displayed weaknesses to tell Zhen that he, Xu Yinhe, was merely a meteor streaking across the sky of Great Yan, while the rising sun of Great Yan would forever remain our Li imperial clan. But during the previous Northern Hunt, Zhen realized Zhen was wrong.
"That fellow is serious about it...
"Zhen cannot fathom it. Zhen truly cannot fathom it."
Having said this, Li Yaoxuan shook his head and continued:
"Zhaoyuan, Zhen is very fond of a line Xu Changtian once spoke: 'An imperial dynasty is merely an instrument of the ruling class.' Though Zhen does not know where that brat got such profound insight, Zhen agrees wholeheartedly.
"Xu Yinhe and Zhen inaugurated the Governance of Jiajing for the peace and prosperity of the world, but also because this instrument was slipping from the grasp of our Li imperial house. Now that the great tide is rising, Zhen has little time left to live, so this matter can only be entrusted to your hands.
"How to accomplish it, and whether you can do it well, is not something Zhen will live to see after Zhen passes. But Zhen can give you some advice.
"The Sect Alliance is the first target to be eradicated. This world can no longer bear the dregs and remnants of that old era. Yet the realm cannot endure two great wars, so against the Prime Minister's Manor, wage it through political struggle. Xu Yinhe's change has left the Chancellor's Manor with far, far too many vulnerabilities. After Zhen passes, go to the imperial study. There, you will find a secret volume Zhen has left for the new emperor."
With that, Li Yaoxuan placed a cinnabar brush upon the prepared inkstone and asked:
"This testamentary edict of succession—shall Zhen write it, or will you do it yourself?"
The hall fell abruptly into dead silence.
The scent of ambergris and sandalwood grew thicker, lingering between the pillars and beams of Weiyang Palace. Inhaled at this moment, it carried a bizarre, bloody tang.
Li Zhaoyuan walked forward soundlessly, but halfway there, he suddenly halted in his tracks.
Li Yaoxuan was patient. Having waited for so long, this brief moment made no difference.
Amidst the dead silence, Li Zhaoyuan said slowly:
"Your son has a few matters he does not understand, and begs Imperial Father for answers."
Li Yaoxuan leaned back sideways into the dragon throne, resting his temple on his hand, and uttered a single word:
"Ask."
"In your lifetime, how many testamentary edicts did you draft in total?"
"Oh? An intriguing question."
Li Yaoxuan’s voice was low, carrying a faint trace of excitement. "Do you intend to execute those named in Zhen's decrees?"
"I beg Imperial Father to answer."
"Three."
"Three?"
"You, the Crown Prince, and Xu Yinhe."
"..."
The moment Li Zhaoyuan heard that last name, his pupils shrank violently. He stared at the man behind the imperial desk as though looking at a monster.
Li Yaoxuan, however, said unconcernedly:
"Over twenty years ago, Zhen originally thought Zhen would not live long, so Zhen drafted an edict intending to entrust the young heir and the state to Chancellor Xu. Is that so difficult for you to understand?"
Li Zhaoyuan bowed.
"Your son understands."
"And the remaining questions?"
"There is no need to ask. Your son already has his answers."
"..."
Li Yaoxuan narrowed his eyes, lightly tapping his temple with an index finger as he pondered his son's words. When he deduced what Li Zhaoyuan had intended to ask, he let out an involuntary scoff:
"Do not be impatient. Before Zhen passes, Zhen will handle it."
Li Zhaoyuan stepped forward slowly, picked up the cinnabar brush from the inkstone, and lowered his gaze, murmuring softly:
"I hope Imperial Father will not hesitate—just as you would not permit your son to hesitate."
"The son turns around to lecture the father. Turning heaven and earth upside down, are we?"
Though he said this, Li Yaoxuan showed no anger.
He naturally knew what Li Zhaoyuan was asking.
Li Zhaoyuan was asking whether this emperor still harbored personal sentiment.
He was also reminding him that since the Son of Heaven must be heartless, Li Yaoxuan should not waver for any so-called vision or camaraderie in shared ideals.
After a brief silence, watching the tip of the new Crown Prince's brush pause over the testamentary edict, Li Yaoxuan chuckled and said:
"Zhen's own affairs do not require the concern of you, the future Son of Heaven. Just do what you ought to do."
The paused brush resumed. Li Zhaoyuan bowed his head, writing out his path to the heavens, his voice calm and matter-of-fact:
"Your son requires a location."
"Do what you ought to do."
"Your son requires a location," Li Zhaoyuan repeated.
"..."
Li Yaoxuan was irritated, but that irritation ultimately turned into gratification. He rose from the dragon throne, glanced at the python-robed youth bent over writing the edict, and smiled with calm relief:
"Come, sit and write, new Emperor of Great Yan."
Li Zhaoyuan froze for an instant, staring at the aged, decrepit Emperor of Great Yan:
"Imperial Father... what are you doing?"
Li Yaoxuan stood tall, brilliant light bursting from his eyes. Immense Source Qi erupted from his body, condensing into an imperial seal that inscribed a line with a location name at the end of the edict:
"Though only we two, father and son, are here, the transition between new emperor and old still warrants a touch of ceremony.
"Even so, yielding the throne like this is far too modest... In Zhen's imagination, Zhaoyuan, you ought to have followed Zhen's past example, concluding this long struggle for succession with patricide."
"..."
Li Zhaoyuan did not utter a word, merely taking silent steps upward.
The flames on the bronze lamp trees to either side flickered as though bowing in reverence.
Li Yaoxuan turned his back to the dragon throne and walked toward the outside of Weiyang Palace, his footsteps brushing past the new emperor ascending toward the throne.
With every step, his stooped frame was forcibly pulled taller.
With every step, the wrinkles upon his face smoothed away.
By the time the icy wind blew open the carved palace doors, swirling snow into the hall, the decrepit, weathered old man was no more; in his place stood the once dashing, divine Emperor of Great Yan.
Standing beneath Weiyang Palace, Li Yaoxuan said slowly to the new emperor behind him:
"It is just a pity that, as you reminded Zhen, Zhen still has unfinished business, and thus cannot die at your hands."
With that,
the Imperial Heirloom Seal on the desk tilted forward and pressed down, stamping a brilliant crimson imprint onto the blank space of the testamentary edict.
Hum——
The surging gale stirred by a boundless qi dynamic shattered icicles, and anomalies began to manifest as a vortex piercing the heavens gradually formed atop Nine Dragons Mountain.
The boundless, freezing wind whipped up Li Yaoxuan’s still-withered white hair, revealing beneath it those blazing dark eyes gazing toward the Prime Minister's Manor:
"Chancellor, it is finally time for the curtain to fall on you and Zhen."
Chapter 763