A Sigh

Amid laughter, Li Zhaoyuan dispersed the arts circulating through his body. The Prime Minister's Manor's mutiny tonight had struck with overwhelming force. Even with preparations in place, the battle of Di'an was destined to end in the imperial clan's defeat. The only reason he had held out this long was the thought that even if he died, Li Qingyan would take up the banner of the Great Yan imperial clan. At that time, under the crushing pressure of the Prime Minister's Manor's rebellion, the shackles that had once barred Li Qingyan from ascending the throne would be shattered. The imperial factions would unite unimpeded around this imperial princess of high military renown, elevating her to the supreme seat. Yet now, that very reason had surrendered before the battle was even fought. Naturally, Li Zhaoyuan had lost all drive to keep fighting. Still, before he died, he really wanted to ask what that imperial sister of his had been thinking. Joining forces with Xu Changtian to execute him on grounds of suppressing rebellion and exposing forged decrees—she could indeed take the throne by virtue of her military prestige and direct imperial bloodline, continuing their cooperation with the Prime Minister's Manor. But at the same time, the shackles that had once restricted her ascension would all return. Marquis Wucheng's Manor might not object, but among the heavyweights of the imperial faction, Marquis Wucheng was not the only one, nor was he the only one holding military power. How could those men ever easily accept the bedmate of the Xu clan's master ascending the imperial throne? This was an irreconcilable contradiction. If she wanted to consolidate power, killing was the only way— and once she started killing, it would have to be an entire faction purged from top to bottom. Without those people, what would she use to contend against the Prime Minister's Manor? Don't talk about how Xu Changtian had no ambition for the throne. Once he reached that position, once the moment arrived, once his prestige reached such heights— even if he didn't want to sit upon it, he would inevitably be pushed onto it! Great Yan's thousand-year dynasty would ultimately end in a heavy sigh. The night deepened. With Li Qingyan's arrival, the intensity of the fighting across Di'an gradually subsided. The two most elite armies of the Great Yan court began pulling back from the heart of the battlefield in waves. The Imperial Guard marched north; the Black Scales moved south. Before Weiyang Palace, swirling snow quickly blanketed the ruins in front of the courtyard. Li Zhaoyuan watched the man treading across the snow toward him. The imperial sword in his hand rippled with a chilling gleam. Reversing his grip on the blade, he offered the hilt to the man as he drew near. Victory and defeat were decided; this was the dignity he preserved for himself. Xu Yuan looked at Li Zhaoyuan, who stood before him prepared to die. In silence, he grasped the proffered hilt, only to find the hand gripping the blade still clenching tightly. Raising his gaze slightly, he saw the unwillingness deep within the other's eyes. In the end, he was unwilling after all. Li Zhaoyuan looked at this man who had stood atop the clouds since birth and asked, "Xu Changtian, what did I do wrong?" Xu Yuan was silent for a moment, then whispered calmly, "You did nothing wrong. From your position, everything you did was near perfection. But unfortunately, I see no possibility of the future in you." Li Zhaoyuan and Xu Yuan lacked the bond of the previous Emperor and Chancellor, who had bestridden the realm side by side for decades. Yet at this moment, Li Zhaoyuan still understood the meaning behind his words. This made his grip on the blade tighten further. Blood from his palm ran silently down the edge of the imperial blade, dripping onto the accumulated snow and blooming into patches of crimson. Li Zhaoyuan asked in a heavy voice, "Have you found an ambition that surpasses Chancellor Xu's ideals?" "Yes." "What is it?" "Enlighten the common people, impart the Dao to all under heaven." "Heh... The previous generation was already doing that." "I mean everyone." "..." Li Zhaoyuan started slightly, his gaze turning strange. "You're mad." Xu Yuan neither agreed nor denied it. "Perhaps." Li Zhaoyuan took a deep breath, staring fixedly at Xu Yuan. "I am serious. If you grant those commoners cultivation and bestow upon them knowledge, they will not be grateful. They will only take it for granted and then greedily demand even more from you." Xu Yuan smiled softly. "Yes, I know. But that will be an immortal dynasty on earth." Li Zhaoyuan swiftly worked out the implications of such a future in his mind. "Though the people are insignificant, together they possess great strength. When this upheaval reaches a certain point, those commoners will turn the very things you gave them against you. How will you face yourself then?" Hearing this question, Xu Yuan smiled and gave the answer he had long pondered: "If those who rise against me can present a new order that convinces me... "Then I believe "I will welcome that day with a smile." "..." Li Zhaoyuan released the blade and took an involuntary half-step back. He looked at Xu Yuan as if looking at a monster, his heart unconsciously quickening. He did not even notice the blood dripping from his fingertips into the snow. After an unknown span of time, Li Zhaoyuan finally said in a faint, wistful voice, "The future you describe actually tempts me, Xu Changtian." Xu Yuan fully took the imperial blade from his hand, wiped the blood from it with his sleeve, and replied flatly, "Who wouldn't be tempted by such a future?" "In truth, you could have spoken to me. I have always been searching for a future." "Aside from this moment, do you think I could ever say it aloud?" "True enough." Li Zhaoyuan sighed softly and said slowly, "Once spoken, let alone others, even the closest senior leaders of your own Prime Minister's Manor would turn against you. You would be digging up their very roots. "However... "This still cannot justify the immense risk you took in inciting internal rebellion at such a critical juncture. "Tonight's rebellion—the slightest misstep would mean total doom. Forget realizing your ideal; even the deeds the previous Emperor and Chancellor wished to accomplish would go up in flames." Xu Yuan was quiet for a moment, then whispered, "Heaven's Will is descending. Right here in Di'an." Hearing this, Li Zhaoyuan's expression cleared in an instant. "If It descends, It must be to slay you, the tribulation. You truly could not trust me—and I truly was not worthy of trust." With those words, both men before Weiyang Palace fell into silence. Yet it lasted only a brief moment. Li Zhaoyuan smiled and said, "Do it." "Mm." Xu Yuan nodded. Raising the imperial sword level, he slowly thrust it into the chest of the man before him. Spilling blood instantly dyed his python robes red. Xu Yuan attached no techniques to the strike. Li Zhaoyuan circulated no cultivation art to heal his wound. Accepting defeat when the wager was lost—in this life, victory and defeat no longer mattered to him. Feeling his vitality draining rapidly away, Li Zhaoyuan looked at the man before him and asked with a trace of hope, "You want a future—I grant you that. Tell me, if we had met in another place, under different identities, might the outcome today have been different?" Xu Yuan pondered the question seriously for a moment, then finally shook his head. "Across the ages, how many pairs like the Jiajing Emperor and Chancellor could this world ever produce?" With the imperial sword lodged in his chest, Li Zhaoyuan collapsed uncontrollably to his knees in the snow before Weiyang Palace. Snow dusted his black hair as he lowered his eyes, murmuring softly, "True enough. What a pity." "Mm." Xu Yuan gave Li Zhaoyuan a final pat on the shoulder, then brushed past him indifferently, turning his back on Weiyang Palace atop the mountain summit and heading down. Any distaste Xu Yuan held for him had long since faded as Li Zhaoyuan ascended to the supreme seat. Li Zhaoyuan's life was a tragedy. Much of his vision had already transcended the limits of his era. In this extraordinary world, he could see that though the people were humble and weak, united they possessed formidable strength. Under his command, the No-Return Army had achieved the feat of never troubling the populace along their path, a rarity in this feudal imperial dynasty. Li Zhaoyuan's talent, Li Zhaoyuan's capacity, everything that was Li Zhaoyuan should not have ended tonight. Yet the constraints of the era, and the way the late emperor had groomed him, had ultimately bound this man who had crawled his way up from hell. Forty-eighth year of Jiajing, the sixth day of the second month: Crown Prince Yuan passed away of illness. The court ministers memorialized Imperial Princess Yan to succeed him, and the coronation ceremony for the new sovereign was postponed by seven days.