Lu Bing's incoherent words and slurred speech, along with the twitching at the corner of his mouth, caught the attention of the Jiajing Emperor.
"Your..." Lu Bing reached out, placing a hand on the Jiajing Emperor's shoulder. He strained his lips, exerting all his strength, but could not utter another word.
Leaning against the Jiajing Emperor, Lu Bing was on the verge of collapse. Huang Jin, who was accompanying the emperor, hurried over to support Lu Bing, preventing him from touching the imperial body.
"Don't interfere—go fetch the imperial physician immediately!" the Jiajing Emperor exclaimed, holding Lu Bing with both arms and helping him lie down on the couch. Only when he held him did the emperor realize that his milk brother was actually thinner than him. "Milk brother, what's wrong? Where does it hurt?"
It had always been Lu Bing who saved him—rescuing him from the fire in his temporary palace, saving him from the white silk in the hands of the palace maids. Milk brother had always been his sturdiest armor, charging into battle and braving all dangers for him. But today, milk brother could no longer carry him; instead, he was holding his collapsed milk brother.
However, Lu Bing could no longer respond. His entire body began to convulse involuntarily. Fearing he might bite his tongue, the Jiajing Emperor, in a moment of desperation, placed his finger vertically into Lu Bing's mouth, letting him bite down. "Milk brother! You must hold on—the imperial physician will be here soon!"
Lu Bing immediately bit the Jiajing Emperor's finger until it bled, his body writhing so violently that he nearly struggled off the couch. The Jiajing Emperor, unable to restrain him alone, shouted at the stunned Lan Daohang, "What are you standing there for? Hurry and help hold him down!"
Lan Daohang knelt before the bed, tightly clutching Lu Bing's legs, and murmured, "Your Majesty, this has nothing to do with me. I've been refining elixirs for so many years without any incidents. Lord Lu's sudden illness is not related to me!"
His words only aroused the Jiajing Emperor's suspicion. "You mentioned recently improving the elixir formula—what exactly did you add to it?"
Lan Daohang's voice trembled as he replied, "Just some substances to invigorate yang and nourish the kidneys—all beneficial ingredients! If Your Majesty doesn't believe me, I will personally test the elixir. Lord Lu took two pills; I will take two as well."
Lan Daohang picked up two pills and swallowed them with water. "Your Majesty, see? I am fine, only feeling a warmth spreading through my body."
At that moment, Huang Jin returned with the head of the Imperial Hospital and several skilled physicians. Upon observing Lu Bing's symptoms, the physicians unanimously concluded, "This is not poisoning—it's a stroke."
The physicians quickly began acupuncture to save Lu Bing. The Jiajing Emperor urgently explained, "Milk brother fell ill suddenly after taking this elixir."
The physicians exchanged glances. As doctors, they knew well that elixirs were slow-acting poisons, but the emperor believed in them fervently, and they dared not speak out. To do so would offend the Taoists favored by the emperor.
If the Taoists whispered a few words in front of the emperor, the physicians would lose their heads.
Yet, seeing the usually ethereal Blue Immortal kneeling on the ground, trembling with fear, the physicians secretly rejoiced: You've finally met your match!
Imperial Physician Song, who knew of Lu Bing's history of strokes, said, "Let me see the elixir formula."
The Blue Immortal brought the formula, repeatedly explaining, "Lord Lu has taken my elixirs several times before without any issues."
Imperial Physician Song examined the formula—ephedra, deer antler, dodder seeds, and other potent stimulants and yang-invigorating substances—and immediately identified the cause. "These ingredients are harmless to ordinary men, but for someone with a history of strokes, consuming them is like taking arsenic. It can induce a stroke."This stuff is more potent than liquor!
"Apoplexy?" Lan Daohang froze. "This humble Taoist knew nothing of Lord Lu's hidden ailment. Had I known, I would never have dared give him the elixir."
The Jiajing Emperor was also puzzled - how could such a serious condition as apoplexy never have been mentioned by his milk-brother?
Just then, Lu Bing's personal guards arrived upon hearing the news and knelt weeping: "Your Majesty, our lord has indeed suffered several apoplexy attacks. But he feared worrying Your Majesty, so he concealed his condition and forced himself to carry out his duties with vigor."
Seeing the truth could no longer be hidden, Imperial Physician Song also knelt and said: "Lord Lu's first attack was in early summer. I have been treating his apoplexy all along. Though he recovered well, I repeatedly warned him against drinking, staying up late, and overexerting himself. Yet despite all precautions, we never expected Lan Daohang would alter the elixir formula, adding far too many potent ingredients forbidden for apoplexy patients."
Hearing this, the Jiajing Emperor first flew into a rage, kicking Lan Daohang across the room, then was overwhelmed by torrents of guilt and fear. He couldn't imagine life without his milk-brother.
He grabbed Physician Song by the collar and dragged him toward the sickbed. "You've saved him several times before - you can save him now too, right?"
Physician Song broke out in cold sweat. "I cannot be certain, Your Majesty."
"Don't say 'no' before your emperor! Save him now!"
"As for you..." The emperor glared at Lan Daohang cowering in the corner. The more he had trusted and even revered this Taoist who claimed to help him achieve immortality, the more rat-faced and repulsive the man now appeared.
The emperor said coldly: "Huang Jin, throw him into the Eastern Depot prison. Confiscate his property and interrogate him thoroughly. He must have added forbidden substances to the elixir - certainly more than what's listed in the formula."
His milk-brother absolutely could not have died from drugs meant to enhance the emperor's virility.
It wasn't the emperor who killed his milk-brother. It wasn't!
Huang Jin, who also served as Chief of the Eastern Depot, grew deeply concerned seeing the emperor's distraught state. Fearful something might happen to the emperor, he dared not leave his side, instead ordering his subordinates: "...Find more reliable men. Turn everything upside down and search thoroughly."
Overnight, Lan Daohang fell from divine status to become a prisoner.
When the Eastern Depot searched his home, they indeed made startling discoveries!
Two "Dark Spectres" coated with fluorescent powder were kept in the basement, nearly frightening the Eastern Depot agents out of their wits. They also found black hallucinogenic smoke in his alchemy laboratory - substances often associated with Dark Spectres.
So the Dark Spectre in Yunde Palace had been Lan Daohang's inside job all along, staging a grand drama of exorcism.
With conclusive evidence, Huang Jin immediately interrogated Lan Daohang. After just a dozen lashes, before even applying hot irons, Lan Daohang couldn't endure the pain and confessed everything about using artificial Dark Spectres to frighten Consort Shang and more, begging for a quick death.
He had been raising these two creatures planning to release them in the capital during New Year, terrifying the common people before stepping forward to slay the monsters, thereby deceiving public worship and enhancing his "immortal" reputation.
By dusk, the Jiajing Emperor still hadn't eaten a single grain, sitting watchfully as the imperial physicians struggled to save Lu Bing.
Huang Jin presented the confession to the emperor.
Every word glared mockingly, jeering at the emperor for trusting the wrong person, causing his milk-brother to take the wrong medicine, and even terrifying his favored consort.Each word struck the Jiajing Emperor’s face like a slap, the pain searing straight to his heart.
Furious, the emperor crumpled the confession in his hand. "After all he has done, he still dares to beg for a swift death? Sentence this sorcerer to death by a thousand cuts. He must not die until the final slice is made."
The Jiajing Emperor vented all his rage and guilt upon Lan Daohang.
Lan Daohang was like a cultivator who sought rapid advancement through heinous means, only to succumb to demonic backlash and meet a gruesome end—just as in his previous life, he was executed by dismemberment.
And this time, it happened three years earlier.
Lan Daohang was dragged away to be dismembered, his death offered as a sacrifice to heaven. Yet it did nothing to improve Lu Bing’s condition—he was already suffering his fourth stroke.
The bitter cold congealed the blood, and stroke sufferers, already vulnerable to chill, often relapsed in winter. To preserve his health, Lu Bing usually remained in spring-like warmth indoors. But a few days prior, the Jiajing Emperor had ordered him to select two thousand robust men to serve as guards for Prince Yu’s residence.
Lu Bing, ever diligent and responsible, had dragged his ailing body to the training ground to personally oversee the selection trials among the twelve guards. Despite the howling north wind, no matter how thick his robes or how warm the hand stove he clutched to his chest, it was never enough. Repeatedly, Lu Ying had urged him to retreat to a tent for warmth.
After enduring the cold, Lu Bing’s body grew increasingly unwell. The potent, reckless medicine prescribed by Lan Daohang then triggered his fourth stroke.
The imperial physicians exerted their utmost efforts, yet Lu Bing showed no sign of improvement. He no longer convulsed, but lay still as a lifeless corpse, his limbs beginning to swell.
The Jiajing Emperor wiped away the drool that had unintentionally trickled from Lu Bing’s mouth with a handkerchief. His milk brother’s lips were slightly twisted to the left. The once mighty, ever-silent guardian who had always stood behind him now lay before him as fragile and helpless as an infant.
"Your Majesty, please eat something. You must keep up your strength to care for Lord Lu," Huang Jin urged for the sixth time, offering a bowl of bird’s nest porridge.
At fifty-three, the emperor was dizzy and seeing spots. Mechanically, he finished the porridge and said, "My milk brother remains unconscious. He does not respond when I speak to him. Summon Lu Ying to the palace—she is his most beloved child. Let her try."
Huang Jin acknowledged the order and added, "Your Majesty, I heard from Imperial Physician Song that after Lord Lu’s second stroke, it was only thanks to Doctor Wei’s prompt treatment that he survived this long. Should we summon her to the palace as well?"
Desperation breeds rash decisions. Though the emperor normally disdained female physicians, seeing Lu Bing in this vegetative state, he would have summoned even a dog if he heard it could heal. "Bring her to the palace as well," he commanded.
It was Laba Festival, a time for family reunions and sharing Laba congee. "Little child, don’t be greedy—after Laba, the New Year is near." Once the twelfth lunar month arrived, preparations for the New Year festivities began.
For Lu Ying, however, every holiday was a reminder of her unmarried status—a recurring theme of familial pressure. This year, her father had left for the palace early and had not returned. With the family awaiting the master’s return for the festival, they had nothing better to do than pester her about marriage. Just as Lu Ying was growing weary of their nagging, a palace messenger arrived, summoning her to the imperial court.
Why would Lu Bing not return home and instead call his daughter to the palace? The Lu family felt a vague unease. They lavished the messenger with generous rewards but could pry no information from him.After all, Lu Bing was a pillar of the state, commanding the Embroidered Uniform Guard. The news of his sudden illness was top secret and could not be publicly disclosed.
Lu Ying entered the palace with suspicion.
Meanwhile, in Sweet Water Lane of the Northern City:
Wang Daxia hastily finished a bowl of laba porridge during a family banquet before rushing to his neighbor's home for the holiday celebration. Wei Caiwei had prepared hotpot for the occasion, and just as the beef in the pot finished cooking, envoys from the Directorate of Ceremonial arrived to summon her.
Wang Daxia set down his chopsticks. "I'll accompany you."
Since the Qionghua Island incident, Wang Daxia had become notorious within the palace as a "troublemaker." The eunuch quickly interjected, "Without summons, outsiders cannot enter the palace. The Directorate only summoned Doctor Wei."
"I won't go inside—I'll just escort her to the Xi'an Gate," Wang Daxia insisted. On this important holiday, he didn't want Caiwei to go alone. Having lost her entire family so tragically, he hoped to bring warmth to her remaining years.
At the Xi'an Gate, they encountered Lu Ying who was rushing to the Forbidden City. Seeing Wang Daxia, Lu Ying's anxious heart suddenly calmed. This comrade who had faced life-and-death situations with her gave her inexplicable reassurance. "He's my subordinate. I need him to enter the palace with me."
Lu Ying's authority prevailed where others might have failed. The Directorate of Ceremonial could only turn a blind eye and agree. Thus the three companions reunited, heading together toward the Western Park.
Author's Note: To readers visiting Sanlitun bars in Beijing—if you have a moment, raise a glass to our Uncle Bing. He rests eternally there, surrounded by nightly revelry, never lonely. We all find it hard to let Uncle Bing go, myself included. Writing about his fourth stroke reminded me of Ji Shao's death in "How Charming the Great Jin Is" earlier this year, where readers also pleaded for Minister Ji's life. However, first, major historical events cannot be arbitrarily altered, and second, both characters' deaths were foreshadowed early on—like the mention of Lu Bing's burial site in the very first chapter of this book. Their endings align with their characterizations and story logic. Thus, just as "This is Minister Ji's blood, do not wipe it away" inevitably occurred, Lu Bing's sudden death follows the same pattern—different processes, same outcome.
Eaglets must eventually stumble through learning to fly alone. No one ever faces growth with perfect preparation—it usually happens when least expected.
OpenNovel