Love Beyond the Grave

What happened in Danzhi back then was almost identically replayed in Great Liang. Currently, the most likely candidates to become Crown Prince—or the next Emperor—are Prince Su Han Mingli and Prince Ji Han Mingcheng. Due to the rebellion of the deposed Crown Prince, the succession issue has become the Emperor's greatest concern, and he has been delaying the matter for years.

Now that the Emperor has fallen unconscious, most officials don't know whether he is alive or dead. Prince Su took the first step to control the palace, while Prince Ji simply surrounded the Southern Capital. A storm of bloodshed is imminent—brothers fighting and fathers and sons turning against each other are nothing new in the imperial family.

Duan Xu folded his hands under his chin and asked, "What about Xianye?"

"News from the Southern Capital is blocked; nothing can get out now," Chen Ying replied, looking at the note.

He raised his eyes to Duan Xu and said, "Sister Luo Xian also mentioned that before Prince Ji surrounded the Southern Capital, the Emperor issued an edict ordering you to immediately lead troops back to the Southern Capital to 'eliminate traitors and protect the royal capital.' The envoy is already on the way, riding post-haste. He should arrive here in about ten days."

Duan Xu let out a light laugh and said indifferently, "Eliminate traitors? Vague wording. I have no interest in getting involved in this power struggle. Even if his envoy rides seven or eight horses to death to reach my camp, it would take me at least half a month to mobilize the army and return. What could I possibly catch up to?"

He spread out a sheet of paper and began drawing with a brush: "Here is the Southern Capital. The provincial armies of Dài, Shun, and Yi Provinces have all been mobilized to surround the Southern Capital, leaving these three provinces without usable troops. However, Li Ze's Changming Army is still stationed in Qian Province, and there’s also the Fengnan Army in Xi Province. Neither of these armies is engaged in battle, and they are just as close to the Southern Capital as we are. Who advised the Emperor to recall me instead of them?"

Chen Ying leaned in to look. Both armies had not seen battle for years, and it was unclear how many were even on the payroll. He said, "The combat effectiveness of these two armies is probably..."

"Are Prince Ji and Prince Su’s armies any better? With proper reorganization, these two armies would be more than sufficient." Duan Xu set down his brush. "Right now, we hold the granaries of Qi Province, warhorses from Yun Province, and weapons from Luo Province. With my army stationed outside, neither Prince Ji nor Prince Su would dare touch the Duan residence. What does the chaos in the Southern Capital have to do with me? If I withdraw now, I’d be handing over all the gains from the past six months. I’m not going back."

"..."

Chen Ying had never seen anyone speak such treasonous words as boldly as his third brother. The implication of Duan Xu’s words was clear—he didn’t care whether the Emperor lived or died, and even if someone else took the throne, he would continue fighting his own battles.

Duan Xu might actually say such a thing out loud.

"But the Emperor has already issued the edict, and the envoy is on the way. Third Brother, are you really going to defy the imperial decree?"

Duan Xu crossed his arms and studied the hastily drawn map for a moment before saying, "The journey from the Southern Capital to You Province is long. It’s entirely possible for the envoy to meet with misfortune along the way—robbed, losing the edict and the military tally. Such accidents do happen."

Chen Ying shivered under Duan Xu’s smiling gaze as he continued, "Repeat this to Luo Xian and have her make the necessary arrangements."

Chen Ying agreed, sweating. He often felt that if one day his third brother raised a banner and declared rebellion, he wouldn’t be surprised—he’d probably follow. His third brother didn’t revere any prince; the only one he might respect was the Ghost King.

After Chen Ying left the tent, Duan Xu lowered his gaze to the map and smiled faintly."All the hustle and bustle under heaven is for profit; all the coming and going is for gain. Such struggles for power and position have played out twice within a decade. She must have seen too much of it, growing weary of the sight."

Weary indeed.

This possibility flickered through his mind, but he quickly suppressed the encroaching gloom, folded the sketch, and picked up a new military report instead.

These were good distractions, capable of temporarily making him forget many things.

Meanwhile, dark clouds loomed over the Southern Capital, casting a pall of fear over its citizens. The usually bustling streets were now eerily empty, with only a few figures in sight. People whispered among themselves, their eyes frequently darting toward the imperial palace, speculating about the impending disaster.

Fang Xianye stepped out from the main hall of Jin'an Temple and made his way westward to a secluded guest room at the back, typically reserved for visiting devotees seeking enlightenment. Since the Emperor had fallen unconscious and ceased holding court, the palace had tightened its security. Holding only a nominal position in the Ministry of Rites, Fang had taken leave to seek refuge in Jin'an Temple.

This seemed perfectly normal—no one found it amiss. Under such ominous clouds, everyone was preoccupied with self-preservation.

Though the first month of the year had just passed, the air remained chilly. As Fang walked beneath the eaves, his breath formed wisps of white mist. Yet hints of green were already emerging on the ground and treetops, heralding the approach of spring.

Arriving at a quiet, uninhabited dwelling, he gently knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" came a high-pitched voice from within.

"Fang Xianye."

Footsteps approached, and the door opened. Fang stepped inside to find a man nearing fifty, slightly stout and of short stature, moving with deliberate calm. His voice was thin and reedy—a eunuch who had long served in the palace.

Glancing at the figure lying on the bed, Fang lowered his voice. "Zhao Gonggong, has His Majesty fallen asleep again?"

Zhao Gonggong, his face lined with worry, replied softly, "The Emperor wakes for only two or three hours each day. I’m so concerned I can hardly eat."

The temple quarters were sparsely furnished—just a bed and two small tables. The man lying there appeared to be in his forties, tall and imposing, his pallid face weary yet still exuding authority. This was none other than the reigning Emperor.

Neither the court officials nor Princes Su and Ji could have guessed that the Emperor, whose fate hung in the balance, was now hidden within Jin'an Temple.

Fang’s involvement had been entirely accidental. Previously stationed at the Yun-Luo border, he had later been demoted due to a poetry gathering incident, thus avoiding the succession struggle. When the Emperor collapsed in court and Prince Su sealed off the palace, Fang, like everyone else, remained ignorant of the Emperor’s true condition. But a few days ago, while making his customary visit to the temple to offer incense, he was stopped by Abbot Song Yun, who calmly requested his assistance.

Little did he know that this "assistance" would involve smuggling the Emperor—who had regained consciousness—into Jin'an Temple in secret.

Abbot Song Yun had spent part of his youth in the palace, where he had befriended the Emperor. With turmoil now gripping the imperial household, the Emperor, distrustful of both Princes Su and Ji, had secretly reached out to Song Yun and fled the palace for the temple.

Yet even the Emperor hadn’t anticipated that Song Yun would enlist Fang Xianye’s help.

At the time, the abbot had turned his prayer beads and murmured, "Amitabha," praising Fang as open-minded, wise, and quick-witted—a rare young man of such temperament, worthy of trust. Truly, a man beyond worldly affairs could speak of even the gravest matters with such serenity.At that moment, the Emperor looked at Fang Xianye kneeling on the ground, momentarily at a loss for words, and could only let Song Yun handle the situation.

Now, the Emperor on the bed slowly opened his eyes. Zhao Gonggong exclaimed joyfully, "Your Majesty is awake!"

The Emperor's clouded gaze shifted and settled on Fang Xianye, gradually clearing. He said calmly, "Minister Fang has arrived."

Fang Xianye bowed and replied, "Reporting to Your Majesty, I have brought some medicinal herbs and tonics."

The Emperor extended his hand, and Zhao Gonggong immediately went to support him, helping him sit up against the headboard. He then carefully tucked a hand warmer for the Emperor, attending to him with great care.

The Emperor narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Fang Xianye up and down, and said, "I recall you were a student of Yao Jianhe."

Yao Jianhe, the Right Vice Director of the Department of State Affairs and a participant in the administration of state affairs, held the second-rank position and was respectfully referred to by court officials as Duke Pei.

"Since childhood, I lost my father and faced hardships on my journey to the Southern Capital for the imperial examinations. Fortunately, Lord Yao took pity on me and allowed me to stay for a few days. I have not even grasped two or three-tenths of Lord Yao's knowledge and am ashamed to call myself his student," Fang Xianye replied neither humbly nor arrogantly.

"Minister Fang achieved the highest rank in the imperial examinations at the age of seventeen, becoming the youngest top scholar since the founding of Great Liang. You should have been proud and satisfied, yet you have never shown arrogance or complacency. Instead, you are often filled with concern and fear, caring deeply for the people, embodying the virtue of the sage Yan Hui. Previously, I intentionally demoted you to temper you. Do you understand the painstaking thought behind this?"

Fang Xianye immediately bowed and said, "To receive Your Majesty's favor is the greatest fortune of my life. I would die without regret."

Then, the Emperor said faintly, "I am now weak and frail, fearing my days are numbered. Minister Fang, which of my sons do you think is most suitable to inherit Great Liang?"

The question was far too sensitive. Fang Xianye froze for a moment, sensing trouble, and immediately knelt down. "Your Majesty is in the prime of life and will surely live a hundred years. How dare I speak recklessly on such matters?"

The Emperor chuckled lightly but did not let him off. Instead, he said, "Yao Jianhe is very close to Prince Ji. Minister Fang, what do you think of Prince Ji? Is he fit for the great responsibility?"

Fang Xianye broke into a cold sweat, clenching his fists. He knew the Emperor was determined to extract an answer from him. After much hesitation, he gritted his teeth and said, "Duke Pei is merely acquainted with Prince Ji due to marital ties and likely harbors no ulterior motives. In my humble opinion... although Prince Ji and Prince Su are both talented individuals with grand ambitions, in terms of both civil and military prowess, Prince Jin is no less capable."

A silence followed. In these murky and uncertain times, Fang Xianye had little confidence in his own speculations.

The Emperor had not seemed pleased to see him. On the surface, Fang Xianye was a student and protégé of Yao Jianhe. Although he had not done anything substantial, he appeared to belong to Prince Ji's faction. The Emperor had been secluded in Jin'an Temple for many days without attempting to contact Prince Ji outside the city, suggesting dissatisfaction with him. Moreover, the Emperor's unwillingness to remain in the palace and his secretive escape indicated deep wariness toward Prince Su, who controlled the palace.

If Fang Xianye's guess was correct, the Emperor was dissatisfied with both of these increasingly powerful sons. The most suitable remaining candidate would then be Prince Jin. Among the princes, Prince Jin was relatively young, excelled in calligraphy, and seemed uninterested in court affairs, often immersed in painting and poetry, avoiding the struggles for succession. However, Fang Xianye had once come across Prince Jin's poetry by chance and found it profound, suggesting his mind was far more capable than he let on—merely concealing his brilliance.

"Prince Jin..." The Emperor chuckled softly and said slowly, "Minister Fang, there's no need to be so tense. Rise."Fang Xianye let out a slight sigh of relief—it seemed his gamble had paid off.

Rising from the ground, he saw the Emperor wave his hand, prompting Zhao Gonggong to bring a chair for him to sit. The Emperor spoke calmly, "Princes Su and Ji sought to usurp the throne while I was ill. Had I not been prepared, I would have died in the palace. Such unrighteous and disloyal men are unfit to inherit the Great Liang's legacy. Fang Qing's words resonate deeply with me. Though Prince Jin is young, he is benevolent and courteous, worthy of the throne. In the future, he will need capable advisors by his side, and I intend for you to be among them."

Fang Xianye expressed his gratitude, though he knew these were merely the Emperor's words to placate him. Before Master Song Yun had sought him out, the Emperor must have already selected a group of capable officials for Prince Jin. Given his close ties to Yao Jianhe, Fang was likely excluded from this group.

From the Emperor's demeanor, it seemed he intended for Princes Su and Ji to fight each other, allowing Prince Jin to reap the benefits. Once both princes were weakened, the new Emperor would ascend, and the factions supporting the two princes would gain nothing, likely leading to their decline and a reshuffling of power in the court.

Had the Emperor orchestrated this upheaval? No, it had happened too abruptly—likely not the Emperor's original plan. The sudden deterioration of the Emperor's health must have accelerated events.

Fang Xianye's mind raced as he analyzed the situation, only to be interrupted by the Emperor's quiet murmur, "Has Marshal Duan still not returned?"

Fang stiffened slightly, his fists tightening imperceptibly.

"Your Majesty, Marshal Duan has yet to arrive in the Southern Capital."

"By my calculations, he should have arrived by now. Fang Qing, why do you think he has not returned?"

"I know little of military affairs and dare not speculate. Perhaps the messengers were delayed due to the chaos on the roads."

The Emperor chuckled softly. "I issued the decree for his return as soon as the upheaval began. Marshal Duan is a man of keen awareness—how could he still be absent?"

Fang Xianye felt sweat pricking his palms.

Fortunately, the Emperor did not press the matter further, smoothly shifting the conversation elsewhere.