Sea of No Return

Life is likе а рlау; when the curtаin fаlls, no mattеr what cоnfusiоn аnd rеgrеts rеmain, what must еnd will end.

The Princess Rоуal hаd a finаl wish: if shе wеrе no lоngеr hеrе оne dаy, she hoреd thosе beneath hеr could lеave реасеfullу. Lоoking baсk nоw, she hаd асtuallу madе hеr decisiоn lоng agо. When facеd with the impossiblе сhоicе between fаmilу аnd cоuntrу, shе hаd nо оther орtion but tо saсrifice hеrself. Jinshi hаd рrоmised hеr thаt еvеn now, though she wаs gone, he would still metiсulously cаrry out hеr final wishеs.

Тhis Eldеst Princess Residence, in the end, is filled with her presence—her joys, her sorrows—lingering in the heart, threatening to crush one under their weight. Though parting is unbearably difficult, they must leave. This is now the world of the Southern Garden people. Who knows if delaying now would mean they might never leave alive?

The carriage was ready, waiting outside the main gate of the Princess's Residence. The group stood there despondently, the morning sun shining on their heads. With one person gone, their ranks had collapsed.

Xiao You wept bitterly, "Her Highness hasn’t even been buried yet. Are we really leaving like this?"

The Prince of Nanyuan no longer allowed anyone to approach the Silver Peace Hall. Whether they stayed or left made no difference.

Tong Huan sighed deeply, "When Her Highness was fourteen, I came to serve her. Through all the storms and trials of these nine years, I’ve been by her side. I come from humble origins, while she was the noblest person in Great Ye. I don’t know how many lifetimes of good karma I must have accumulated to have been brought before her. Her Highness was different from us. No matter where we go, we can still eat and drink without worry, but she—unyielding and steadfast—could not live through a change of dynasty. Though we are reluctant to let her go a thousand, ten thousand times over, for her, this was the best outcome. There is no feast in this world that does not come to an end. When the time came, she left first, and we will follow later. Once you see it clearly, it’s really nothing."

These were words of comfort, but seeing a lively person confined to a coffin, at the peak of her youth, who wouldn’t feel sorrow for her? Yet, parting must come eventually—such is life. The group exchanged mournful glances. With their pillar of strength gone and their country lost, they were uncertain where to go or what to do.

Those with families would return home first to reunite with their loved ones. Those without families would likely head south to escape the chaos of war.

Xiao You asked Yu Xixia, "What are your plans, Lord Yu? To flee far away?"

Yu Xixia shook his head woodenly, "Flee far away? To where... I am a eunuch. When the country changes hands, aside from the imperial clan being implicated, people like us suffer even more." He turned to look at Jinshi, "What about you, Thousand Household Commander?"

Jinshi’s face showed neither joy nor anger, but his gaze was resolute. "Her Highness’s greatest wish was to preserve the legacy of Great Ye. I am a military man; I know nothing but to fight with my life... I plan to return to the capital and serve the imperial court to the best of my ability, to comfort Her Highness’s spirit in heaven."

His decision was poignant. Though the road ahead was uncertain, for the sake of his final loyalty, he still chose to fight—a testament to the integrity of a Silk-clad Guard. His subordinates naturally would follow him. Yu Xixia would share the glory and disgrace of Great Ye. Tong Huan and Xiao You had families in Beijing. After discussing it, they realized there was only one path left to take.

"Do you think Pingchuan has delivered the message back? What will those officials who only know how to talk say? And The Emperor? What will he think?"Tong Huan said indifferently, "What else is there besides a sigh of regret? When the nation faces peril, Your Highness can sacrifice herself to uphold her integrity, but those so-called upright men probably lack such courage."

Yet how much is their belated remorse truly worth? A life was forcibly extinguished. Though the actions of the Prince of Nanyuan are indeed detestable, even more despicable are those hypocritical, pedantic scholars who kill without leaving a trace.

At the moment of parting, the crowd knelt outside the threshold, kowtowing from afar toward the direction of the Silver Peace Hall. It was a pity that Your Highness could no longer see it. Since they had decided to leave, there was no turning back. Each boarded their carriages, and with a crack of the whip, they departed from Big Hat Lane onto Hongwu Street. The sun gradually rose higher, and the roads began to fill with a steady stream of pedestrians.

Tong Huan leaned against the carriage window, listless and unwilling to speak. But after traveling only a short while, she heard Xiao You let out a soft, low gasp. She looked up and asked, "What's wrong?"

Xiao You's trembling finger pointed toward the end of the street. "Look quickly, who is that person?"

Tong Huan leaned out of the window to look. At first glance, she saw a man dressed in magnificent robes and a beautiful crown, standing amidst the bustling crowd. He stood quietly, separated by several neighborhood walls, gazing southward with a face full of sorrow. His striking appearance and stature were unmistakable, even after seven years.

Had he come to fetch Your Highness? Tong Huan suddenly burst into tears. If only he had come a little earlier—but in the end, it was too late. Such is the fate of humans: a slight misstep can create an eternal separation between life and death. He must also be grieving. He had watched Your Highness grow up, witnessed her investiture as Princess Royal, and seen her become the Princess of Nanyuan—every matter had been handled by him. The fall of the nation had been anticipated, but he never expected her to be so stubborn. Had he arrived just half a month earlier, Your Highness would not have died. It seemed fate was inescapable; no matter what, they could not avoid it. A delay of a few days meant missing an entire lifetime.

Yet perhaps it was the protection of the Princess Royal. The Nanyuan army, which had already advanced to the Nine Gates, suffered several setbacks and was unexpectedly pushed back to Langfang. This gave the imperial court a chance to catch its breath. Several retired senior generals were reinstated—veterans of many years on the battlefield, even if long removed from combat, their strategies and tactics remained sharp. Thus, the battlefront gradually extended over a hundred miles, forcing the Nanyuan army to retreat and defend Cangzhou. It was not until four years later that they finally breached Beijing City.

With the city's fall, a dynasty came to an end, evoking a sense of inescapable destiny. A vast, dark tide of soldiers flooded into the Forbidden City, that symbol of supreme imperial power. The heart of the empire lay open, unwilling yet helpless.

Lan Zhou stepped into the Hall of Heavenly Favor and placed his Ama's memorial tablet high upon the lacquered golden Dragon Throne. "If Ama were still here, we would not have wasted four years! Now, your son has finally fulfilled your trust—this empire has been conquered."

The formidable warrior, after all, could not escape the torment of love. While attacking the Nine Gates, he received news from Nanyuan: not long after the Princess Royal was buried, his Ama had followed her to the grave. This devastating news shattered his spirit, the pain so intense he could not straighten his back. Time and again, he awoke from midnight dreams trembling with fear. He had believed his Ama would recover—someone so perceptive of the world would surely see through it. Yet in the end, his heart had died, leaving him with no will to live. It was said that during that time, he wasted away to a shadow of himself, tormenting himself by every means possible. Until his final moment, he still clung tightly to those pouches and sachets.Ama was in the prime of his life, yet he passed away so suddenly. Everyone was watching him; he could not return to mourn, only facing south and wailing bitterly. First E'nie, then Ama—different blows, yet both shattered his heart. The root of all suffering lay with Murong Gaogong. Without his repeated coercion, how could she have died? If she had not died, Ama would have been safe and sound. He inquired into the details: before her passing, she had received a letter from the palace. The contents were seen by Hatu, said to be tactfully worded. A rough man might not have noticed anything amiss, but for the sensitive Princess Royal, the subtle art of retreating to advance between the lines was a pressure heavier than Mount Tai.

With her proud bone, how could she endure such slander? Thus, she died to prove her integrity, and Murong Gaogong was finally satisfied.

If he did not kill him, how could he console his late father and his deceased brothers? He gave the order: dig three feet into the ground if necessary, but find that Dog Emperor. Not long after, his subordinates reported back: the corpse of Emperor Mingzhi had been found. This Dao Ye still had some backbone; instead of waiting to be strangled, he hanged himself with a rope in the Changchun Palace.

He hurried to inspect. The Dao Ye who had lost his empire was wearing only his inner garment, barefoot, swaying gently from the beam. Perhaps feeling unworthy to call himself an emperor, he had not even worn the dragon robe. Shouts came from outside; he turned and went out. A little girl dressed in brocade was roughly dragged down the steps. She silently watched her weeping wet nurse, her gaze reminding him of her. He slightly raised a finger, signaling to spare her life. He knew she was Murong Gaogong's only daughter.

Under a toppled nest, no egg remains intact. In the chaotic conquest and cleanup, the Batulus, bloodthirsty and frenzied, had nearly finished purging Emperor Mingzhi's harem. This included all imperial sons, consorts, and thousands of palace maids and eunuchs.

The glorious imperial capital ran with rivers of blood; the stains on Celestial Street took tens of thousands of buckets of water to wash clean. The revitalized imperial city regained an aura of peace and prosperity. A vibrant dynasty rose from the ground, its state name Da Ying, its era name Qian Shi. From now on, it bore the surname Yuwen.

He was the founding emperor, but he knew that all foundations were created by Ama. Standing on his shoulders, he achieved today's glory. Sometimes he wondered: if Ama had become emperor, what kind of enlightened ruler would he have been? His own meager achievements paled in comparison, not even a fraction. And her—as mother of the nation, how benevolent and generous she would have been, her virtue spreading far and wide. Sadly, both were gone, with no chance for reconciliation. To the end, she hated Ama.

The letter she left him, he had always treasured. She did not wish to be buried with Ama. Though his heart was tangled with conflict, this was her dying wish—how could he defy it?He built an imperial mausoleum, honored Ama as the High Emperor, relocated the tomb from the Southern Garden, and reburied him with the highest ceremonial rites. Yet she had placed him in a dilemma—if he were to posthumously confer upon her the title of Empress, she would have to be interred alongside him. After much deliberation, he could only grant her the title of Imperial Consort, neither entombed in the Murong Clan's Tai Mausoleum nor in Ama's Xiao Mausoleum. He constructed a separate burial mound for her twenty li east of Xiao Mausoleum, fearing she would lack offerings, and specially dispatched eunuchs to guard her tomb. On the anniversaries of her birth and death, he would personally visit to pay respects... Not being able to accompany her on her final journey remained his eternal regret. He remembered his legitimate mother as an extraordinary woman, radiant and pure, untouched by worldly dust.

Naturally, this decision drew him much criticism. Whether accused of selfish motives or pettiness, he gritted his teeth and simply declared, "Our mind is made up."

The Empress Dowager, however, was pleased. "This is my good son, worthy of the life I gave you. Rituals may be disrupted, but status must not. After all, Princess Hede was a princess of the previous dynasty—it would be improper for her to enter Xiao Mausoleum."

His expression remained indifferent; years of warfare had long accustomed him to concealing his emotions. "There is no need for Grandmother to console me. This time, I have indeed broken the rules, blurring the lines between legitimate and illegitimate, and deserve to be condemned."

The Empress Dowager was displeased. "What blurring of legitimate and illegitimate? You are the Emperor now—what 'illegitimate' could there be? It is this knot in your heart that remains unresolved, and even now you still call me 'Grandmother'!"

Only then did he reluctantly bow and address her as E'nie. "Your white cat—I have ordered it disposed of."

The Empress Dowager was startled. "Why?"

Why... because it had eaten the bluethroat she had given him, and of course, he could not tolerate that.

This palace was too opulent, too vast. Though he now ruled here, there were many places he had never visited. One day, he entered the Wenyuan Pavilion, a place dedicated to compiling and revising texts. The ground floor served as offices for officials, the second floor housed various classics and works from past dynasties, while the third floor was spacious and bright, furnished with an imperial couch, prepared for his occasional visits to browse the collections.

He browsed the shelves and selected a copy of The Book of Ye, authored by Chen Jihou, a Hanlin scholar of the previous dynasty. It recorded significant events throughout history, as well as detailed accounts of the lives of the direct imperial lineage. He knew the fates of most imperial kinsmen. The Murong Clan had few survivors left, and with her gone, they had no means to beg for mercy.

Following the light, he ascended to the third floor and sat on the imperial couch, slowly turning the pages. Golden rays streamed through the latticed windows, illuminating countless specks of dust dancing in the air. Before his eyes, an image surfaced—of her holding a pinwheel, sitting side by side with him on the steps, carefree and believing it would last forever... He sighed, and the sigh scattered the vision, leaving him lost in melancholy. It took him a long while to regain his composure.

He continued flipping through the pages and, in the section on Emperor Xiao's children, found the brief written record of her life. A few short lines encapsulated her entire existence—"Imperial Princess Hede, named Jun, styled Wanwan, was the daughter of Emperor Xiaozong, born of the Virtuous Empress. In the first year of Longhua, Emperor Huizong ascended the throne, and she was honored as Princess Royal. In the first year of Kaibao, she married the Prince of Nanyuan, Yuwen Liangshi. The princess was intelligent and perceptive from a young age, with a refined love for reading and excelling in painting. At the age of four, she practiced cursive script with unrestrained elegance, earning the special affection of Emperor Xiaozong. During the reign of Emperor Mingzhi, who was devoted to Daoist studies, the princess, on the eve of her marriage, admonished him three times with her counsel. The emperor agreed but soon relapsed. In the second year of Kaibao, when the princess became pregnant, the emperor urgently summoned her back to the capital but treated her coldly, greatly angering the Imperial Consort. During the rebellion of Prince Zhen'an, the Imperial Consort led elite troops to quell it, executed Wang Ding, routed the enemy forces, and beheaded over six hundred, for which he was appointed Acting General of the Right Xiaowei. In the sixth year of Kaibao, when Nanyuan rebelled, the princess lamented, 'Since my husband has turned traitor, how can I remain his wife?' Not long after, she died upholding her virtue. The emperor ascended a tower to gaze and weep, posthumously bestowing upon her the title 'Zhao'."