She climbed back onto his shoulders, and this time he walked slowly southward.
“Dad, what were my grandparents like?”
“Your grandpa had the best temper, and your grandma was the most beautiful.”
“Did Grandpa ever spank you when you were little and disobedient?”
“Haha, he couldn’t bear to.”
“Then if I don’t listen to you later, will you spank me?”
“I couldn’t bear to either.”
“What if bad guys bully Sweet Potato later? I mean, a lot of bad guys—way more than last time up north!”
“Dad will beat them so hard even Tuoba Pusa’s parents won’t recognize them.”
“Huh? What does that mean?”
“You’ll understand when you grow up.”
“But I’m already grown up!”
“In Dad’s heart, Sweet Potato will never grow up.”
“What if some woman doesn’t like Sweet Potato? Would you abandon me?”
“Of course not. Because Dad loves Sweet Potato the most.”
“Sigh… Mom must’ve been tricked by you the same way back then.”
“…”
“If I get mad and call you Xu Fengnian later, will you be angry?”
“Sweet Potato, Dad will never be angry with you in this lifetime.”
“What if you break your promise later?”
“You have that wooden sword, don’t you?”
“Right! Will you still take me to the rooftops later? And go catch fireflies together? Do we have chicken legs at home? Are the blankets thick enough?”
“All of it! We’ll have everything!”
“Dad…”
“Hmm?”
“Don’t die, okay?”
“…”
“Don’t pretend to sleep!”
“Alright.”
“Dad.”
“What now?”
“Hehe, just wanted to call you.”
****************
Outside the city, smoke and fire rose in chaos.
Inside the city, disorder reigned.
One must remember—this city was called Tai’an City!
For over two hundred years, no foreign army had ever laid siege to this capital of Liyang!
What saddened him most was that the enemy had delayed breaching the city walls only to prolong the war between Liang and Mang!
Emperor Zhao Zhuan of the Zhao Dynasty sat alone in the Diligence Hall, where generations of rulers had studied. Only the Left Imperial Advisor of the Secretariat, Chen Wang, stood guard at the door.
The young emperor sat in the same spot where he had studied as a boy, gazing at the lectern where his tutors once taught.
No one knew whether this once-ambitious young ruler was filled with fury or regret—or perhaps both.
Strangely, from his days as a prince to his ascension, this emperor had never earned a single stain on his reputation. Even if he hadn’t been the eldest son, his claim to the throne was indisputable, widely supported by all.
Yet after taking the throne, despite his noble bearing, his wisdom, and the people’s trust, the unified Liyang Dynasty—built by his grandfather Zhao Li and father Zhao Dun—collapsed under his reign.
In the annals of history, some fallen emperors had to die, while others were spared. The former, like the last emperor of Great Chu’s Jiang Clan; the latter, like the final ruler of Southern Tang.
Though Zhao Zhuan belonged to the former, he cared little for his own fate.
He only wished to understand one thing: why had he lost so suddenly, like a towering building crumbling without warning, leaving no chance for remedy?
Had his brilliant grandfather already erred? Or had the Zhao Dynasty begun to falter under his father’s rule?
With his back to Chen Wang, the emperor remained calm.
Suddenly, Chen Wang spotted the “young” eunuch standing at the corridor’s end.
Chen Wang hesitated to speak. The eunuch advanced slowly, passing him without a word, then vanished around a corner.
From start to finish, not a sound was made.
Chen Wang closed his eyes, his face twisted in anguish.
At some point, Empress Yan Dongwu arrived, her grace undiminished even now.
Chen Wang stepped aside and bowed.
Yan Dongwu nodded in return before entering the hall and sitting silently beside the emperor.
Zhao Zhuan turned to her with a smile. “You’re here.”
Yan Dongwu smiled back. “To keep you company.”
Zhao Zhuan murmured, “I thought Lu Shengxiang would surrender like Wu Zhongxuan and Song Li once the tide turned. Yet he fought to the last, losing seventy to eighty percent of his capital garrison! I thought Prince Zhao Shui of Jiaodong and his heir Zhao Yi would hold back like Gu Jianfang. Yet father and son marched south, their cavalry annihilated! And then I thought Xu Gong, the military governor of Lianghuai, would die for the country like Lu Shengxiang and Zhao Shui. But today, he sent me a secret letter. In it, he wrote: ‘Today, the frontier no longer has Xu Xiao, nor does the court have Zhang Julu. I, Xu Gong, cannot bring myself to die for the Zhao Dynasty. The remaining elite troops of Lianghuai would rather die facing north like the Liang border army than slaughter their own kin in the heartland.’”
Zhao Zhuan actually chuckled. “This pillar of the border ended his letter with: ‘If Your Majesty refuses, this subject can do nothing.’”
Yan Dongwu’s eyes flashed coldly. “Traitor!”
Zhao Zhuan shook his head wryly. “Just disloyal, not treasonous. Xu Gong won key battles early on—otherwise, the Prince of Yan and the others couldn’t have kept up their charade. This letter wasn’t for me. It was for Zhao Bing and Zhao Zhu. Our General Xu is quite thoughtful.”
Yan Dongwu gritted her teeth. “Chen Zhizhao is the most hateful! Gu Jianfang, the most shameless!”
Zhao Zhuan shook his head again. “No matter how formidable Chen Zhizhao’s sixty thousand infantry and twenty thousand cavalry are, no matter how divine his strategies, he couldn’t have completely blocked the southern march of the Liao border army. Gu Jianfang didn’t want to exhaust his elites, and his generals had to hold back.”
Zhao Zhuan sighed. “Regardless, Chen Zhizhao truly lives up to his title as the White-Clad War Saint. No wonder my father held him in such high regard.”
Yan Dongwu’s expression darkened.
Zhao Zhuan smiled. “I should be glad Chen Zhizhao didn’t stay in Liang to support that man. Otherwise, not only would this empire not be mine—it wouldn’t even be a Zhao anymore!”
Yan Dongwu lowered her head, touching her belly.
Zhao Zhuan reached out and stroked her hair. Tears streamed down the young emperor’s face, but his voice was gentle. “Live well. Live well with our child. Just stay safe. Never tell them who their father was.”
As if speaking to someone unseen, Zhao Zhuan said, “You who have shared centuries of history with my family, I beg you, Old Immortal, to take her safely from Tai’an City.”
From somewhere—perhaps nearby, perhaps distant—came a sigh, followed by a single word:
“Agreed.”
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