Lan Ming Yue

The sound of firecrackers and fireworks echoed outside. The last flicker of flame in the stove slowly died out. Wang Dian stared at the note in silence for a long time before finally slipping it into his sleeve.

The next day, Chang Ying and Chang Li appeared silently in the inner chamber as agreed.

“Young Master,” Chang Ying placed the unused medicine and letter on the table. “This lowly servant didn’t wait for you and Emperor Liang, so I returned.”

“Young Master, there were no secret guards seen around the residence,” Chang Li also put things back on the table. “The items weren’t used.”

Wang Dian looked at the items on the table and tugged at the corner of his mouth.

When he left Shiyuan City, he had guessed that Liang Ye would either forcibly take him back to Great Liang or use some tactics to coax him back. What he had prepared wasn’t just some temporary love gu, but real gu insects and “medicine.” If Liang Ye really came on strong, he wouldn’t be polite either. The fully equipped secret room under this house naturally wasn’t for pleasure.

If they had to mutually destroy each other, he would rather be the one in control, making Liang Ye unable to leave him.

He had schemed painstakingly, thinking of hundreds of ways to torment someone, but in the end, none were used. He had prepared for the worst, but Liang Ye had withdrawn in advance.

Even if Liang Ye hadn’t left, Wang Dian knew he couldn’t win anymore.

He couldn’t bear it.

Just seeing Liang Ye’s hurried and sloppy handwriting on the note, he couldn’t even find anger at Liang Ye’s unannounced departure, only worry and reluctance remained.

He had fallen for a madman.

Wang Dian smiled self-mockingly, with a hint of unspeakable regret, and decisively overturned his previous plans.

Just based on the fact that Liang Ye left on his own without taking him, that bastard had somewhat come to his senses, at least knowing not to drag him along to his death.

“Chang Li, go find out what has happened recently in Northern Liang,” Wang Dian paused. “As detailed as possible, especially about the capital.”

“Yes,” Chang Li responded and left.

“Chang Ying, go bring Chu Geng back.”

****

Northern Liang, Ziyan City.

Heavy snow fell on the cold, blood-soaked ground. Battle flags, frozen stiff with blood, stood with difficulty. Severed limbs piled in one place, while wrecked war chariots, horse carcasses, and human corpses formed chaotic mountains.

Among the piled corpses, a scarred hand moved slightly with difficulty. Purple-blue fingers clawed fiercely at the frozen-hard ground, breaking through the thick snow layer, leaving deep red marks.

After a teeth-clenching sound of armor collision, labored breathing could be heard in the cold air. A blood-covered figure crawled out from the mountain of corpses. The purple-blue hand supported against the broken remains of a war chariot, like a slow-moving zombie, straightening up.

Snowflakes fell on blood-stained eyelashes. Numb and hollow eyeballs turned stiffly, surveying the hellish scene around.

As far as the eye could see, all was blood-red.

“… North…” The person standing there opened his mouth, immediately spitting out a mouthful of dark red blood. The heat dispersed the frost on his eyelashes. He anxiously, desperately tried to make himself move. Anger and bone-deep hatred surged through his body, finally bursting out in a roar. “Northern Army Commander… Wei Wanlin — betrayed the country!”

He staggered, moving his stiff legs with difficulty, running arduously towards the city gate. Countless disfigured corpses flashed before his eyes. Desperate screams and the glint of swords seemed just within reach.

‘Brothers! This is the last battle! After this, we’ll have a good New Year!’

‘We’ll return to the capital for rewards and titles!’

‘We’ll teach those barbarians a lesson they won’t forget!’

“Commander Wei! Commander Wei! Wei Wanlin! How dare you—”

“We’ve all been deceived by him!”

“Enemy attack!”

“The swords and blades have all rusted! The provisions have been burned! Run! Quick, run!”

“It’s too late—”

The harsh cries of winter crows echoed above Ziyan City as the staggering man unexpectedly fell.

He didn’t want to die, at least not in such a pathetic way. He hadn’t yet earned a good name for his adoptive father, hadn’t properly reconnected with Wang Dian, hadn’t revisited the bustling streets to drink and ride horses…

Ahead lay the prosperous capital, unaware of the danger; behind, tens of thousands of fallen comrades who died in vain.

His hatred reached its peak, yet tears flowed uncontrollably. He looked desperately towards the capital, clearly feeling his life slipping away.

‘Do you know who you’re working for?’ A familiar voice suddenly thundered in his ears.

Like a drowning man grasping at the last straw, his frozen hands frantically searched his body, finally finding the dragon-patterned auspicious cloud token in the most intimate place. He urgently smashed the wooden token, indeed finding what Wang Dian had mentioned.

‘If you encounter danger, His Majesty will save you.’

A piercing signal shot skyward.

Under the vast northern sky, biting winds swept across the grieving city strewn with corpses, carrying smoke and the stench of blood southward, crashing into the bustling mortal world of the capital.

Liang Ye dismounted, casually tossing his whip to Chong Heng who had caught up. “Wen Zong has always been robust, how could he suddenly fall ill?”

“A few days ago, there was a temple fair outside the city. The Imperial Preceptor went with Qi Ming, but unfortunately stumbled on the way and hasn’t been well since,” Chong Heng said, quickly following.

Liang Ye perfunctorily waved off the greetings from servants and Wen Zong’s family members, striding quickly into the inner chamber. He frowned at the strong smell of medicine.

The imperial physician and several of Wen Zong’s students knelt and kowtowed. Wen Zong struggled to rise and pay respects, but Liang Ye pressed him down, saying sternly, “No need.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Wen Zong grasped his hand tightly, then lay back down, smiling bitterly. “This old minister is useless, causing Your Majesty concern.”

“At your age, you should rest well. Why join in such unnecessary excitement?” Liang Ye, irritated by the medicinal smell, glanced at those kneeling on the ground. “All of you, rise.”

Only then did Qi Ming and others stand up.

Wen Zong smiled, “It’s nothing, just slippery roads in the snow. If Le Hong hadn’t been there to support this old minister, I fear I wouldn’t have lasted until Your Majesty’s return.”

Liang Ye frowned slightly.

“Too many people are noisy. This old minister wishes to speak a few words alone with Your Majesty,” Wen Zong said, eyes closed.

“Teacher,” Qi Ming looked at him anxiously and worriedly. “It’s better to have the imperial physician watching—”

“I know my limits,” Wen Zong waved his hand.

“Everyone, leave,” Liang Ye said coldly.

Soon, only the emperor and his minister remained in the room.

Wen Zong looked much thinner. This spirited old man seemed to never tire. As far back as Liang Ye could remember, he had always been like this – cunning and dramatic, timid yet merciless in punishment, nagging with a belly full of schemes.

Liang Ye had thought he would have to endure his nagging for many more years.

“Your Majesty, after tonight’s New Year’s Eve, this old minister will be exactly ninety,” Wen Zong looked at him with a smile. “Everyone has such a day, I consider this a great joy in life.”

Liang Ye stared at him coldly, gripping his hand tightly.

“I entered official service at nineteen, served through three reigns, and witnessed Great Liang’s fall from its zenith to the brink of ruin. I knew my own stupidity and incompetence, unable to change the course of events single-handedly, so I was always overcautious…” Wen Zong patted his hand. “When I first saw you, you were like a little mud monkey, squatting in a tree throwing mud at me… I could only watch helplessly as that witch Cui Yuxian tormented you, so I had no right to stop you when you wanted to leave… But you still have the blood of the former emperor and General Bian flowing in you, innately refusing to admit defeat, accomplishing what I couldn’t in decades… Now, even in the underworld, I can face them with pride.”

“It’s just a fall. There’s still much for you to do when court resumes after the New Year,” Liang Ye said gravely.

“Your Majesty, one must accept old age,” Wen Zong closed his eyes briefly, gripping his hand more tightly, his voice choked. “It’s just that this Great Liang you’ve reclaimed… is exhausted and chaotic, beset by internal and external troubles, with danger lurking everywhere. I had hoped to help you while I could still move, but my old eyes are dim… Your Majesty, please remember what I’m about to say.”

Liang Ye’s jaw tightened as he met the old man’s cloudy, tearful gaze and nodded.

“The Northern Army Commander Wei Wanlin…is arrogant. Though talented in leadership, he lacks loyalty to the country. He can guard the capital but must not be stationed at distant borders, or he will surely rebel in time.”

“Right Chief Minister Yan Ze, though smooth-talking and once a follower of Cui Yuxian, is grateful and not ill-natured. His abilities are no less than mine, and he’s not from a noble family. Your Majesty should support him to counter the noble families…” (TL: 右仆射 ’Youpushe’=Right chief minister/ Right chancellor)

“Minister of the Secretariat Cui Yun is upright, a rare pure official in court. Your Majesty should employ him.”

“Minister of Personnel Zeng Jie seeks fame, but his loyalty is clear. Your Majesty can decide whether to keep or use him.”

“Minister of Rites Feng Qing is corrupt, a pest to the country. When Your Majesty cleans up corruption in court, start with him…”

“Though the Cui and Jian families have fallen, other noble families remain. Your Majesty trusts Consort Tan, but the Tan family… must not be overlooked.”

“If Your Majesty intends to establish Liang Huan as Crown Prince, Cui Qi must be eliminated.”

“Wang Dian looks like Your Majesty’s twin. He’s cunning and manipulative. For those who can’t be subdued, no matter how much Your Majesty favors them, uprooting them is the best choice. Otherwise, great calamity will surely come.”

Liang Ye frowned slightly. Wen Zong gripped his arm tightly with both hands, speaking earnestly from the heart. “Your Majesty, an emperor needs no love. The former emperor’s example is before your eyes. If not for General Bian, how could victory have slipped away then… Your Majesty! Be decisive. Every act of mercy now will become an arrow aimed at your throat in the future.”

Liang Ye looked up at him, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

Wen Zong’s breathing became labored, his usually strong grip weakening and slowing. “Lastly, this old minister has an unreasonable request.”

“Baili Cheng’an is the disciple I personally trained. If he commits a grave error in the future, I hope Your Majesty… will spare his life. This boy has the talent of a Zhang Liang. If Your Majesty is willing to use him, he can secure Great Liang’s foundation for three hundred years…”

(TL: Zhang Liang (张良), courtesy name Zifang (子房), a famous strategist and advisor to Liu Bang, the founder of the Han dynasty. Zhang Liang is renowned for his wisdom and strategic brilliance.)

Liang Ye nodded.

The tight grip on his hand suddenly loosened. In the medicine-filled room, only one person’s breathing remained.

Fireworks burst brilliantly over the capital, firecrackers sounded from all directions as New Year’s Eve reached its most jubilant hour at midnight.

Wails of grief mingled with laughter and cheer. The howling cold wind, carrying the scent of gunpowder, stirred the red tassel hanging from the jade pendant.

Liang Ye led his horse, silently treading through the snow, walking alone step by step towards the heavy, deeply closed palace gates.