Chapter 125: The Two Emperors of Qinzong and Huizong

Proofreader: Mim

The battle to defend the capital was hard-fought. The former elite troops that once swept across the plains—the Wujun Battalion (Divine Machine Corps), the Sanqian Battalion (Three Thousand Corps), and the Shenji Battalion (the Five Armies)—had all been wiped out. Even though Qin Yi had urgently called for reinforcements, only a small portion of the Beiwang army managed to arrive in time to defend the capital. The formal military forces had not yet reached the city, so Qin Yi could only conscript militia from within the capital. The able-bodied young men fought outside the city walls, while ordinary citizens inside the city delivered stones and food. Everyone understood that if the city were breached, no one would have a way out, so they dismissed any lingering hopes of survival. The entire population fought as one.

 

Within the Imperial Palace, the inner court could not participate in the external battles directly but was not merely waiting for the outcome. Chu Jinyao issued continuous orders to reduce the palace’s expenses. In recent days, she had gathered all the palace servants, directing them to focus on making warm clothes for the soldiers outside. The concubines, accustomed to a life of luxury, naturally resisted. However, during times of war, power was highly concentrated. Even Empress Xiao Qi herself was confined to Kunning Palace, obediently staying put. These concubines might have been discontented, but their grumbling remained private; none dared to confront Chu Jinyao directly.

 

Reports of the battle from outside the city flooded into the imperial palace like snowflakes. The Wara forces were arrogant and boasted that they would breach Desheng Gate within two hours. Desheng Gate, located at the northernmost part of the capital, bore the brunt of the invasion as the Wara advanced southward. Qin Yi personally led the defense at Desheng Gate. The Wara, after failing to breach the gate and losing 5,000 soldiers, also saw two of their leaders killed by Yan forces. These leaders were roughly equivalent to Han princes in rank, and their deaths devastated Timur, the Wara chieftain. Having suffered heavy losses at Desheng Gate, Timur shifted his forces to attack Xizhi Gate but was defeated there as well. With two significant victories in hand, the morale of Yan’s soldiers and civilians surged. In the subsequent battle at Zhangyi Gate, many citizens voluntarily aided by throwing stones, contributing to another victory.

 

Meanwhile, the defending general at Juyong Pass, no longer holding back, fought fiercely to secure the border. For seven days and nights, they battled the Wara reinforcements, ultimately halting them outside the pass. Timur had initially brought 50,000 soldiers deep into the heart of Yan territory, suffering significant losses during his assault on the cities. With his reinforcements blocked at Juyong Pass and local forces gradually arriving to assist, Timur realized the tide had turned against him. Reluctantly, he conceded that it might take a few more years before the glory could be revived.

 

On the night of November 15, under the cover of darkness, the Wara forces quietly retreated. The soldiers on the city walls quickly realized something was amiss and reported it to their superiors. Qin Yi immediately ordered the troops to push out the cannons and pursue the retreating Wara army. The tables had turned; Yan’s forces, bolstered by advanced weaponry, seized the opportunity to annihilate over 10,000 fleeing Wara soldiers. Timur fled northward toward his base, clashing with Yan forces again at Zijing Pass on the 17th before finally retreating back to the grasslands.

 

As for how the supposedly impregnable Great Wall allowed the enemy to come and go as they pleased, that question could only be answered by the emperor, who was caught in the middle of the invading army.

 

In truth, the Wara had only intended to come south during the winter to plunder supplies. They hadn’t planned anything more ambitious. But to their surprise, Yan’s 300,000 elite troops, disorganized and in disarray, gave Timur the perfect opportunity to strike. Not only did the Wara decisively defeat Yan’s forces, but they also managed to capture their emperor. Holding the emperor was a great burden for Timur, but after consulting with a Yan strategist, he realized he could use the emperor to coerce Yan’s border cities into opening their gates. Had their luck held, they might have even sacked the Yan capital.

 

The Yan capital—it must be brimming with grain and silk.

 

Now, however, as Timur surveyed his severely weakened army, his frustration only grew. He scowled and barked, “Bring that Yan traitor here!”

 

Fang Pucun was shoved into the chieftain’s tent by a group of hulking cavalrymen. Dressed in a simple blue scholar’s robe, Fang Pucun looked every bit the frail scholar—his slender frame standing in stark contrast to the soldiers who surrounded him, each of them muscular and towering. Any one of these soldiers could easily take Fang Pucun’s life with just a slight exertion of force. Despite the dire situation, Fang Pucun showed no signs of fear, though his appearance was a bit disheveled from being roughly handled.

 

“You treacherous Yan dog!” Timur slammed his hand onto the table with such force that it seemed the table might break. “Tell me, are you a spy sent by that crown prince? Otherwise, why did you conspire with them to sabotage me and cause the deaths of my Wara warriors?”

 

Fang Pucun shook his head and chuckled. He casually brushed the dust off his robe. The surrounding cavalrymen, enraged by his nonchalance, glared at him with eyes as wide as bells, barely able to restrain themselves from attacking.

 

Noticing the growing agitation, Fang Pucun coolly remarked, “Great Khan, if you still wish to rise again and achieve great things, you’d best ensure your men behave with some decorum.”

 

The cavalrymen became even more agitated, but before they could act, Timur roared, ordering them to stand down. With the soldiers dismissed, Timur glared at Fang Pucun and growled, “What are you talking about?”

 

“If I were truly a spy for the Yan crown prince,” Fang Pucun said calmly, “then my goal would be to kill the emperor, giving the crown prince a legitimate reason to ascend the throne and lead a campaign against you. I wouldn’t waste time standing here.”

 

Timur didn’t fully understand the intricacies of Fang Pucun’s words, but he instinctively knew they were important. “What do you mean?” he asked.

 

Inwardly, Fang Pucun sneered at the Wara’s simplemindedness. These brutish warriors were strong but lacked the intellect to grasp more subtle strategies. Still, for the sake of his own survival, Fang Pucun chose not to voice his disdain. He rephrased his statement more simply: “Great Khan, the Yan people are different from the Wara. We follow strict principles of hierarchy and filial piety. You have the Yan emperor in your hands—what is there to fear?”

 

It had been Fang Pucun’s suggestion to use the emperor as leverage, promising to return him to the capital in exchange for the opening of Yan’s city gates. He had orchestrated many of the interactions with Yan under Timur’s guidance. While Timur often scorned the Yan for their cunning, he had come to trust this mysterious Yan strategist who had defected to his side. His anger subsided as he asked earnestly, “Then what should we do?”

 

One thing was certain: Yan people knew Yan people best. Their culture, steeped in strategy and manipulation, prized cunning and intrigue. Such devious tactics were often seen as dishonorable by outsiders, but when employed by a Yan defector like Fang Pucun, these same strategies could be devastating to the Middle Kingdom.

 

Since capturing the emperor, Timur had struggled with what to do next. For centuries, Yan had been the dominant state, with numerous smaller nations paying tribute. Its might and authority had long been ingrained in the surrounding regions. Though Timur had frequently raided Yan for supplies, he had always made quick getaways afterward. To escalate beyond that, to hold the emperor captive indefinitely, was another matter entirely.

 

Timur found himself in a difficult position after capturing the emperor. Yan had long been the ruling state in the region, and although Timur had raided their borders for supplies many times, he had never dared to escalate the conflict. Now, holding the emperor in his custody presented a major dilemma. Despite having full control over the emperor, he was unsure of how to proceed. In his eyes, keeping the emperor alive, well-fed, and clothed was already a display of great mercy, much better than what most of his own people experienced. But from the emperor’s perspective, this was nothing less than captivity and mistreatment.

 

Fang Pucun straightened his robe as he entered the imperial tent. His demeanor immediately shifted into one of respect and humility. Bowing deeply before the emperor, he exclaimed with apparent sincerity, “Your Majesty, you have suffered much!”

 

The emperor, having been held captive for more than half a month, had endured more in these past days than in his entire forty years. Most of his trusted ministers were dead, and even the faithful Eunuch Liu had been beaten to death by angry soldiers. Alone among foreigners, without even a servant to attend to his needs, the emperor had experienced nothing but fear and isolation. Seeing a fellow Yan face suddenly filled the emperor with a deep sense of relief. “Who are you, and how did you end up here?” he asked.

 

Fang Pucun knelt and performed a formal Han ritual of obeisance. “Your humble servant has come to save Your Majesty.”

 

The emperor, who had been living in constant terror, was overjoyed by this response. He quickly helped Fang Pucun to his feet, saying, “You are a great minister! Once I return to the capital, I shall reward you handsomely.”

 

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Fang Pucun replied respectfully. “I have embedded myself among the Wara forces to persuade their leader, Timur, to send Your Majesty back to the capital. All you must do is remain patient, and soon, the Ministry of Rites will dispatch a grand procession to escort you back to the imperial court.”

 

After so many days of fear and hardship, this news was a balm to the emperor’s ears. He clapped his hands in approval and said, “This is excellent news! Do not make me wait too long.”

 

“I obey,” Fang Pucun said, bowing deeply as he backed out of the emperor’s tent. Once outside, he gazed up at the heavy, dark clouds hanging over the sky. There was a strange magnificence in the ominous gloom, and he muttered softly to himself, “The winds of change are upon us.”

 

A hundred miles away, in the Imperial Palace, the newly appointed Minister of Rites delivered a letter with a troubled expression. “Your Highness, this is a peace proposal from the Wara.”

 

A peace proposal.

 

Many in the room tried to gauge Qin Yi’s reaction, but they would be disappointed. His expression remained as composed as ever, his movements unhurried, as though the document placed before him were nothing out of the ordinary. Qin Yi took the proposal and skimmed through it, his eyebrow twitching slightly.

 

“They are certainly making bold demands,” he remarked.

 

The new Minister of Rites, aware that the terms in the proposal were outrageously audacious, kept his head lowered, staring intently at the floor tiles of the Wenhua Hall, too afraid to meet Qin Yi’s gaze or say a word.

 

Qin Yi tapped his finger against the elegant, ancient wooden desk. Unlike his usual decisive manner, he refrained from issuing an immediate command on whether to accept or reject the proposal. Instead, he commented with amusement, “Judging by the penmanship and style, this was clearly written by a scholar.”

 

The officials present in the hall exchanged puzzled glances. Qin Yi chuckled lightly, tossing the proposal onto the table. “A scholar from Yan, no doubt—a man who grew up studying Confucius, Mencius, and the Four Books and Five Classics.”

 

—

 

Meanwhile, in Ciqing Palace, Chu Jinyao was busy receiving visits from enthusiastic noblewomen.

 

Thanks to Qin Yi’s successful defense of the capital—despite the loss of 300,000 elite troops—and his later reversal of fortunes in driving back the Wara, he had become the beacon of hope for a shaken nation. On the night of the Wara retreat alone, over 10,000 enemy soldiers had been slain. For the citizens of Yan, who had been demoralized and disillusioned, Qin Yi now seemed like a divine savior, a hero who had turned the tide and saved the kingdom. Likewise, Chu Jinyao’s actions—nearly sacrificing herself for the empire, reducing palace expenses, and helping to supply the soldiers and civilians in the city—had greatly boosted public morale. Now, within the capital, no one worshipped the gods or spirits; they prayed only to the Crown Prince and his wife.

 

In the past, the ministers had hoped that the young crown prince would take over due to the emperor’s neglect of governance, treating him as a last resort. But now, Qin Yi had earned the genuine support and admiration of the people. The entire nation looked to him as the true leader and awaited the day he would ascend to the throne.

 

Thanks to this hard-won victory in defending the capital, the attitudes of the capital’s elite families had dramatically shifted. Whether they were from scholarly backgrounds or military families, they all heaped praise on Chu Jinyao. Noble families scrambled to send their calling cards to the palace, eager to pay their respects. Chu Jinyao, being pregnant, could not receive too many visitors at once. Today, she had only invited her sister, Chu Jinxian, and the ladies of the Changxing Marquis Household to join her.

 

The Marquis of Changxing had a unique status. Since he held no active military post, he had not accompanied the emperor on the ill-fated campaign, a decision that, in hindsight, proved fortunate. When the capital’s defense required experienced generals, the Marquis of Changxing was one of the few remaining with both leadership and battlefield experience. In this moment of crisis, he was assigned to command a secondary gate during the defense of the city and managed to successfully hold his position.

 

The most critical gate had been defended by Qin Yi himself, facing the fiercest onslaught. Qin Yi had withstood the Wara’s initial and most intense assault, securing the first victory that lifted everyone’s spirits. Thanks to that momentum, defending the other gates became much easier. The Marquis of Changxing also took advantage of this momentum to defend Dongzhi Gate, securing an important victory in the defense of the capital.

 

As a result, the standing of the two noble families—the former imperial in-laws—had drastically shifted. The family of the former empress, the Qi family, had all but disappeared from public view. If not for the Crown Prince’s protection, they would have been treated like flies. Meanwhile, the Changxing Marquis Household, the family of the Crown Princess, had gained significant prestige due to their contributions to the defense of the capital. The shift in people’s attitudes was unmistakable.

 

These days, everyone in the Changxing Marquis Household walked with an air of confidence. Duan Yinghua, Chu Jinyao’s sister-in-law, excitedly recounted the events during the siege. “The days when the city was under siege were terrifying for the household, but thankfully, it was all just a false alarm. Adversity truly brings strength to a nation. Nowadays, everyone in the capital is singing the praises of the Crown Prince and Crown Princess. If His Majesty returns safely, the Crown Prince will have achieved unprecedented merit…”

 

Duan Yinghua’s voice trailed off as she noticed the subtle change in the room’s atmosphere. Sensing something was off, she stopped speaking and glanced at Chu Jinyao, who was gently soothing her nephew, Lu Ge’er, seemingly oblivious to the conversation. Chu Jinxian, sitting nearby, had also grown quiet, her gaze downcast, her expression complicated.

 

Rising to the occasion and saving the kingdom during a crisis, and then, perhaps, rescuing the emperor—if Qin Yi managed to bring back the emperor, his merit would be unmatched.

 

But Qin Yi was not merely a subject of the emperor. He was also the Crown Prince. So, the same dilemma faced by Emperor Gaozong of Song, Zhao Gou, had now presented itself to Qin Yi and Chu Jinyao. When Chu Jinyao had once read the history of Emperor Gaozong, she had found it short-sighted and cowardly for him to recall General Yue Fei with twelve imperial decrees. But now, facing the Wara’s peace proposal and the court’s eager anticipation of the emperor’s return, Chu Jinyao found herself unable to speak.

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Author’s Note:  I do not intend to absolve Zhao Gou or Qin Yi of their actions. Yue Fei commanded three-fifths of the Southern Song’s forces, and his army, known as the Yue Family Army, was highly respected by both civilians and soldiers. Given the vast influence Yue Fei wielded, it’s understandable that Emperor Gaozong grew wary. However, I still believe that his decision to execute Yue Fei was a short-sighted one.

As I write this chapter, it’s clear that the story is reaching its final climax. Today, I’ve been working on the ending, and as I proofread this chapter, I couldn’t help but reflect on the broader themes. We always hope for saviors and heroes, but this world often has no room for true heroes.

We are now walking the final stretch with Chu Jinyao and Qin Yi. See you tomorrow for the next update!

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Translator’s Note: We are 15 more chapters away from the end of this novel. Thank you so much for loving it and supporting me. Love you all❤️❤️❤️

Do you want me to post it all in next week ( i.e It will finish on 28th march)  or shall I continue as regular schedule ( i.e 2 chapters each alternate day, that means It will finish on 7th of april)

Please let me know in the comments.