As evening gradually fell, palace lanterns were lit inside and outside Yanying Hall, sustaining a faint island of light against the overwhelming darkness about to descend.
Zhang Yuan hurried through the corridors beneath the shifting lantern shadows and quietly entered the hall. At a glance, he saw Yu Shuang Xi standing in the spot Zhang Yuan usually occupied, attentively fanning Emperor Jianhong as he bent over the imperial desk reviewing memorials. Zhang Yuan’s expression immediately darkened.
He lowered his head and approached the imperial desk. “Your Majesty,” he said softly.
Emperor Jianhong’s brush paused slightly. He waved his left hand, and Yu Shuang Xi tactfully withdrew to the entrance of the hall.
Only then did Zhang Yuan feel somewhat better. He said gently, “Your Majesty, there is news from Shicui Hall.” He leaned closer and made his report in a low voice.
Emperor Jianhong set down his brush, suspicion gathering between his brows. “The Hundred Longevity Portrait was delivered to Shicui Hall?”
Zhang Yuan said, “This servant also finds it strange. The order clearly came from Consort Dowager Chen, so why has Consort Rong become involved? Unfortunately, Shicui Hall has always been guarded as tightly as an iron barrel. Its attendants are all offenders selected from Yeting Palace. Without Your Majesty’s permission, this servant did not dare make a move.”
Emperor Jianhong’s eyes were half-open as he asked, “If We granted permission, how would you proceed?”
Zhang Yuan said quietly, “This servant has already selected someone clever. Once they commit a minor offense, they can be sent inside.”
Emperor Jianhong gazed at the palace lantern on the desk. Its gentle light illuminated his face, leaving one half bright and the other dark, lending him an unexpectedly chilling air. He appeared to ponder for a long time before slowly asking, “We recall that your original name was Zhang Dao Huang?”
Zhang Yuan froze, then hurriedly smiled ingratiatingly. “Your Majesty has an excellent memory. On the day this servant was born, the rice in the fields was golden yellow. My family considered it auspicious and gave me that name.”
“We were the one who changed it to ‘Yuan.’”
“This servant received Your Majesty’s immense grace. Even my ancestors bask in its glory.”
“Yet you have failed Our expectations.”
The lightly spoken words frightened Zhang Yuan so badly that his entire body trembled. He hurriedly knelt. “This servant is terrified! This servant would never dare!”
Emperor Jianhong threw a stack of memorials impeaching him onto the floor before him. “Spying upon the inner palace, associating with outside officials, daring to take even a prince’s possessions without permission—and now you have turned your attention toward the residences of imperial consorts. Tell Us, what is there that you would not dare do? We have indulged you until your audacity grew beyond measure.”
Zhang Yuan cried out inwardly that he had been wronged.
When Emperor Jianhong first ascended the throne, he had established his authority through beheadings, killing until every official at court fell silent in fear and panic spread both inside and outside the palace. That was precisely why Zhang Yuan had begun “spying upon the inner palace and associating with outside officials.” Once the ministers possessed “eyes and ears” within the palace, they naturally stopped believing that the emperor’s moods were entirely unpredictable. At the same time, the emperor could use Zhang Yuan to monitor and remotely influence the ministers’ activities.
The accusation that he had “dared to take even a prince’s possessions without permission” was even more unjust.
The emperor had clearly hinted that he should establish ties with Count Yongfeng. If Zhang Yuan had not shown goodwill, why would the count have agreed to associate with a eunuch? How much crucial information had passed through his hands over the years while the emperor deliberately looked the other way? It had merely been a slingshot the Tenth Prince no longer used. How had that suddenly become an act of outrageous disloyalty?
Zhang Yuan looked at the open memorials. Every one had been submitted within the past two days, clearly indicating that someone had planned matters behind the scenes and orchestrated a coordinated attack. For something so significant to occur without his knowing anything meant that he had already lost control over affairs both inside and outside the palace.
A chill rose within him. He hurriedly admitted fault. “This servant failed to discipline those beneath him.”
Emperor Jianhong said, “It was We who failed to discipline Our subordinate, allowing a man steeped in evil and harboring treachery to grow beneath Our very eyes!”
Zhang Yuan was stunned by the rebuke and could not help raising his head.
Emperor Jianhong sat behind the imperial desk, his expression utterly calm despite the severity of his tone.
When Zhang Yuan looked over, Emperor Jianhong was also watching him. The lanterns on the desk shone brightly, yet their light could not penetrate the depths of his eyes. They remained densely black, dark and unfathomable. Who could have imagined that before ascending the throne, this beheading emperor had once been an idle prince renowned throughout the realm for his gifts in poetry and painting?
As an old retainer from the emperor’s princely residence, Zhang Yuan understood Emperor Jianhong’s ambitions and methods all too well. The emperor’s sudden attack today was not because Zhang Yuan’s offenses were especially grave, but because, at this moment, his death held greater value than his life. There had to be hidden circumstances of which he knew nothing.
Every name signed to the memorials belonged to a famously unaffiliated minister. Who could command them?
The noble military faction? Impossible. Many among them were friendly with him, and he had taken the Tenth Prince’s slingshot for Count Yongfeng’s sake. They would never stab him in the back.
The civil officials and aristocratic clans? They were currently racking their brains to secure positions in Luoyang. They would never create unnecessary complications.
Who else remained? Who possessed such immense power yet could conceal themselves soundlessly in the shadows?
A bone-deep cold spread from the depths of his heart. At this moment, when his very life hung in the balance, his mind unexpectedly began to wander. One minister after another kneeling in this hall and pleading for mercy, one prominent household after another wailing themselves hoarse, and pool after pool of blood flowing through the Eastern Market flashed through his mind like scenes viewed from a galloping horse.
Emperor Jianhong called, “Guards,” and Yu Shuang Xi immediately entered with soldiers, who seized Zhang Yuan beneath the arms.
Zhang Yuan struggled free of their hands, slowly lowered himself, and struck his forehead against the floor. With an expression that was neither crying nor smiling, he said, “This servant has failed Your Majesty’s grace. I beg Your Majesty to calm your anger and take care not to harm your imperial health. This servant… kowtows to Your Majesty and bids farewell!”
The hall and its surroundings were as silent as death. Only the repeated sound of his forehead striking the floor could be heard clearly.
When Zhang Yuan finally raised himself, the Yulin Guards waiting nearby did not wait for Emperor Jianhong’s command. Acting together, they dragged him from the hall.
Watching the light upon the imperial desk recede farther and farther away, Zhang Yuan was suddenly overwhelmed by the terror of approaching death. Forgetting himself, he cried out, “Your Majesty, once this servant is no longer at your side, please take care of your imperial health! Wear more clothing when the nights are cold, and do not indulge too much in coolness when the weather is hot…” Every word overflowed with emotion and seemed capable of moving anyone who heard it.
Emperor Jianhong remained expressionless throughout. Only after Zhang Yuan had been taken far away did he mockingly remark, “Even on the verge of death, he still puts on an excellent performance!”
Yu Shuang Xi stood silently to one side.
Emperor Jianhong opened his mouth, seemingly unaccustomed to receiving no agreement. After a pause, he said, “Do not send the case through the Directorate of Ceremonial. Transfer it to Dali Temple and have it resolved swiftly.”
Only then did Yu Shuang Xi answer, “This servant obeys.”
⸻
News that Zhang Yuan and his followers had been dismissed and placed under investigation spread rapidly outward from the imperial palace.
Zhang Yuan had served Emperor Jianhong for many years, from the time he was a prince until he became sovereign. He possessed exceptional skill in discerning the emperor’s intentions and judging precisely how far he could go. Although the censors had impeached him numerous times for greed, corruption, and abuse of the law, he had relied upon Emperor Jianhong’s favor and remained firmly in power for years.
Yet this powerful eunuch—whose position was commonly believed to be so deeply rooted that only a new emperor could shake it—had suddenly fallen. The reason behind it compelled everyone to think deeply, investigate carefully, and grow increasingly afraid.
Without warning, Haojing fell silent.
Count Yongfeng’s Estate was especially quiet and well-behaved.
Inside the estate, however, it remained as lively as ever. As Fu Fu’s primary management target, Fu Xi Yan had to endure a loving lecture lasting one incense stick every morning. “…In any case, behave yourself these next few days! Stay at home and don’t run outside!”
As always, the conversation concluded with Count Yongfeng’s roar.
Fu Xi Yan might complain, but he had no intention of disobeying.
After all—
His recent work with the Brocade Guard was exciting enough that he had no need for entertainment after his shift.
Originally, everyone transferred from the Yulin Guard, including members of the Chu faction, had felt more or less uneasy about joining a newly formed guard. However, Chu Guang was far too busy preparing for their departure to bother with them. Following the principle of convenience, he simply dumped them on the Jinwu Guard.
From that moment onward, the Brocade Guard began its happy life sharing a den with the Jinwu Guard like snakes and rats.
They ran one lap during drills, rested for three, and then followed the Jinwu Guard out on patrol.
They wandered east and strolled west. When the sun grew hot, they inspected restaurants; when their stomachs became hungry, they drank meat porridge; and the moment the sun tilted westward, they immediately left, absolutely refusing to remain behind as overtime dogs. With a life like this, what more could anyone ask for?
Alas, happy days never lasted long.
Once the Directorate of Astronomy selected an auspicious date, preparations began for the Brocade Guard to escort the Third Prince out of the capital. Apart from the staff of the prince’s residence, officials from the Ministry of Works who would supervise construction of the new imperial palace were also traveling with them.
Before his departure, the women of the household gave him several new outfits. His two elder brothers were more practical and presented him with great handfuls of copper coins and a small amount of silver fragments. These were placed inside a money pouch made by Fu Xia Qing and hung from his waist, weighing heavily against it.
Fu Xi Yan said emotionally, “Brother, even a modest gift carries deep affection, but banknotes are much easier to carry.”
Fu Li An smiled. “Luoyang is thousands of li away. How could you enter a city whenever you wished? Small change will be more useful.”
Fu Xi Yan found this perfectly reasonable and could not help missing modern mobile payments. Unfortunately, at the rate he was progressing through the technology tree, he would probably have to wait until his next… next-next lifetime before he could even develop the outer casing for electrical cables.
Merely thinking about it filled him with despair.
His expression was so dejected that Fu Fu, who had instinctively prepared to deliver another lecture, swallowed the speech he had spent the entire night composing. Even Madam Fu, who ordinarily paid little attention to the concubine-born sons and daughters, offered him a few unusually warm words of comfort.
Fu Xuan was more direct. He shoved a handful of banknotes into Fu Xi Yan’s hands, and Fu Xi Yan immediately beamed with joy.
Fu Fu: “…” He really was a debt collector from a previous life!
⸻
In the early hours of the day they departed, dense mist blanketed the city.
Emperor Jianhong and the civil and military officials gathered along Danfeng Gate Avenue to see them off.
The immense ceremonial procession was concealed within the hazy grayness, and the road ahead was indistinct.
Because Fu Xi Yan’s physique made him impossible to conceal, he had been assigned to the very rear of the procession. Taking advantage of the exceptionally favorable weather, he leaned against his horse and caught up on sleep.
He had to admit that meeting the leadership truly exhausted the people. Wake at one, assemble at three, hold the ceremony at five… The time spent waiting was enough for him to play several rounds of mahjong with the Duke of Zhou in his dreams!
After what felt like an eternity, the emperor finally finished his speech, and the procession set out.
By then, the mist was gradually dispersing, allowing Fu Xi Yan to see the formation more clearly.
The Brocade Guard had been divided into five groups—the front, forward-middle, center, rear-middle, and rear—to protect the procession. Fu Xi Yan was assigned to the last group, guarding the baggage train. The accompanying family members traveled in the middle, while the Third Prince and the others led from the front.
At the beginning of the chen hour—around seven o’clock—they finally passed through Changle Gate.
The chen hour was also known as the mealtime hour and had been breakfast time since ancient days. Although Fu Xi Yan had eaten some millet porridge after waking, food consumed in the middle of the night was like afternoon tea: it satisfied a craving without occupying any space in the stomach. Once the proper hour arrived, hunger still came as expected.
He had just begun taking out the flatbread prepared by his family to nibble when an order came from the front to increase their pace.
Fu Xi Yan: “…”
Rotten Chu Guang, heartless brute; off to Luoyang with no food to boot. Other homes have curling smoke and fragrant fare, while my empty stomach only rumbles there—hey, rumbles there!
No wonder people said suffering revealed talent.
After following Chu Guang a little longer, Fu Xi Yan would soon be able to join Meng Jiao in writing a sequel to Lament of Bitter Cold.
However, military orders were as immovable as mountains. No matter how many times he complained inwardly, he still kept pace with the main group and galloped onward.
Fortunately, no matter how cold and heartless Chu Guang might be, he was still a mortal with ordinary needs for food, drink, and relieving himself. At around nine o’clock, he finally ordered everyone to stop for a brief rest.
Fu Xi Yan rubbed his thighs while chewing his flatbread and keeping an eye on the time so he could go relieve himself. He was truly busy beyond measure.
Yet at precisely that moment, one of Chu Guang’s confidants came over to make matters worse and ordered him to boil water.
Inside, Fu Xi Yan had already cursed enough to flood the Yellow River. Outwardly, however, he obediently rose. In his haste, he stuffed the entire flatbread into his mouth at once. Because he swallowed too quickly, it lodged in his throat. His eyes bulged, both hands clutched his neck, and his body slowly toppled backward.
The colleagues behind him were immediately terrified. Working together, they caught him, gently lowered him to the ground, pounded his chest and back, and descended into complete chaos.
The confidant stared dazedly at Fu Xi Yan, who appeared to be breathing his last, unable to understand how matters had somehow developed this way. Seeing that they were about to resume their journey, he had no choice but to slink back in defeat.
Fu Xi Yan watched his retreating figure but felt no joy in his victory.
He knew this was merely the first step of a journey spanning ten thousand li. Many more bitter days lay ahead.
Sure enough, that evening, Chu Shao Yang arrived with several men in an aggressive formation to assign him another task.
Fu Xi Yan had expected this. He efficiently finished relieving himself, then ate while waiting. When they arrived, he said nothing, dusted off his backside, and immediately followed them.
Seeing him cooperate so readily made Chu Shao Yang uneasy instead. He followed Fu Xi Yan all the way to the fire pit and then sat down beside him, looking every inch like a conscientious prison warden.
This time, however, Fu Xi Yan had no intention of slacking off. He obediently lit the fire and boiled the water.
Chu Guang’s confidant remarked sourly from the side, “Young Master Fu didn’t choke while eating this time?”
“I haven’t eaten yet.” Fu Xi Yan smiled brightly at Chu Shao Yang. “Now that you mention it, I am rather hungry. Brother Shao Yang, when you go beg for dinner, remember to beg for a portion for me too.”
Chu Shao Yang, who had been forcibly reduced to “begging for food,” smiled without warmth. “I fear that a portion based on my appetite would not be enough to fill Brother Fu’s stomach.”
Fu Xi Yan readily accepted the suggestion. “Then beg for two portions.”
Chu Shao Yang and the confidant: “…” Who would have thought that a person’s skin could be described as impregnable as a fortress and steady as Mount Tai? If a city wall could possess such qualities, it would indeed inspire awe and prove impossible to conquer.
This was Chu Shao Yang’s first time deliberately making someone’s life difficult, so he was not yet proficient in the business. Once the water had boiled, he allowed Fu Xi Yan to return.
But this was only the beginning.
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