In Jinyang Palace, it was five days later when Murong Yan finally regained consciousness. Wang Yunzhao was kneeling by the couch. When a palace maid brought in the medicinal decoction, Murong Yan swept it aside, shattering the bowl. Instantly, every servant in the bedchamber dropped to their knees, trembling in fear.
Murong Yan glanced at Wang Yunzhao and finally asked, "What happened?" Judging by the eunuch’s expression, it was no small matter.
His voice was dry and raspy. Wang Yunzhao served him warm water, his eyes never daring to meet the Emperor's. Murong Yan said, "What? Are my words now beneath your notice?"
Wang Yunzhao hurriedly replied, "This old servant wouldn't dare! Your Majesty..." He hesitated for a long moment before saying, "It is just that Your Majesty has only just woken from a grave illness. Some matters should perhaps wait until your dragon body is more recovered."
Murong Yan drank half a cup of water and slowly sat up. "I will decide when and how to handle my affairs. It is not your place to interfere."
Wang Yunzhao gritted his teeth and finally spoke. "Five days ago... citing Your Majesty’s critical condition as the reason... the Queen... General Zuo..."
"Go on," Murong Yan commanded.
Wang Yunzhao whispered, "The Queen ordered General Zuo to be executed and cast into Your Majesty’s mausoleum."
The cup in Murong Yan’s hand hit the floor, porcelain shards flying everywhere. He looked up and asked slowly, "What?"
Wang Yunzhao did not repeat himself; he knew Murong Yan had heard him clearly. He expected a thunderous rage, but Murong Yan only said, "Though I was gravely ill, she was not a fool. Would she truly allow herself to be executed just because of a word from the Queen?"
Wang Yunzhao replied, "But... this servant sent men to the mausoleum to verify. Your Majesty... it is true."
Murong Yan slowly stepped off the couch. Wang Yunzhao rushed to help him with his shoes. "Your Majesty, you have just woken. Where are you going?"
"I don't believe it," Murong Yan said. "Prepare the carriage. To the Imperial Mausoleum!"
"Your Majesty, the night is deep and the dew is heavy. It is cold outside. Please, wait until dawn," Wang Yunzhao pleaded.
Murong Yan ignored him entirely, striding out of the bedchamber.
The Imperial Mausoleum was located in the eastern suburbs of Jinyang. By the time Murong Yan arrived, dawn was just beginning to break. Despite his recent illness, he walked quickly. Wang Yunzhao stumbled along behind him as they entered the underground palace. The corridor was long, and Murong Yan’s pace finally slowed. Wang Yunzhao and the guards followed in absolute silence.
In the dark depths, no amount of magnificent carving or decoration could mask the oppressive desolation. They reached the end of the passage, where the bronze doors stood shut, beast-head rings hanging from them. A figure stood before the doors, a lamp in the left hand and a halberd in the right, guarding the entrance in silence. It was a short distance, yet it took him a long time to walk it.
The bronze had a slight reddish tint, but it felt exceptionally cold to the touch. He gently stroked the body of the statue for a long, long time before murmuring in a low voice, "This isn't real, is it?"
There was no response. The statue even bore a faint smile, eyes looking straight ahead with a serene and peaceful expression. Murong Yan raised his hand and sliced off its pinky finger. Within the cast bronze and iron, the woman’s finger had been thoroughly permeated by the metal, yet the faint outlines of meridians and bone were still visible.
In that instant, it was as if all the strength was drained from his body. He leaned his forehead against the statue’s shoulder, his fingertips trembling violently as he gripped its wrist.
No one dared to look up at him, afraid to witness his trembling. After a long while, Wang Yunzhao whispered, "Your Majesty?"
Eventually, Murong Yan stood straight. His voice had regained its cold, stern edge. "Let’s go."
Wang Yunzhao looked worried. Murong Yan turned back to look at the statue one last time. "This person... she seemed tender, but in truth, she was incomparably cruel. All these years, coming and going, calculating every step... only to end it like this, just to trade it for my grief. Her heart truly deserves execution."
Wang Yunzhao didn't dare respond. Murong Yan stared at the smiling statue and said, "I refuse to be heartbroken." He tilted his head slightly, his face full of arrogance. "I will not grant you your wish. Even if we do not share a bed in this life, a hundred years from now, you will still be here."
He straightened his back and strode out of the mausoleum, never looking back at the statue at the end of the corridor. Outside, the sun was fully up. As he exited the tomb, he shielded his eyes from the sudden, blinding light. From that moment on, his world fell into a terminal decline.
In the palace, Jiang Bilan had been living in constant dread since she heard he had awakened. Crown Prince Murong Ze and Murong Dui also sensed the aura of danger. The first thing Murong Yan did upon waking was not to summon anyone, but to go directly to the mausoleum.
By nightfall, before Jiang Bilan could retire, Murong Yan entered. She looked him up and down and said, "Congratulations to Your Majesty on recovering from your old illness. May your sacred body remain in good health."
Murong Yan did not speak to her. He simply gestured, and Wang Yunzhao stepped forward with his head bowed, holding an imperial edict. He announced loudly, "Queen, please kneel to receive the decree."
Jiang Bilan was not surprised. She knelt slowly. Wang Yunzhao began to read. When she heard the words "deposed from the throne, demoted to a commoner, and moved to Changning Pavilion," she looked up at that familiar yet strange face. It turned out that when this moment finally arrived, the layers of fear and sorrow in her heart actually settled into a strange calm.
She said, "I know I have done many wrong things in my life. But looking back, even if I regret them, there is no way to undo them. Only my first meeting with Your Majesty is what truly cuts my heart like a knife. Your Majesty, why did I have to meet you? And why did I have to fall in love with you?
In this life, you wove a dream, letting me spend my most beautiful years clutching a stone to my breast. I spent every waking moment scheming for it, thinking it would eventually show some heart and soul. In the end, you slowly forced me to open my hands, only for me to find that there was nothing in my palms at all."
The guards came forward, stripped her of her queenly robes, and dragged her out. Jiang Bilan did not struggle. Tears blurred everything; a lifetime of glory had turned to nothing. After all her calculations, that immense wealth and boundless splendor left not a single trace in her heart.
Murong Yan stood in the Phoenix Nest Palace for a long time. He remembered the year when a young Jiang Bilan, her heart first blooming with love, had arrived in red hunting gear leading a white horse. She had smiled and said, "Brother Yan, you're here too?"
He had smiled back, casually snapped a rivet, and while stroking the horse's back, pricked it under her saddle. The pretty girl had fallen from the horse and into his arms—once shy and timid, once full of charm.
He walked out of the Phoenix Nest Palace, and the past dissolved inch by inch.
The next day, Murong Yan deposed the Crown Prince and demoted Murong Ze and Murong Dui to commoners, ordering them to move out of the palace immediately and find a residence among the common people in Jinyang. Naturally, there were those in the court who opposed this, but this time, he overrode all dissent with absolute autocracy.
Even Wang Yunzhao did not offer a word of advice.
That afternoon, Murong Yan issued an order to recall Prince Anyang, Murong Xuan, and also enfeoffed the son of Lady Ke, Murong Yu, as the Prince of Wei.
With only these two princes remaining in the palace, the officials were forced to reconsider their allegiances. Lady Ke’s heart beat like a drum. Although Murong Xuan currently seemed to have the advantage, Murong Yan had always been wary of Zuo Canglang because her power was too great and her faction too numerous.
Now, compared to Murong Yu, did Murong Xuan not also have deep roots? Murong Yan disliked her, but he also disliked Zhitong; she might still have a chance. The priority was to ensure Jiang Bilan could never rise again.
That night, at Changning Pavilion.
Jiang Bilan draped her own cloak over Jiang Biyao’s shoulders. "It’s late, and the dew is heavy outside. Don’t sit here."
Jiang Biyao’s hair was disheveled, and she was muttering something under her breath, crying one moment and laughing the next. Jiang Bilan helped her up. "Let’s go." Suddenly, someone entered. Jiang Bilan turned to look; it was Lady Ke.
She said, "You coming here now... surely it isn't to pay your respects to me?"
Lady Ke replied, "Not at all. I simply brought some pastries for Your Grace. I received your care in the past, and seeing you fall to such a state, I truly couldn't bear it."
Jiang Bilan reached out. "Give them here."
Lady Ke handed her the food box. Without looking at her, Jiang Bilan opened it, picked out a pastry, and fed it to Jiang Biyao. Jiang Biyao opened her mouth, and seemingly finding the taste good, began stuffing them in with her hands. Jiang Bilan said, "When you get to the other side, our parents will look after you. Though you were willful, we are sisters; how long could I truly blame you?"
Lady Ke felt something was wrong with those words and forced a smile. "What does Your Grace mean by that?"
Jiang Bilan helped Jiang Biyao into the room. As she closed the door, she said slowly, "Go and enjoy your beautiful dream. Do not come here again."
She shut the door, and the last sliver of light vanished. Lady Ke stood in the wind for a while before her maid finally said, "Lady Ke, let us go back. This place is eerie; it’s frightening just to look at it."
Lady Ke hummed in agreement, turned her head, and took one last look at the window barred with wooden planks.
Jiang Biyao’s death caused no ripples. A former favorite consort was quietly buried in a thin coffin.
Murong Yan began to refuse his medicine, even forbidding the imperial physicians from taking his pulse. His body seemed to return to normal, but only Wang Yunzhao knew how this man tossed and turned in his bedchamber at night, enduring the agony of his chronic illness in solitude.
He never appointed a new heir, and the officials didn't dare mention it. However, Murong Xuan and Murong Yu stayed by his side, and over the next two years, both grew into young men.
Old matters turned to dust. Wen Qi, Zuo Canglang, Yuan Xi, Leng Feiyan, Yang Lianting—one by one, these people slowly faded into the dust of time. He appeared to have healed, to have forgotten entirely.
In the early summer of this year, Murong Yan’s spirits were unusually high. After offering sacrifices to the ancestors at Chengtian Pavilion, the group went hunting at South Mountain. Murong Yan was in the lead, with Wang Yunzhao attending him, followed by Zhou Xin, Murong Xuan, Murong Yu, and others. Xue Dongting led the guards for protection.
The grand procession ascended South Mountain. Murong Yan galloped ahead, but as he drew his bow, he felt a sudden, dull pain in his chest and abdomen. He flipped off his horse, and Wang Yunzhao rushed forward to support him. "Your Majesty? Has the old illness flared up again?"
He frantically urged the servants to bring medicine. Murong Yan looked up and suddenly saw a patch of wild roses blooming in fiery profusion. Beneath them, daylilies grew lush and green, stretching toward the horizon. He froze on the spot. Behind him, Zhou Xin came forward and said, "So many years have passed, yet this place hasn't changed. Does Your Majesty remember? You once picked up a child here..."
He finally remembered. Many years ago on South Mountain, there were daylilies all over the ground, and wild roses blooming into a vast sea of flowers.
Beyond the endless wall of flowers, he had used a rope to catch a wild horse. The horse’s long neigh had startled a pack of wolves. He had looked up and seen her.
The sky was a clear, deep blue, and the mountains were like dark silk. Amidst the vast expanse of flowers and green grass, he had said with a smile, "Since you appeared at the eastern corner of the mountain and keep company with the wolves of the firmament, your surname shall be Zuo, and your name, Canglang."
Memory is a blade that cuts through gold and jade; it sliced through his heart and lungs with such sharpness. He pointed at that patch of wild roses and daylilies, a sound caught in his throat. He used all his strength, but in the end, he couldn't utter a single word. Wang Yunzhao followed his finger and hurriedly shouted, "Men! Dig up all those wild roses! Not a single leaf is to remain!"
The guards shouted their assent and rushed forward. Murong Yan clutched his chest, able only to shake his head. Yet those flowers and leaves were torn up by the roots before his eyes.
The focus left his eyes; in an instant, everything became a blur. In a daze, he returned to a midsummer afternoon years ago, at his manor in Jinyang. The sun was scorching, and lush wild roses climbed the elegant courtyard walls. Pink and red blossoms bloomed amidst green leaves. The wind stirred the scent of dust, and the wall of flowers swayed like waves.
the young Second Prince, dressed in feather-white, parted the hanging vines to see the ground covered in fallen petals and leaves.
That year, she was sleeping among the flowers.
He spat out a mouthful of blood, the droplets staining the scenery he had missed. Her smile remained among the roses and daylilies, as light as a passing cloud.
That night, Murong Yan, the King of Yan, passed away. Wang Yunzhao brought out the imperial decree the King had written during his life. Murong Xuan set it aside. Da Xi Qin, the Minister of Agriculture, took out another decree and read it before the court. It stated that His Majesty had ordered the throne to be passed to the Prince of Anyang, Murong Xuan.
Wang Yunzhao started to speak but stopped. Murong Xuan took the decree from his hand and casually tossed it into the fire. Da Xi Qin asked, "Does Your Highness not wish to know who the true heir in that decree was?"
Murong Xuan shook his head and said, "Pass my royal decree: Enfeoff the Grand Consort Zhitong as the Empress Dowager. My father did not have many concubines; Lady Ke shall enter the mausoleum to be buried with him. As for my two elder brothers and my younger brother, they intended to rebel and died in the chaos of the army."
Xue Dongting and Zhou Xin understood and accepted the order. Murong Xuan suddenly said, "They are my flesh and blood after all. Are you two really planning to go and kill them?"
The two looked at each other, confused. Murong Xuan said, "Find some death row prisoners; just keep the heads. Send them... to Mount Xiaoquan, to my master. Ask him to take good care of them for me."
Zhou Xin hesitated and asked, "Does Your Highness not worry they will attempt a comeback?"
Murong Xuan said, "If I worried about the sky falling, would I have to destroy the world? Go." Zhou Xin and Xue Dongting looked at each other, unsure if he was serious, and didn't move. Murong Xuan patted their shoulders and said, "Actually, I really wanted to be a decadent ruler, spending my life in pleasure without a care for the world's suffering. It’s just that..."
He pulled the charred remains of the imperial decree from the fire and said softly, "It’s just that after she left, I feel as though the mountains and rivers are all old friends. I cannot bear to see the sun and moon wither." Having said that, he suddenly turned to Zhou Xin. "Is A-Zuo really dead?"
Zhou Xin was stunned. "The body is in the mausoleum. Why does Your Highness ask?"
Murong Xuan said, "She wouldn't enter the tomb to accompany my father. Zhou Xin, they say you've known her since childhood. She never truly loved my father, did she?"
Zhou Xin was silent for a long time before saying, "The word 'love'... if one has not been trapped within it, one cannot truly feel what another feels. How could Your Highness understand?"
Murong Xuan looked out at the distant starry sky and said, "Perhaps."
At the same time, Xue Dongting and Zhou Xin led troops to the Prince of Wei’s residence and "killed" Prince Murong Yu on the spot. Immediately after, they "executed" the elder brothers Murong Ze and Murong Dui, who had already been demoted to commoners.
As the sky hovered between dark and light, the funeral bells of the capital rang nine times. The sound was resonant, echoing throughout the city of Jinyang.
The traveler starts awake in his mountain lodge, realizing the great mountain has collapsed.
***
