Wish You All the Best - Chapter 113

Chapter 113

As the stars shifted and time flowed like water, the snows of another year melted away, and the spring of the tenth year of Zhaoping arrived as scheduled.

In these three years, internally, natural disasters had greatly diminished. Apart from the locust plague in Shanxi last year and the floods in Anhui the year before, all other regions had enjoyed bountiful harvests. The state coffers were full, and for the first time, there was a surplus in the national treasury.

Externally, the Hu people had been utterly defeated in the battle three years ago. Having suffered a devastating blow to their vitality, they still trembled at the mere mention of Pei You’an’s name. According to the signed treaty, they had retreated five hundred miles to the north, and it was absolutely impossible for them to have the capacity to provoke the borders on a large scale within the next ten years.

As for the imperial clan, by the end of last year, the Emperor had liquidated the last of the powerful princes, Prince Jing'an, who had been secretly reported for having rebellious intentions. Over the past three years, the last seven or eight remaining princes—including Prince Jing'an—who were considered powerful enough or capable of following the example of Prince Changle, had one after another died by suicide out of fear of their crimes, whether those crimes were substantiated or fabricated. Some had their titles stripped and were reduced to commoners, and not a single one enjoyed a peaceful end. The Emperor’s firm resolve and iron-fisted methods in pacifying the vassal states were evident; the remaining surviving princes were all terrified, fearing that catastrophe would befall them, and one after another, they voluntarily surrendered their military power. The imperial court had thoroughly reclaimed all elite armed forces from the hands of the vassal princes and strictly limited their authority. From then on, high-ranking officials of the first rank in the imperial court no longer needed to prostrate themselves when meeting the princes. Thus, the measures to limit the vassal states, which had begun since Xiao Lie ascended the throne, finally saw results and achieved remarkable victory in the tenth year of their arduous advancement.

The new year, by all accounts, should have been a year of auspicious omens, with the nation at peace and the people secure. However, just as the citizens of the entire city were looking forward to the Lantern Festival celebrations, the atmosphere within the imperial court suddenly turned heavy.

The sound of firecrackers from New Year’s Eve still lingered in the ears, but only two days had passed when news spread that the Emperor likely could not hold on much longer; it might be a matter of these very days.

The Emperor’s health had been deteriorating since the former Crown Prince’s rebellion and subsequent execution several years ago. In the last two years, he had shown signs of exhaustion, but he had managed to hold on until just a few days before the end of the year, when news of Prince Jing’an’s execution arrived. Perhaps having finally let his guard down, it was said that the Emperor collapsed that very night.

Once he collapsed, no matter how much effort the imperial physicians exerted, they were powerless to bring him back.

At the start of the year, the court officials were still on spring break. When this news spread, officials like He Gongpu, Zhang Shiyong, Lu Xiang, and Liu Jiushao came to the East Pavilion, where the Cabinet was located, to wait for orders every day. Learning that for most of the past few days the Emperor had been in a lethargic sleep, unable to take in even a single grain of rice and relying solely on medicinal broths and ginseng soup to sustain his life, everyone’s expression turned somber. Unanimously, they all looked toward Pei You’an.

For the past two years, the Emperor had let go of routine court matters, handing them over to the Cabinet headed by Pei You’an. Outside of administrative duties, Pei You’an also personally tutored the Imperial Grandson. The Imperial Grandson held the Grand Preceptor in extremely high regard; the bond between master and student was deep and sincere.

The Imperial Grandson was not only naturally intelligent, but even at such a young age, his every gesture and movement carried an air of solemnity. Among the court officials, even veterans like He and Zhang dared not act recklessly in front of this seven-year-old child. As for the discussions concerning the legitimacy of his origins that had secretly circulated in the court when he was first named Imperial Grandson, they had long since vanished, and no one mentioned a word of them anymore.

Everyone knew clearly that the old dynasty was about to pass, and what was to come was the era of the Imperial Grandson’s Grand Preceptor—who now wielded power over the entire court—and his young imperial student who, because he was not yet of age, required tutelage.

Everyone knew that on the night the Emperor collapsed, Pei You’an had entered the palace overnight. From the next day on, the spring break was suspended. Every day, apart from inquiring about the Emperor’s condition, he spent the rest of his time in the East Pavilion, handling Cabinet affairs as usual. Since the emotional bond between the Imperial Grandson and the Emperor was very deep, and the Imperial Grandson was heartbroken and anxious—unable to sleep at night—Pei You’an, fearing that the young boy would damage his health from excessive grief and knowing there were no elder princesses in the palace to guide him, had brought his own wife into the palace these past days to temporarily look after the Imperial Grandson and comfort him.

Regarding this arrangement, He, Zhang, and others naturally had no objections.

Inside the East Pavilion, under the gaze of several cabinet colleagues, Pei You’an remained silent, saying not a word.

He looked no different than usual.

...

Chirp—

With a sharp whistle piercing the air, a firework rose into the night sky over the Lantern Market, not far from the eastern outer wall of the imperial palace, bursting into glorious blossoms of light. Before one disappeared, the next raced to bloom in competition. Gradually, the entire city was filled with fireworks, vying for brilliance, illuminating the night sky of the capital on this Lantern Festival.

Since falling ill, the Emperor had not taken a single step out of the Chengguang Palace.

This palace was located near the West Garden and was originally quite far from the East Market. But tonight, with the city ablaze with lanterns and flower-like fireworks, the crackling sounds from the distant night sky drifted faintly over the high palace walls.

Li Yuangui had been keeping vigil by the Emperor’s bedside for half a month straight. When overcome with exhaustion, he would snatch a brief, restless nap on a floor mat.

The imperial physicians had just left not long ago. The Emperor had been in a coma for two days and two nights, and even the life-sustaining ginseng soup was now difficult to feed him.

As the physicians retreated, the terror in their eyes as they looked at the Emperor—who seemed to have already fallen into an eternal sleep on the dragon couch—was plain to see.

Li Yuangui looked at the bowl of medicine, half of which remained. Suppressing the grief welling up in his heart, he called for a palace attendant to come forward, intending to try one more time to feed the medicine down the Emperor’s throat. Suddenly, the eyelids of the man on the bed flickered slightly.

Whoosh—

Faintly, from outside the distant palace walls, it seemed as if the sound of more fireworks drifted in.

The Emperor’s eyelids trembled even more violently.

Li Yuangui saw this and lunged forward, anxiously calling out, "Your Majesty!"

Xiao Lie’s eyes finally opened, slowly.

Whoosh—

It seemed there was another sound in the distance.

Xiao Lie appeared to be listening intently. A moment later, his gaze gradually cleared.

"Your Majesty, you have awakened? Please take your medicine! Once the medicine is taken, Your Majesty’s illness will be cured!"

Li Yuangui’s eyes filled with hot, excited tears, his voice trembling slightly as he hurriedly picked up the bowl of medicine, scooped a spoonful, and brought it to the Emperor’s lips.

Xiao Lie seemed not to hear, remaining motionless. He continued to listen to the firework explosions in the distant night sky. After a long time, he asked in a voice so weak and hoarse it was barely audible: "Is tonight the Lantern Festival?"

"Yes. Your Majesty has been asleep for half a month..." Li Yuangui’s voice choked up again.

"I have been asleep for half a month already..."

Xiao Lie repeated the words, murmuring to himself.

"So fast... Just now, I dreamed of the Lantern Festival night when I was fourteen... When I woke up, she was already gone. In the blink of an eye, it has been over thirty years... Fortunately, I am leaving too. I am going to find her..."

He sighed softly, unable to distinguish whether it was joy or sorrow.

Li Yuangui lowered his head to wipe away his tears.

"Go, bring me the items in that box."

Li Yuangui was startled for a moment, then understood. He hurried to a gold-inlaid, lacquer dragon-patterned cabinet, took out the key, opened the door, and brought out a box. He took out the jade pendant kept inside and, with great care, placed it into the Emperor’s hand by the bedside.

The warm, cool beauty of the jade settled into Xiao Lie’s open palm. He closed his eyes, slowly tightening his fingers, and finally pinched the piece of jade firmly within his palm.

In his dream moments ago, that year, he was fourteen and she was thirteen. It had also been such a night of the Lantern Festival, filled with flowers and lanterns. He remembered the moon rising over the willow branches. He had snuck out of the palace, riding a fine horse with a silver saddle, a roguish youth. He spurred his spirited horse, deliberately charging in front of the girl, knocking over the rabbit-shaped lantern she was carrying.

She naturally recognized him. Since they were little, they had often met, and she knew he relied on the Emperor’s favor to run wild in the palace. She was annoyed, but restrained by their status, she dared not scold him. She just turned away angrily, meaning to call her family to accompany her. He chased after her and, in a flash, stuffed the jade pendant he had carved himself, blade by blade, a long time ago—the one he kept hidden next to his skin, still carrying his body heat—into her palm.

She loved orchids; he knew that.

"Consider it my compensation to you. Take it!"

He tilted his proud chin, acting as if he didn't care at all, even though his heart was pounding violently and his face was slightly flushed.

She was very surprised and very shy. She quickly stuffed the jade back into his hand and turned to leave, as if it were something that would bite.

The young prince hung the jade pendant on a willow branch and called out to her retreating back: "I’m hanging it here. If you don’t want it, then don't take it!"

She ignored him. After walking a few steps, she saw her family suddenly approaching from the opposite direction. She turned her head back swiftly and saw him still standing by the willow, his eyes glittering, reflecting the fireworks from the flower bridge opposite. He was staring straight at her, his handsome face—full of youthful spirit—wearing an annoying, mischievous grin. She couldn't help but feel flustered and panicked that her family might see him. In a hurry, she turned and ran to that willow tree, snatched the dangling jade pendant, and hid it swiftly in the palm of her hand.