Succession
The next day at court, the atmosphere in the Golden Palace was solemn. Su Jing sat upright on the dragon throne, his gaze sweeping over the officials below, his voice calm and unwavering: "Last night, the Emperor Emeritus died suddenly in the Hall of Union."
Upon hearing this, the hall fell silent.
The court has long been replaced by Su Jing, and all the officials are newly promoted. No one dares to question the emperor's words. Only the old minister Li Chonggu hesitated before stepping forward and bowing, saying, "Your Majesty, although my daughter Shen Ruoqing's crimes are unforgivable, she is pregnant with the emperor's child. Could we wait until she gives birth to the prince before executing her?"
"No need." Su Jing raised her hand to interrupt him, her tone indifferent as if she were talking about something unimportant. "The child in her womb has already been lost."
There was no trace of regret in his eyes, as if what he had lost was not an unborn life, but just an insignificant thing.
Upon seeing this, the assembled officials fell silent, none daring to utter another word.
Li Chonggu was still not giving up. After hesitating for a moment, he said again, "Now that the rebellion in Jiangnan has been quelled and the court is stable, Your Majesty is in the prime of life. Could you consider expanding the harem to ensure the continuation of the imperial line and stabilize the foundation of the country?"
"Doctor Li is as concerned as ever about the ancestral temple and future generations."
Su Jing chuckled, his tone laced with mockery, causing Li Chonggu to blush instantly and stand frozen in place, at a loss for what to do.
Su Jing suddenly stood up, his dragon robe fluttering in the wind, his gaze sharpening abruptly: "I have summoned you all here today to announce another matter." He gestured towards the outside of the hall, "Huo Yan, bring the man up."
Huo Yan entered in response, carrying a three-year-old child in his arms. It was Su Qi's son, Su Zhi. The child wore a small brocade robe, his big, dark eyes wide open, looking timidly at the civil and military officials in the hall, his little hands tightly clutching Huo Yan's clothes.
"This is Su Zhi, the son of the former Crown Prince Su Qi." Su Jing's voice was firm and resolute. "The child is innocent, and I have observed that he is intelligent and quick-witted. Therefore, I have specially appointed him as the Crown Prince and will hold the investiture ceremony on a chosen day."
"boom--!"
These words were like a thunderclap, and the Golden Palace instantly erupted in chaos.
"Your Majesty, you mustn't!" A newly appointed censor immediately stepped forward to stop him. "Your Majesty is young and vigorous, and has no biological heir yet. Why rush to establish a crown prince? Moreover, Su Zhi is the son of a disgraced official. His father, Su Qi, has formed a faction and plotted rebellion. The evidence against him is conclusive. If he is established as crown prince, it will be difficult to win the support of the people!"
Another minister followed up: "Moreover, Shen Ji once used Su Zhi as a cover to occupy Jiangnan and cause trouble. If he is made crown prince, it will inevitably make the remnants of his old faction restless, which will not be conducive to the stability of the court!"
Startled by the commotion inside the hall, Su Zhi shrank back, gripping Huo Yan's clothes even tighter, his bewildered eyes filled with terror.
Su Jing raised his hand and pressed down, and the hall instantly fell silent. He slowly walked down the steps, stood in front of Su Zhi, squatted down to look him in the eye, and said in a gentle voice, "Look, he's just a three-year-old child. What does Su Qi's sin have to do with him?"
He stood up and looked at the assembled officials, his tone suddenly turning sharp: "Besides, he is my own nephew. What do you expect me to do? Follow the example of the tyrants of the previous dynasty, harming a child and killing my own brother?"
These words left the assembled officials speechless.
Yes, even if Su Zhi is the son of a disgraced official, he is still Su Jing's blood relative. If he were to truly harbor murderous intent towards a three-year-old child, Su Jing would inevitably earn the reputation of a tyrant.
Chu Yiran watched this scene from inside the hall, his heart filled with mixed emotions.
His senior brother risked his life to protect this child back then, and he was even more afraid that Su Jing would secretly harm the child. Who could have imagined that Su Jing would actually make Su Qi's son the crown prince today...
"My mind is made up." Su Jing stood up, his tone leaving no room for argument. "There is no need to discuss this matter further."
He ignored the reactions of his ministers, turned and walked back to the dragon throne, and said in a deep voice, "Dismiss the court."
——
In the days that followed, the shadow of war faded from Yanjing City, and the courtyard of Qianqing Palace became even more vibrant. Su Jing brought Su Zhi to live and raise him personally, not only inviting learned scholars to teach him poetry, literature, and etiquette, but also setting aside an hour each day to hold his little hand and teach him swordsmanship.
The warm spring sun shone on the bluestone slabs. Three-year-old Su Zhi, clutching a wooden sword, stumbled around the courtyard, gesturing earnestly. Huo Yan stood under the eaves watching, a smile unconsciously playing on his lips. He turned to Su Jing beside him and said, "Your Majesty, everything is peaceful now. The little crown prince is intelligent and sensible. You can rest assured."
The peach blossoms outside the hall were in full bloom, their pink and white petals drifting down in the wind, clinging to Su Jing's clothes. He looked at Su Zhi's youthful figure, then slowly shook his head, his voice as soft as the wind: "There is one last thing."
"What is it?" Huo Yan pressed, but Su Jing remained silent, only turning his gaze towards the direction of Mobei, his eyes filled with a melancholy that no one could understand.
In the days that followed, Su Jing seemed to truly become the person Chu Yiran had once hoped for. He reduced taxes and levies, lowered the threshold for the imperial examinations, and issued imperial edicts that benefited the country and its people. The city of Yanjing became increasingly prosperous, and the people praised the wisdom of this young emperor.
Watching Su Jing's focused demeanor as he handled official business, Chu Yiran's unease did not dissipate. He had a feeling that beneath Su Jing's calm surface lay an impending storm.
Sure enough, one morning at the end of February, Su Jing led a team of elite guards and quietly left Yanjing for the northern desert, keeping Huo Yan completely in the dark.
Chu Yiran's "soul" was drawn by an invisible force, following behind him all the way, his heart filled with panic—why was Su Jing going to the Northern Desert again? Did he want to repeat the same mistake and provoke another war in the Northern Desert? Wasn't the lesson of losing 30,000 elite troops last time enough?
The winds and sandstorms of the northern desert were still fierce. Su Jing clutched a geomantic map tightly in his hand, its markings repeatedly erased and the edges worn yellow. Chu Yiran then realized that Su Jing had been secretly sending scouts to explore the northern desert, and this map was the result of countless nights of repeated deductions.
The group traveled westward and finally stopped in front of a canyon in the northern desert. Chu Yiran looked at the familiar terrain and his heart sank - this was the place where they had fallen into Helian Chong's ambush. Under the yellow sand lay the loyal bones of 30,000 soldiers, as well as the heroic soul of Chu Zhongling.
In the valleys on either side of the canyon, a squad of soldiers that Su Jing had arranged in advance was already stationed. Upon seeing Su Jing arrive, a captain quickly stepped forward, his face beaming with barely concealed excitement: "Your Majesty! We've found it!"
He held a rusty fragment of armor in his hands and handed it to Su Jing. Su Jing took the fragment and gently stroked it with his fingertips. When his fingertips touched a recessed engraving, his movements stopped—it was a clear character "Chu".
Chu Yiran's gaze was fixed on that fragment, and his eyes instantly reddened. It was a fragment of his father's armor, a relic buried by the yellow sand when he died in battle. Listening to their conversation, Chu Yiran learned that Su Jing had been sending people to search for General Chu's remains, but the vast yellow sands of the northern desert made it difficult to find bones, and after searching for so long, they had only found this one fragment.
Holding the fragment, Su Jing slowly walked into the cave deep in the canyon. He gently placed the fragment on the ground, knelt down, and kowtowed three times deeply before it.
Then he poured a handful of strong liquor from his water bag and sprinkled it on the yellow sand. The liquor seeped into the sand and quickly disappeared without a trace.
“General Chu,” his voice was carried away by the northern desert sands, filled with deep remorse, “it’s my fault… If I hadn’t insisted on fighting this war, you wouldn’t have died, and the 30,000 soldiers wouldn’t be buried here. When we’re in the afterlife, Su Jing will definitely apologize to you all…”
He stood still for a moment before picking up the fragment and turning to his personal guard beside him, saying, "Hurry up and send this to Taixu Temple. Give it to Daoist Jingyang and have him pass it on to Princess Anning."
The guard took the fragment, bowed to accept the order, mounted his horse, and quickly disappeared into the sandstorm of the northern desert.
——
After the soldiers who delivered the fragments rode away, Su Jing did not leave the northern desert. Instead, he set up camp near the canyon.
In the following days, he frowned and studied the geomantic map every day, his eyes scanning the oases marked on the map again and again, trying to find the location of the Helian clan's royal tent.
This was not a spur-of-the-moment decision. Chu Yiran looked at the stacks of scout reports in Su Jing's tent, which detailed the Helian clan's troop deployment, supply lines, and even Helian Chong's daily routine. Clearly, Su Jing had been brewing this revenge plan in his mind for countless days and nights. Compared to his eagerness for quick success during the Battle of Mobei, he now possessed a more frightening level of caution and forbearance.
Su Jing's troops kept changing their encampment according to the geomantic map, and finally found the Helian clan's royal tent half a month later. However, Su Jing did not make any rash moves, but simply set up camp on the nearby sand dunes and ordered all the soldiers to wait quietly.
“Three days from now is the Hu tribe’s sacrificial festival,” Su Jing pointed to the geomantic map and whispered to the soldier commander beside him, “The Helian clan has always attached great importance to this festival. They will surely hold a grand singing and dancing party and the whole army will revel. We will launch a surprise attack after the singing and dancing have ended late at night.”
Three days later, the festival arrived as scheduled.
As the sun dipped below the horizon of the northern desert, bonfires lit up the camps of the Helian clan in the center of the oasis. The sounds of the reed pipes, songs, and laughter mingled with the aroma of roasted meat, drifting for miles.
Su Jing lay prone on the top of the sand dune, and by the light of the campfire, he could clearly see Helian Chong drinking and laughing in the tent. He was wearing a gold-trimmed Hu-style robe, with a scimitar hanging at his waist, and was embracing a beauty, talking and laughing loudly, completely unaware that the shadow of death had quietly descended upon him.
As night deepened, the singing and dancing gradually subsided, and most of the lights in the tents went out.
Su Jing waved his hand, and the already poised guards and elite cavalry pounced like arrows, silently advancing towards the oasis. Only when they approached the main camp did the Hu soldiers guarding the camp realize something was amiss. They hastily sounded the alarm, but it was too late. Su Jing's men had already broken through the camp gates, their long swords cleaving open tents, and the shouts of battle instantly shattered the silence of the northern desert.
"Enemy attack!!" Helian Chong was jolted awake by Hu Bing's roar, grabbing his scimitar and rushing out of his tent in a panic. The camp was already in chaos. Southern Soviet soldiers were like tigers descending a mountain; amidst the flashing blades, Hu Bing's screams echoed, and blood stained the oasis's yellow sand.
Holding a long sword, Su Jing locked his gaze on Helian Chong like a hawk and charged straight at him.
"Su Jing! How dare you invade alone!" Helian Chong was both shocked and furious, and brandished his sword to meet the attack.
The two weapons clashed, sparking blinding flashes. Su Jing used the force to take a half step back, then thrust his sword out again, his sword strikes fierce and each move aimed directly at vital points. This time, he did not underestimate his opponent in the slightest; every move was made with a do-or-die determination.
Helian Chong, a veteran of the battlefield, quickly regained his footing and wielded his scimitar with impenetrable speed, engaging in fierce combat with Su Jing.
The two fought their way from the front of the tent to the campfire. Amidst the flashing blades, Su Jing's arm was slashed open with a deep, bone-revealing wound, and blood instantly soaked through his sleeve. Helian Chong's shoulder was also pierced by a longsword, causing him to groan in pain.
"You and I are evenly matched!" Helian Chong grinned wildly, but a ruthless glint flashed in his eyes. He suddenly feinted an attack, thrusting his curved blade straight at Su Jing's heart. Su Jing was prepared and dodged to the side, simultaneously thrusting his longsword forward, the tip piercing Helian Chong's abdomen.
"Pfft—" Helian Chong spat out a mouthful of blood, but taking advantage of the moment when Su Jing sheathed his sword, he used his last bit of strength to stab the curved blade into Su Jing's chest.
The two fell backward at the same time, lying on the scorching yellow sand, both barely alive.
"To perish together with the Emperor of Southern Su, it's not a complete loss..." Helian Chong coughed up blood, but his face was filled with a mad smile.
“I cannot vent my anger without killing you! But remember Helian Chong, there is no worthy opponent between us, nor is there any mutual destruction—” Su Jing’s voice was weak, but it was filled with an undeniable ruthlessness. He raised his hand and pressed on the hilt of his sword, pushing the longsword in a little further. “My death today is my own choice.”
Helian Chong's laughter stopped abruptly, his head lolled to the side, and he was completely lifeless.
Su Jing's consciousness began to fade, and the excruciating pain in his chest almost suffocated him. He lay on the yellow sand, gazing at the deep night sky of the northern desert. Chu Yiran's face gradually appeared before his eyes, flashing like a revolving lantern, recalling how they grew up together, practiced swordsmanship in the Five Northern Garrisons, served as hostages in Northern Qi, received their titles in Luoyang, fought to the death in the northern desert, whispered secrets in the Qianqing Palace, and parted ways in the Golden Palace...
"Ah Ran..." he murmured, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"Your Majesty!" Huo Yan's anxious cry suddenly rang out from afar. He led a troop of cavalry at full speed, and upon seeing Su Jing lying on the ground covered in blood, his eyes instantly reddened. He stumbled over and rushed to Su Jing's side, desperately supporting his swaying body. "What kind of letter did you leave! You asked me to assist the young crown prince, are you going to find General Chu? My life was given to me by you and General Chu, how could you just leave like this..."
Su Jing's gaze shifted to Huo Yan, but it was somewhat unfocused. He struggled to raise his hand, as if trying to grasp something, his voice as soft as the wind: "I'm sorry... Huo Yan... A Ran asked me to take care of the people of this world... but I alone... can't be a good emperor... It's too tiring... My life... is really so tiring..."
"Your Majesty, please don't say that!" Huo Yan shouted behind him, his voice trembling with suppressed sobs, "Guards! Guards, come quick!"
Su Jing's gaze suddenly fixed ahead, where Chu Yiran's "soul" was kneeling before him.
Seeing Su Jing covered in blood, Chu Yiran burst into tears: "You can't die! Su Jing, how could you just die like this?!" He tried to wipe the blood from Su Jing's mouth, but could only pass through his body again and again.
In a daze, Su Jing seemed to really see him. A glimmer of light flashed in his cloudy eyes. He slowly reached out and touched Chu Yiran's "face" in mid-air. His fingertips swept across the void, yet carried a gentle touch.
"Ah Ran... I've come to find you..."
As soon as he finished speaking, Su Jing's hand slid down limply, and he fell silent.
After Su Jing ascended the throne, he set the reign title as Yanxing, which means "Yanwei Zhaolie, Xingguo Anbang". Later generations posthumously honored him as Emperor Jinglie - "Jing" to commemorate his achievements in governing the country, and "lie" to commemorate his bravery, determination and integrity, and his willingness to die for righteousness.
In the third year of Yanxing, the Imperial Preceptor Chu Yiran died; in the fourth year of Yanxing, Emperor Su Wu, Su Jing, died in the northern desert.
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