Chapter 189: Rebellion

Chapter 189: Rebellion

"In the twelfth year of Beishu, Regent Prince Helang raised his army in rebellion.

The world knew that the Northern Emperor was weak and inept, born with a frail constitution, his power long usurped. Regent Prince Helang commanded the nation's troops, overseeing all major affairs, an emperor in all but name on the imperial court.

For such a man to rebel would take no effort at all.

I never thought he could endure for so many years...

On the day of the coup, it was mid-winter, snow swirling in the air. Helang led his personal guards from Zhaowu Gate to Shengkang Hall, spilling little blood, for none dared or wished to stand in his way.

I emerged from the dark underground palace beside the side hall, sitting on the ground with a bronze beast brazier before me for warmth. No one had replenished the charcoal, and the embers inside were slowly dying, offering no warmth.

I closed my eyes, awaiting death, my heart strangely calm. The sounds of battle and slaughter were close at hand, as if by my ear, yet even as the fire in front of me dimmed and died, I still did not hear the jubilant cries of a new emperor ascending the throne.

The hall doors creaked open suddenly, a biting wind sweeping through, instantly filling the room with snow. I lifted my gaze to see Emperor Zhao Kang staggering in, his crown askew, his robes disheveled, his handsome face streaked with blood.

We looked at each other, silent for a moment.

If there was a third person present, they would have noticed how identical we looked.

The Zhao imperial lineage was thin. The previous emperor only had the precious heir Zhao Kang in his twilight years, but alas, he was sickly, the imperial doctors predicting he would not live past thirty. At the time, the Wei and Helang families controlled the court, with signs of division, while the imperial princes watched hungrily, waiting for the emperor's demise to replace the dynasty.

Under the guise of seeking a doctor, the previous emperor searched the land for someone who bore a resemblance to Zhao Kang. In the end, he found me, still a child, in a small town in Ruzhou. He ordered his soldiers to massacre the entire town, ensuring no one else would recognize me, then secretly brought me into the palace as Zhao Kang's double.

One thousand three hundred sixty-two lives were lost because of my face.

When Zhao Kang was unwell, I attended court in his stead;

When Zhao Kang neglected his studies, I reviewed the memorials for him;

When Zhao Kang was assassinated, I took the blow.

I was the emperor, yet not the emperor.

We shared the same face, yet I hated him to the bone, wanting nothing more than to topple the Zhao dynasty.

Helang liked me, I knew that. But bound by the Helang ancestors' will, he swore never to commit treason, so despite holding great power, he hesitated to rebel. Moreover, he believed the current emperor was me, so he was even less inclined to start a revolt.

Since love could not make Helang rebel, could hate?

Over the years, I deliberately weakened Helang's allies, forced him to relinquish military power, encouraged Zhao Kang to expand his harem, and slowly cut into Helang's heart like a dull blade... piece by piece, coupled with Zhao Kang's growing incompetence, I finally pushed this man to rebel.

But why was Zhao Kang still alive?

Shouldn't he have been killed by Helang's sword on the dragon throne?

"Why aren't you dead?" I asked softly.

Zhao Kang, having narrowly escaped death, was still in shock when he heard my heretical words. He glared at me, his gaze cold: "Dead? How can I die? I am the Son of Heaven! It is Helang, that traitor, who should die!"

He laughed maniacally, gripping my shoulders tightly: "He raised his sword against the palace, several times lifting his blade but not striking me. I took advantage of his distraction and stabbed him in the chest. Blood gushed out!"

Zhao Kang spoke with a look of terror, as if reliving the gruesome scene. I thought to myself that Helang was a master of martial arts, even with his battle scars, he should have had the strength to retaliate after being stabbed. I continued to ask softly:

"And then, didn't he kill you?"

Zhao Kang paused for a moment, as if not understanding why Helang would say those words: "No, he said... he said I wasn't worthy to die with him, and ordered his soldiers not to kill me, then he fell down..."

His last words were nearly drowned out by the wind.

I could almost imagine Helang, covered in blood, collapsing heavily to the ground.

Zhao Kang ignored my silence, panicked: "You're usually the smartest. Quickly tell me what to do now? Even if Helang is dead, he has a younger brother. The Zhao dynasty cannot fall in my hands..."

Before he finished speaking, a chill struck his chest. My hidden longsword pierced his heart, blood spurting out, hot and scalding on my face.

Zhao Kang stumbled back, looking at me in disbelief, squeezing out a sentence between clenched teeth: "How dare you..."

Yes, how could I dare?

After years of plotting, eliminating the Zhao clan, and forcing Helang to rebel, was there anything I wouldn't dare?

Or did Zhao Kang think that by planting a poison in me, if he, the mother poison, died, my offspring poison would also die, so he never imagined I would harm him?

But I no longer wanted to live.

I ignored Zhao Kang's fallen body, staggering out of the hall, vomiting blood, snow falling over me.

Helang, it was I who wronged you...

In the sixth year of Beishu, during the depths of winter, Xiling launched a large-scale invasion of the border. Duke Weihan of the State led his troops to meet the enemy, but supplies were delayed, causing tens of thousands of soldiers to perish outside Guiyan Pass, their bones buried under the snow.

A messenger arrived urgently, reporting that Duke Weihan of the State had fallen in battle, his eldest son Weixuan taking his place as commander, fighting bravely but succumbing to his injuries; his second son Weihong, tasked with escorting supplies, disappeared in a snowstorm; his third son Weitan, leading a breakout, was hit by a poisoned arrow, his life hanging by a thread.

The Wei family, full of loyal martyrs, had lost their direct line. Lady Helang, ignoring the imperial decree, left the capital to mourn her husband and young son, now holding their memorial tablets, dressed in mourning clothes, leading thousands of Fuyuan troops blocking the palace gates.

"Your Majesty, this Lady Helang is audacious, daring to block the palace gates with her troops, claiming her husband and beloved son were harmed by traitorous ministers, questioning why the supplies did not arrive. White banners fill the main street, paper money and joss paper scattered everywhere, clearly planning a rebellion! You should quickly dispatch troops to suppress them and charge them with treason!"

Separated by a dense curtain of jade beads, Prince Jingyang Zhao Qin stood below, indignant. As the current emperor's uncle, his status was extraordinary, and everyone gave him due respect. With such an accusation, Lady Helang would surely face serious charges.

Emperor Zhao Kang sat behind the curtain, coughing in anger. He covered his lips with a white handkerchief, a tearing sound coming from his lungs: "Rascals! Simply rascals, are they all going to rebel!"

Prince Jingyang stepped forward, fanning the flames: "Your Majesty, since ancient times, generals remained in their camps, there was never a rule about personally engaging in combat. Duke Weihan and his eldest son rashly met the enemy, resulting in their deaths on the battlefield. Clearly, they brought this upon themselves, deserving punishment for ineffective command!"

He spoke fervently, not noticing the emperor's eunuch, Wumei, walking out from behind the dragon throne, placing a sheet of paper lightly on the table. On it was a line of sharp handwriting, piercing through the paper:

Why did the supplies not arrive?

Zhao Kang saw the handwriting on the paper, caught his breath, and then asked in a deep voice, "Uncle Wang, I ordered you to escort the army's provisions. You said they were delivered long ago, so why did Wei Han send several memorials claiming there was no food in the army, and that the soldiers could only eat snow and fruit to survive?!"

Jingyang Wang's eyes flickered as he stammered, "I... I don't know about this, Your Majesty. The provisions were handed over long ago, and the vouchers bear the seal of the commander-in-chief. If you don't believe me, you can check them yourself."

As the two of them conversed, a eunuch suddenly rushed in, knelt down in panic, and reported, "Your Majesty, it's terrible! The Duchess of Zhen Guo has arrived at the palace gates with a coffin. Thousands of Fuyuan troops are shouting in support, their voices shaking the heavens. The city guards dare not stop her. Please give your orders!"

Zhao Kang was already furious, and hearing this made his anger boil over even more. "A bunch of useless fools!"

He was a puppet emperor, having failed to reclaim military power when he ascended the throne. What use were the imperial guards within the palace walls? Now, with Lady Huo leading troops against the palace gates, he didn't have anyone to rely on.

"Bang—!"

Zhao Kang slammed the table hard and shouted hoarsely,

"Hurry and summon Regent Prince Huo Lang to bring troops for my protection!"

Zhao Kang hurriedly added, "That's right, that's right. Lady Huo is the regent prince's aunt. He's the most suitable one to persuade her!"

Outside, heavy snow was falling. The emperor issued twelve urgent edicts late into the night, ordering eunuchs to deliver them, but each one was stopped outside the regent prince's residence:

"It's late and cold. His Highness has already retired for the night. Please return, Your Excellency."

Huo Lang was the only non-royal prince in Beishu, sharing military power with the Wei family. No one dared to oppose him, even when he openly defied the emperor's orders. The emperor couldn't punish him; instead, he had to coax and plead with him. However, the messenger never even stepped foot inside the regent prince's mansion, being turned away with the same excuse: illness, unable to rise from bed.

"Huo Lang, his heart is truly vile!"

Zhao Kang spat out a mouthful of blood in rage, finally collapsing from exhaustion. Wumei secretly summoned a trusted physician to examine him while he quickly walked into the rear hall, bowing before the man sitting in the study and saying,

"His Majesty has fainted. This night is truly fraught with events. Please take charge of the situation."

Behind a sandalwood carved table sat a man dressed in light-colored robes, his demeanor cool and composed, his bearing noble and dignified. Holding a lake pen, he wrote steadily on xuan paper. His face was identical to Zhao Kang's, except he lacked the sickly pallor and possessed an aura of refined nobility. Hearing this, he lowered his gaze and spoke,

"I see."

Lu Yan put down his pen. On the paper was a poem:

Not a king, nor a prince,

The child laughs at Beishu's emperor.

Today, the world is divided three ways,

Neither Li nor Wang reigns.

A small boat with its sails furled,

Birds hide as snow falls on the mountains.

Under the emperor's seat, many officials bow,

But how many truly serve the throne?

Lu Yan blew on the ink to dry it, then casually tossed the xuan paper, landing it precisely in front of Wumei. He glanced at the old eunuch before him, his smile enigmatic, reminiscent of moonlight—gentle and bright yet icy: "Have you heard this poem?"

Wumei's cloudy eyes moved. "It's just a folk ditty, not to be taken seriously."

The current emperor was a puppet, which was bad enough, but he was also mediocre, prone to listening to the whispers of corrupt ministers. Even children in the streets laughed at him, knowing that the world was no longer ruled by the Zhao family.

A small boat with its sails furled referred to the character "Wei".

Birds hide as snow falls on the mountains referred to the character "Huo".

How many of the officials kneeling before the dragon throne truly submitted to Zhao Kang?

"Yes, it's not to be taken seriously..."

Lu Yan chuckled softly. He tilted his head towards the frosty snow outside. The night was cold and silent. He asked softly, "Is Lady Wei still outside the palace gates?"

Wumei nodded. "Regent Prince Huo Lang claimed illness and refused to accept the imperial decree. The commander of the city patrol troops, a protégé of Huo Lang, also dodged responsibility. Now, no one dares to stop her. The Duchess of Zhen Guo mourns the loss of her husband and son. This matter won't be easily resolved."

"Beishu is merely experiencing light snow, yet it's already bone-chillingly cold. I've heard that the Guanyan Pass is covered in snow year-round, much colder than here. Tens of thousands of soldiers suffer without provisions, dying outside the pass, forcing Wei Han to personally lead troops into battle, dying on the battlefield. By all rights, an explanation should be given."

Lu Yan stood up and walked to the brazier, warming his hands by the fire. The orange flames cast a warm glow on his slender fingertips. He gazed at the charcoal fire, muttering to himself, "It's really cold. His leg ailment must be acting up again."

Before Wumei could ponder the meaning of these words, Lu Yan said, "Regent Prince Huo Lang has served the country well. With the bitter cold, have the imperial physicians prepare a bowl of soup medicine to dispel wind and dampness for me to send to him. Tell him to take good care of his health and not let me worry."

Wumei: "But what about the Duchess of Zhen Guo?"

Lu Yan replied indifferently, "Go and do it."

"Yes."

Wumei had no choice but to obey and leave. Not long after he departed, Lu Yan stopped warming himself by the fire. He surveyed the luxurious yet empty hall around him, feeling as if he had forgotten something. His heartbeat quickened, leaving him with an inexplicable sense of confusion.

"Lu Yan, this is the last checkpoint."

"You must survive."

"I can't continue supervising you due to rule violations. Once you pass this checkpoint, I will return all your memories to you."

"Survive..."

This voice appeared out of nowhere, as if coming from a distant place. Hearing it, Lu Yan felt his heart race and his breathing quicken uncontrollably. He collapsed onto a chair, frowning and clutching his chest, asking quietly into the air, "Who are you?"

"..."

No one answered him. The voice vanished, leaving the hall silent except for the sound of the candle wick popping.

Lu Yan closed his eyes and regulated his breathing, wondering if he had experienced a hallucination. Zhao Kang was a foolish ruler, and countless people wanted him dead. As his double, Lu Yan had faced numerous assassination attempts. But since his previous life ended tragically, why repeat the same mistakes in this life.

In this lifetime, he would definitely live on well, repaying the debt he owed to Huo Lang. A voice in the cosmos was telling Lu Yan that he owed this man a great deal...

Outside the Regent's Palace, a carriage slowly stopped at the gate. An eunuch stepped out, and upon seeing him, the guards assumed it was another imperial decree from the palace and coldly said, "The Regent is unwell. He may not be able to receive the decree."

The eunuch had a kind face and didn't get angry at their words. Instead, he showed them the food box in his hand. "I'm not here to deliver a decree but to bring medicine. His Majesty heard that the Regent has been bedridden and guessed that his old knee injury might have flared up due to the cold weather. He specially ordered the imperial physician to prepare a bowl of soup to dispel wind and dampness. Please let the Regent take good care of himself and don't worry His Majesty."

Hearing this, the guard hesitated for a moment before taking the food box inside to report. He didn't dare enter the house but knelt below the steps, repeating the old eunuch's words through the door.

The courtyard was filled with green bamboo, now covered in snow, a blanket of frosty white. The guard waited for a while without hearing any response and assumed that Huo Lang wasn't accepting it. He shifted his knees, preparing to take the food box back outside when suddenly, a deep, hoarse voice sounded from within:

"Come in."

This small courtyard wasn't a residence but a study used for meetings. The guard pushed the door open and was met with the smell of medicine, which, combined with the warm charcoal fire, made his head feel heavy.

On the bed inside the study lay a man. Despite the dragon-shaped stove burning and the presence of a charcoal brazier, he still seemed cold, draped in a white fox fur coat over his shoulders and covered with an expensive Arctic fox blanket below. Because it was late at night, his long hair was loose, black strands falling over his shoulders. The warm yellow candlelight did nothing to soften his pale, sickly complexion; instead, it only highlighted the ferocity hidden in his narrow eyes.

Regent Huo Lang.

A being above ten thousand others in the entire Northern Shu, even the emperor bowed before him.

Two strategists sat by the tea table, the candles burned halfway down, indicating they had been discussing matters for half the night.

The guard placed the food box on the table and respectfully reported, "Your Highness, this is the soup medicine bestowed by His Majesty. The eunuch who delivered it said that because of the freezing weather, His Majesty guessed you might have suffered a recurrence of your old leg ailment. This medicine is perfect for dispelling wind and dampness. May you take good care of yourself and not let him worry."

Hearing this, Huo Lang closed his eyes, his expression indifferent, and didn't respond. His left hand, with its distinct joints, lightly tapped on the blanket. His face was obscured in shadow, and after a while, he asked, "Nothing else?"

The guard replied, "No."

Huo Lang then asked, "Has the Marchioness of Zhen Guo not left yet?"

The guard said, "She remains at the palace gates, deadlocked."

Huo Lang: "Leave. This Prince knows."

The door opened and closed again. One of the strategists gently stroked his beard, puzzled. "How did the emperor know about Your Highness's leg ailment? Could there be a spy planted in the mansion?"

Hearing this, Huo Lang slowly opened his eyes. He had fought in wars since his youth, never suffering defeat. His gaze was as sharp as a blade and more piercing than a needle. He gave a cold laugh. "The emperor doesn't have such capability."

His voice suddenly turned gloomy:

"It was merely that this Prince offended the previous emperor in the past. On a bitterly cold winter night, I was kneeling in punishment on the Nine Dragon Steps, and he happened to see me and pleaded for mercy on my behalf. Since then, I've had this leg ailment."

The other strategist remained silent. Having served Huo Lang the longest, he naturally understood his character. He couldn't help but secretly sigh inwardly: Despite the Regent's gritted teeth, this bowl of neither too light nor too heavy soup medicine was probably more effective than those twelve life-threatening imperial decrees. There was no way he could leave tonight.