Chapter 62

Chapter 62

Fuhua Temple on the capital's outskirts.

After two days of heavy rain, the mountains and forests were veiled in mist. As a sacred Buddhist site, and with the Empress Dowager fasting and praying here, the temple was even quieter than usual.

Yet at this moment, a palace messenger dashed through the courtyards, holding a letter high and shouting, "Victory in Fangzhou! Victory in Fangzhou!"

Matron Sun knelt beside the Empress Dowager, reciting scriptures, when she faintly heard the cries of the messenger through several gates. She immediately rose from the floor.

The Empress Dowager had also heard. Dressed in plain black robes, her hair pinned up with nothing but a wooden hairpin, her face was gaunt and weary, yet her eyes suddenly lit up.

Matron Sun quickly opened the wooden door and saw a court lady at the courtyard gate receive the letter and hurry forward to present it.

She took it, her hands shaking with excitement, and passed it to the Empress Dowager.

The Empress Dowager, having knelt for too long, staggered as she stood and collapsed back onto the cushion.

"Your Majesty..."

"Read it for me, quickly," the Empress Dowager urged.

Matron Sun unfolded the letter and scanned its contents before exclaiming joyfully, "Word from Prince Huan! His Majesty has retaken Fangzhou! Our main forces have arrived and are now advancing with the Emperor straight toward Yuanzhou!"

Her eyes brimmed with tears as she looked at the Empress Dowager, who sat on the cushion, her prayer beads dangling to the ground. "Good… good."

Matron Sun said, "Your devotion has moved the gods."

The Empress Dowager resumed her proper kneeling posture and bowed before the Buddha statue. Matron Sun followed suit, bowing several times before the abbot and monks of Fuhua Temple came into view.

In Great Zhou, some devoted themselves to Buddhism while others lived worldly lives, and nobles and commoners, men and women, young and old, each held different wishes. But during these past few days, all hearts had been united—praying for the emperor and soldiers far away on the frontlines.

Now, the gods had answered their prayers—the first victory had finally come, and let the whole nation rejoice!

"Long live His Majesty! Long live our Great Zhou army!"

"What did I say? Huang Tianyi, see how mighty you are now!"

"Go back where you came from!"

"The Emperor's winning streak holds strong!"

"Who claimed Huang Tianyi was undefeated? His myth is shattered today!"

At that very moment, He Yan, his wrists clamped in irons, was being carted through the streets in a prisoner’s cage. Someone deliberately approached him to jeer, "Your emperor has fallen! Crushed by our Great Zhou emperor!"

He Yan: "…"

He couldn't believe it!

Impossible!

He had followed his emperor since the uprising, seeing firsthand his unstoppable advance in every battle. That very momentum had made Liang’s troops fearless—because they believed they were blessed by heaven, fated to win, never to fall!

Had heaven turned its back on them?!

No, impossible!

Numb, he slumped in the cage cart, watching the jubilant crowds lining the streets barely notice him, the enemy agent, as they were all caught up in revelry.

This is nothing but dumb luck!

Huang Tianyi is the chosen one by divine mandate—how can he stack up against a deranged emperor who murdered his own kin?

When Fu Huang first came to Jiantai City a few months ago, these people didn’t speak of him like this.

One battle, and they’re already worshiping him like a god?

Pride comes before a fall!

He sat in the prisoner’s cart, exhausted, thirsty, hungry, and in pain. Groggy, he lost track of time and distance, drifting in and out of consciousness, unaware of where they were going. Suddenly, the cheers around him jolted him awake.

He opened his eyes and saw that he was in some city. The whole city roared, “Long live the Emperor!” He heard through his haze someone cry, “His Majesty has won another battle—a great victory in Yuanzhou!”

In the imperial palace of Jiantai City, the golden-armored guards at the city gates were so excited upon hearing the news that they shouted, “To horse! Deliver the news at once!”

The golden-armored guard galloped past the vermilion palace walls, sunlight flashing off crimson roofs and jade-green eaves. The clatter of hooves alerted the Inner Officials and several court officials at Qingyuan Palace from afar. A throng spilled from the palace gates, watching as the messenger leaped off his horse, knelt at the entrance, and presented the latest battle report with both hands: “Great victory in Yuanzhou!”

“Splendid!” the crowd erupted. An Inner Official immediately took the report and ran inside amid the jubilation. The news spread in waves, reaching the Spring Court Hall early. Fu Ye burst outside barefoot, roses blooming in full splendor overhead, petals strewn like a rug under the arched gate. He stepped on them barefoot, snatched the report, glanced at it, and turned to say, “Chancellor Xie, victory!”

Chancellor Xie was also elated, bowing deeply. “Congratulations, Your Highness! Congratulations to His Majesty!”

Fu Ye, overwhelmed with excitement, returned to the hall and sat cross-legged. Eunuch Qin beamed, towel in hand, scrubbing his feet, leaning in to say, “Your Highness, don’t keep it to yourself—read it aloud for us.”

So Fu Ye read it out loud to them.

Zhang Gui’s handwritten report was exhaustive, its language fiery and vivid. Yuanzhou had been occupied by Liang for many days and was not easily retaken. It was a brutal, grinding fight—the battle lasted two days, and Fu Huang even took an arrow to the body.

At this point, Fu Ye paused, his smile wet with tears, before continuing to read. Eunuch Qin clutched the towel tightly, listening in stunned silence.

Fu Huang, wounded, broke the arrow shaft himself, hastily bandaged the injury, and led the charge anew. His soldiers, deeply inspired, threw themselves into the fray without hesitation or fear.

This was a battle forged in blood and guts. The people of Fangzhou tore down their homes to support the Great Zhou army, even jumping into the river to raise floating bridges. In Yuanzhou, several brave civilians worked with the troops inside and outside the city to secure the siege. His Majesty, valiant despite his injury, shot down two enemy generals in succession! In the end, Huang Tianyi was forced to abandon the city and flee.

If the battle of Fangzhou steadied morale and gave the troops confidence, the victory in Yuanzhou ignited their fighting spirit!

War is like this—morale is everything. When two armies clash, their spirits wax and wane. Once the invincible myth of Liang’s army was shattered, the same soaring morale they once boasted now plummeted just as sharply. Their divine legend had been broken.

If the first battle was the one Fu Huang absolutely had to win, bearing the greatest pressure, now that pressure had shifted entirely to Huang Tianyi.

Liang’s forces retreated to Zouzhou. Another loss, and they would truly have no choice but to crawl back to their homeland.

This great victory made the capital even livelier than before, with celebrations from the imperial clan down to the common peddlers and laborers. The streets pulsed with lion dancers and dragon parades. Fu Ye kicked off the donations, emptying his coffers, sparking a flood of contributions from all corners of the city.

Wei Simo stood in the crowd, watching Fu Ye from afar as he was surrounded by admirers. He’d trimmed down, his bearing now razor-straight. Though still slender, the frailness of their first meeting was nearly gone.

He thought that by next spring’s hunt, His Highness might well ride alongside His Majesty.

Wriggling through the press of bodies, he tossed his entire money pouch into the bamboo basket, then unfastened his jade pendant and, finally, even his belt, throwing it in as well. The crowd howled with laughter. Flushing scarlet, he squirmed free, only to hear a familiar voice call, “Wei Simo, even your belt?”

Delighted, he turned to see Prince Huan standing on the platform, smiling down at him.

Glorious, blinding—it stole his breath.

Tongue-tied and giddy, he managed only a strangled “Uh—”, blushing furiously. The fact that His Highness remembered his name filled him with exhilaration.

In the distance, a stately procession rolled into view. Following Prince Huan’s gaze, he saw the Empress Dowager’s phoenix carriage arriving slowly, escorted by dozens of golden-armored guards, followed by court ladies gliding in perfect formation. The Empress Dowager, phoenix pins glinting, sat enthroned in robes of state.

Fu Ye hurried down from the platform to kneel in greeting before the Empress Dowager.

Upon seeing the Empress Dowager arrive, the crowd immediately dropped to their knees in prostration.

Stepping down from her phoenix carriage, the Empress Dowager said, "I heard that Prince Huan is leading charitable donations in the capital. As matriarch of the imperial household, I should also do my part."

With that, she took off every last hairpin and bracelet. Behind her, Palace Matron Sun and the other ladies-in-waiting immediately did the same.

These refined palace women, known for their dignified grace, were now collectively removing their adornments for the soldiers at the front. To the common people witnessing this scene, it was a sight to stir the soul. This act of charity would spread even further than "the prince's fundraising in the capital," bringing great benefit to both nation and self.

Fu Ye was deeply moved and filled with gratitude.

As expected, soon after, every province across Great Zhou began mobilizing supplies and funds for the front lines. With such unity of purpose, Fu Ye found himself moved to tears reading the reports from each state, certain now that victory would be theirs.

Two days later, Fu Ye received a long-missed handwritten letter from Fu Huang.

His hands trembled as he held it. He dismissed everyone before opening it alone. The moment he saw the words "My beloved wife" at the beginning, tears flooded his cheeks.

"My beloved wife,

This campaign goes well—I have already recaptured Fang and Yuan provinces. I was struck by an arrow in the left shoulder, but thankfully it missed bone and tendon. Please don't worry. I'll be home soon, and I miss you dearly. The lotus blossoms in Yuan stretch for miles—so breathtaking I'm sending you one. I've also heard the jade hairpins from Zou are exquisite; after our next victory, I will surely get one for you.

State affairs are complex and countless matters demand attention. I know you think of me day and night—please, take care of yourself for me. Once peace returns, I will ride swiftly to reunite with you.

Written by your husband, Huang."

Wiping away his tears, he immediately called for Shuang Fu to prepare ink and brush. Picking up the brush, he wrote:

"My beloved husband,

The news of your victory has reached us, and the whole city rings with praise. Even within the palace walls, I swell with pride at your deeds. All is well here, though I worry endlessly about your health—don't you dare be reckless. I long for our reunion. Now that the entire nation stands united, we shall triumph over all enemies. I await your triumphant return in the capital.

My love, I kiss you a thousand, a million times."

As he wrote those words, hunger surged through him. He lifted the gilded paper and kissed it, as if kissing Fu Huang himself.

These past days had been filled with anxiety, consumed by state affairs, or elated by the news of victory. Now, at last, his restraint finally shattered. He missed Fu Huang terribly—his fingers, his lips, even that medicinal tang that always clung to his skin. Having suppressed desire for so long, his emotions now overflowed uncontrollably.

The tension that had gripped him for weeks finally began to ease.

That night, he tossed restlessly through the night. He wished he could be like the protagonists in stories—throwing caution aside and rushing straight to the military camp.

But he knew he couldn’t. He still had a role to play in the capital, and going to the army would only cause chaos.

He drifted in and out of thought until finally wrapping himself in Fu Huang’s robe and lying on the couch. In the silence of the night, he inhaled the robe's faint scent—what little remained—he imagined it rich with Fu Huang’s presence: the scent of his body mingled with bitter medicine.

His hand slipped inside the robe—he wore nothing beneath it.

His fingers glided over skin like polished jade. He thought of Fu Huang’s hands—hands that could wield the imperial brush to draft decrees of war, or draw a bowstring taut, hitting bullseye after bullseye.

He remembered the calluses on Fu Huang’s fingertips, how they would deliberately tease the softest parts of him—his lips, his...

In shameless abandon, wrapped in Fu Huang’s robe, his black hair spilling like ink across the couch, the dark dragon robe accentuating his pale, delicate frame. Embroidered dragons snarled on the fabric as if ready to devour him. His fair fingers teased out wet sounds, and soon he collapsed onto the couch, his white body writhing against the black robe like warm, fragrant jade. His hair fanned out like drifting seaweed in water, and he resembled a bewitching water spirit rising from the river of love, calling his beloved’s name with radiant beauty.

He missed him so much that even in dreams, he was by his side.

Early the next morning, he summoned Chancellor Xie to the palace.

Now that morale had been roused, there was no reason not to make use of it.

Since Huang Tianyi and his ilk had once built their golden reputation upon the myth of invincibility, now he would strip them of that gilded legend.

Invading Liang militarily might be difficult, but spreading rumors there should not be a hard task.

Give them a taste of their own medicine. Liang’s own backyard should burn as well.

Just as the entire Great Zhou was immersed in the joy of reclaiming their homeland, an atrocity occurred in Zouzhou.

Liang’s retreating troops were panic-stricken. Huang Tianyi had risen to fame through his myth of invincibility, with the Red Lotus Holy Master proclaiming him the Chosen One. They had followed him in conquering Great Zhou, achieving victory after victory. Yet who could have expected that the moment the emperor of Great Zhou arrived, they suffered consecutive defeats, and even their once-heroic emperor now appeared reduced to a ragged state.

His aura of a mighty ruler had vanished!

Fear festered among the troops, and rumors ran rampant—Fu Huang was said to be a devil.

They whispered that he had killed his own father and brothers, a man of unparalleled cruelty.

They claimed he drank human blood, more monster than man.

None of these words were kind, but they were terrifying enough—how could men fight against a demon?

Huang Tianyi beheaded several men before finally suppressing the rumors.

Once, to justify their invasion, they had smeared Fu Huang as a demonic wretch. Now, these fabricated rumors had become weapons in Fu Huang’s hands!

Zouzhou must be held at all costs.

The incident of Yuanzhou’s people collaborating with Great Zhou’s army must never happen again.

Under immense pressure, Huang Tianyi resorted to ruthless measures, dragooning every able-bodied man in the city to the front lines. As Great Zhou’s army approached the city walls, countless patriots of Zouzhou were slaughtered.

This act shocked the entire Great Zhou.

When Fu Ye read the report in the capital, he seethed with grief and rage, his hands and feet turning cold.

The battle for Zouzhou was exceptionally brutal. After the fighting, hardly a male over ten survived. A great fire had consumed half the city, and the land echoed with mourners’ wails.

Once the battle ended, Fu Huang rode through the ruins on horseback.

Zhang Gui and others followed, their bodies still stained with fresh blood.

The army rested in Zouzhou for three days, the city still smoldering with lingering smoke.

The entire Great Zhou seethed with collective grief and outrage. In just a few years, Zouzhou had suffered repeated devastation—its horrors beyond description.

The ruler of Lang, clad in penitent’s plain robes and bareheaded, led his ministers to Zouzhou, kneeling in apology.

Fu Huang struck him down then and there.

Offering the enemy general’s head to the dead of Zouzhou, Fu Huang stood amidst the lingering smoke when a letter from Fu Ye arrived.

*"Heaven demands their execution."*

Fu Huang clenched the letter in his hand.

Zhang Gui spoke: *"Huang Tianyi is a wolf-hearted schemer, the first to invade our Great Zhou. Now, with Liang’s morale shattered and his reign barely months old, the people of Liang do not even recognize him as their ruler. Yet he doubles down on his butchery, committing such atrocities—Heaven itself will destroy him. This is the perfect moment to strike. Your Majesty, with your brilliance and vision, if you seize this chance to unify the realm, your legacy will endure for generations! At the very least, it will spare the world decades of war!"*

Xu Zongyuan and others added: *"Rather than wait for him to recover and strike again, we must press our advantage. We are willing to lead the vanguard and run these butchers to ground!"*

All eyes turned to Fu Huang. Shirtless, bandages crisscrossing his torso, a raw scar slashing his face—he no longer carried the ferocity of the siege. Instead, he held a letter in silence for a long while before finally rising to his feet.

At this moment, everyone felt a surge of strength amidst their grief and indignation, anticipating a once-in-a-century spectacle.

From then on, the border defense battle in the summer of the sixth year of Changxing officially transformed into a grand campaign to unite the empire.

That summer felt exceptionally long due to the war. As autumn arrived and the weather cooled, frequent victories reported from the capital kept morale soaring.

Liang quickly collapsed, aided by the rumors Fu Ye had earlier spread within its borders. Fu Huang’s victories and the rumors reinforced each other—the more he won, the more the rumors spread. Huang Tianyi completely lost his godlike status, while Fu Ye seized the opportunity to build the same legend for Fu Huang.

While others might praise a "chosen one," he praised his husband—naturally with even greater fervor, for his husband was truly invincible, getting stronger with every fight.

Before the Great Zhou army even arrived, Liang had already torn itself apart from within. Some seized the chaos to rebel, while the Chen royal family of Dayong declared themselves rulers. Amidst the clashes of multiple factions, the ascendant Liang came crashing down at an astonishing speed.

Fu Huang’s army had become an unstoppable juggernaut. As the war progressed, winning became effortless. Many cities surrendered without a fight.

His legend peaked in Jiantai City.

In the century since Great Zhou’s founding, Emperor Mingzong was the most revered by its people, yet he only conquered up to half the realm west of Helian Mountain.

Even the Empress Dowager remarked to Palace Matron Sun, "The Emperor is about to achieve a legendary achievement."

Against the backdrop of unifying the empire, Fu Huang’s past infamy became insignificant.

One could barely imagine the grand spectacle that would greet Fu Huang upon his triumphant return to Jiantai City. Just the thought of it made her wish to offer prayers to their ancestors.

Xiao Ai: "Your man is making history."

Fu Ye: "Aaaahhh!"

Xiao Ai: "A true war god. Even the chosen one was defeated."

Fu Ye: "Aaaahhh!"

At first, he had been a nervous wreck.

But realizing the situation had reached such a point, he knew that even without his support, Fu Huang would likely be propelled forward anyway.

Later, as victory reports arrived one after another, each battle easier than the last, with barely any losses or big battles, his constant worry and anticipation gradually transformed into excitement and adoration.

My God—just the thought of "unifying the empire" made him tremble.

He had scored an emperor for a husband—how lucky was that?

And now, a legendary conqueror no less!

He couldn’t fathom how future historians of Great Zhou would describe Fu Huang.

To have been part of history in the making—perhaps even earning a line or two in the annals—was beyond his wildest dreams.

He could hardly wait for the day Fu Huang returned in triumph.

After such upheaval and such a long separation, he felt as though his entire being was on fire for Fu Huang.