Eastern Han Dynasty, not the Three Kingdoms

Chapter 1291 Auspicious Omens Appear, Emperor Behaves Inappropriately

Yuan Shang's righteous and stern refusal, when heard by the old foxes Xu You and Feng Ji, was interpreted as a tacit hint. They exchanged a glance, their eyes revealing knowing smiles; their young master was going to "follow the will of Heaven and the people," and they needed to make this performance even more convincing.

On the fifteenth of the eleventh lunar month, a north wind whipped up snowflakes, lashing against the walls of Ye City. Outside the city, on the Zhang River, several fishermen were breaking the ice to catch fish when one of their nets pulled out a large, half-frozen fish. As they gutted it, the knife clattered against something hard; upon pulling it out, they found a palm-sized peach wood plaque with the six characters "Yuan's Son Rule the World" written in cinnabar on it. The news spread like wildfire, reaching every corner of Ye City within half a day. In teahouses and taverns, the people whispered amongst themselves, their eyes filled with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

Five days later, a commotion arose again at the deep pool north of Ye City. A woodcutter said that he saw a giant beast emerge from the pool at midnight, with deer antlers and a horse's body, covered in scales—the legendary water unicorn. When the news reached the Prince's residence, Yuan Shang was wearing a fox fur coat and reading military books. Upon hearing this, he only glanced at it indifferently and said, "Absurd and nonsensical." But turning to his wife and children, he said, "Since it is an auspicious omen, it is good to offer a sacrifice and fulfill the wishes of the people."

When the group arrived at the pool, the bank was already crowded with people who had rushed there after hearing the news. Upon seeing Yuan Shang in person, they all knelt down and kowtowed, shouting "Long live the Emperor!" Yuan Shang, holding his young son's hand, bowed deeply to the pool. His reflection was on the water, and a faint smile played on his lips.

On the twenty-fifth day of the eleventh month, an urgent report from the State of Zhongshan arrived in Ye City. As the snow fell heavily, over a hundred people witnessed a colorful phoenix soaring into the sky from the clouds, its wings shimmering with iridescent light. It circled three times before flying southeast. "The phoenix appears in the wild, a king is about to rise!" The civil and military officials of Ji Province could no longer contain themselves. A dense crowd surged into the Prince of Jin's residence, kneeling in the courtyard to request Yuan Shang to ascend the throne as emperor.

The mansion gate creaked open, and Yuan Shang, dressed only in a plain undergarment, his hair disheveled, his face contorted with anger at being disturbed, stood on the stone steps, gazing at the dense crowd below. Suddenly, he shouted, "Are you trying to place my Yuan family in a position of disloyalty and filial impiety!"

“When my father was alive, he always taught me to be loyal to the emperor and love my country. My Yuan family has held high office for four generations and has been favored by the Han Dynasty for a hundred years. How could we do such a treasonous thing?” His voice suddenly rose, causing the icicles on the eaves to fall in a flurry. “Anyone who dares to mention this matter again will be punished for treason! All of you, get out of here!”

The courtiers were taken aback by his shout, but none of them actually stood up. Xu You secretly glanced up and saw that although Yuan Shang was angry, there was a hint of unease hidden in the fine lines at the corners of his eyes. Although his inner garment was plain, a jade belt was tied around his waist, which was now gleaming warmly in the candlelight as he moved.

This "rebuke" was more like a carefully orchestrated play. Snow fell on everyone's shoulders, but no one brushed it away. They just knelt quietly, waiting for the crown prince who had "rebuked the ministers" to one day comply with "the will of Heaven and the hearts of the people."

On New Year's Eve, the snow in Ye City finally stopped, and the setting sun shone through the clouds, gilding the corner towers of the city walls with a pale gold. Prince Ji, Yuan Shang, dressed in a black court robe, first went to the Hebei Sili office to bid farewell to the old year. Wen Chou, Yan Liang, Zhang He, and Gao Lan, who were already in full armor with their swords at their sides, their steeds emitting white breath, greeted him with a chorus of "Wishing Prince Ji a prosperous New Year!" Yuan Shang nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping over the swords at the waists of the four generals, the red silk tassels fluttering in the cold wind.

Upon returning to the residence, Xu You, Feng Ji, and Wang Yun were already waiting in the main hall. Not long after Prince Ji took his seat, he ordered a brocade box to be brought in. When it was opened, its dazzling brilliance was almost blinding—a court necklace strung with pearls, a belt hook carved from mutton-fat jade, and a seal blank crafted from pure gold—all rare treasures. "You've all worked hard; this is but a small token of our respect," he said calmly, though a smile lingered in his eyes. The three hurriedly knelt to express their gratitude, their hands trembling slightly as they held the brocade box. Xu You exclaimed repeatedly, "We will serve Prince Ji with our lives, even unto death!" His excitement was like that of a fighting dog on steroids.

The following day was New Year's Day, and firecrackers echoed throughout Ye City from dawn until daybreak. Emperor Liu Xie, dressed in his dragon robe, ascended the throne amidst a throng of officials. Sandalwood incense burned in the censers below the steps, its smoke rising straight up only to scatter upon touching the beams. Prince Ji entered the hall to the sound of bells, his black python robe sweeping across the gold-brick floor with a soft, rustling sound. He entered the hall with his sword and shoes, and upon reaching the foot of the steps, he merely bowed slightly to Liu Xie on the dragon throne, without even a hint of prostration.

Liu Xie was already filled with trepidation, and upon seeing this, he was so shocked that he stood up abruptly, stumbled, and fell straight down on the steps in front of the dragon throne. The jade beads on his crown clattered together, and two of them shattered on the ground.

"Insolence!" Feng Ji suddenly shouted, stepping out of the ranks and pointing at Liu Xie angrily, "Disrespectful before the Emperor's palace, lacking even basic manners, how can you be a ruler?"

Liu Xie lay on the ground, his limbs weak and unable to move. He could only turn to look at Wang Yun, his eyes filled with pleading. But Wang Yun remained silent, his eyes lowered. Xu You, standing to the side, slowly said, "Your Majesty has reigned for many years, yet the feudal lords have carved up the land, the country is in chaos, and the people are displaced. You have truly lost your virtue. The Prince of Ji has worked tirelessly for the people of Hebei, and Your Majesty should reflect on your actions."

"Shut up!" The Prince of Ji turned around abruptly, his face filled with anger. "This is outrageous! Your Majesty is the Son of Heaven after all. How can you speak so recklessly?" He dismissed Xu You and Feng Ji, then turned to the assembled officials and said, "Today is New Year's Day. Let's cancel the court ceremony." With that, he flicked his sleeves and left, the hem of his python robe brushing against the broken jade on the steps, making a grating sound.

The civil and military officials in the hall exchanged glances, then turned around in unison and followed the Prince of Ji out of the hall. The sound of footsteps grew from dense to sparse, until only Liu Xie remained, slumped beside the dragon throne, sobbing. The sandalwood incense in the censer was still burning, the smoke now scattered more erratically, much like his anxious heart. The hall was eerily empty, the dragon throne icy cold. He suddenly realized that he was no longer the master of this land, that even this brief moment of court congratulations was nothing more than a play performed for the world, and that he was merely a dispensable prop.

The firecrackers outside the hall were still going off, and amidst the crackling sounds, no one heard the suppressed sobs of the young man on the dragon throne.

Dusk, like a cloth soaked in ink, gradually enveloped Ye City. The music and revelry from the Prince of Ji's residence drifted through the high walls, creating a stark contrast with the deathly silence of the imperial palace. As the courtiers escorted Yuan Shang into the residence, none of them glanced back at the empty hall; the emperor on the dragon throne had long since become an insignificant shadow.

At the banquet, amidst the clinking of cups, Xu You, holding a wine cup, recited a toast, every word echoing the phrase "destined by Heaven." Gao Lan slapped the table and laughed heartily, declaring that he would volunteer to march south in the spring to pacify the Central Plains for the King of Ji. Xu You, emboldened by the wine, spoke of how the people of Zhongshan were grateful for the King of Ji's kindness, even children reciting the nursery rhyme "The Yuan Clan's Prosperity." Yuan Shang sat upright in the main seat, listening to these words, his fingertips lightly tracing the rim of his wine cup, his eyes brimming with an unyielding smile. Only when the candles had burned down to their lowest point did the guests disperse, tipsy from the wine. The lantern light cast long shadows on the snow, much like the undisguised ambition hidden within this grand feast. Beneath the harmonious and joyous atmosphere, only one person remained, his brow furrowed in worry, his heart heavy—it was Shen Pei.

Deep within the palace, Liu Xie lay silently weeping, his face buried in his hands at his imperial desk. The New Year's Eve dinner on the desk had long since gone cold, and the small dishes were covered in a layer of frost, much like his heart at that moment. The palace doors creaked open, and Wang Yun, shrouded in the chill of the night, entered, his black official robes still stained with unmelted snowflakes.

"Save me, Your Majesty!" Liu Xie suddenly looked up, tears streaming down his pale face, his voice trembling like a candle in the wind. "Back in Xuchang, it was you who persuaded me to come to Hebei, saying that the Yuan family, with four generations of high-ranking officials, would surely protect the Han dynasty. But now... what should we do now?"

Wang Yun stood in the hall, gazing at the young emperor, his white beard disheveled from being pulled. After a long while, he sighed deeply, his voice filled with utter exhaustion: "Your Majesty, now that things have come to this, I have no other choice."

"The prestige of the Prince of Ji in Hebei has reached a point where there is nothing more to reward or bestow." He paused, each word sounding as if he were cutting flesh. "In the streets and alleys, the people only know of the Prince of Ji, not His Majesty; the civil and military officials all have their minds on the Yuan family, not on the Han dynasty. The will of the people is beyond human power to reverse."

Liu Xie's lips trembled as he grabbed Wang Yun's sleeve, his nails almost digging into the other's flesh: "Wang Shi, you are a veteran of three reigns, are you just going to stand by and watch the Han Dynasty perish?"

Wang Yun closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, all that remained in his eyes was despair: "It would be better if... Your Majesty were more pragmatic."

"What did you say?" Liu Xie abruptly released his grip, staggering back a few steps and bumping into the armrest of the dragon throne. "You want me... to abdicate?"

“Abdication can still ensure a peaceful life.” Wang Yun’s voice was very low, but every word was clear. “If you insist on not obeying, I fear it will cause trouble. There are many people around the Prince of Ji who are eager for quick success.”

"The Han Dynasty's four-hundred-year foundation..." Liu Xie slumped onto the dragon throne, covering his face with his hands, sobs escaping through his fingers, hoarse and inhuman, "Is it really going to be destroyed by my own hand? I don't believe it! The Han Dynasty's fate is not yet over!"

Wang Yun turned his back, gazing at the deep night outside the palace. Suddenly, two streams of tears slid down his cheeks and fell onto the cold gold bricks.

“Your Majesty,” his voice trembled, “I…I take my leave. I urge Your Majesty to make plans as soon as possible, for if you delay…it may be too late.”

After saying this, he bowed deeply, turned and walked out of the hall. As the hem of his robe swept across the threshold, it stirred up a gust of cold wind, causing the candlelight inside the hall to flicker violently. It cast Liu Xie's shadow on the wall, lonely and alone, as if he were about to be swallowed by the darkness.

The weeping on the dragon throne gradually subsided, leaving only suppressed sobs. Liu Xie gazed at the empty hall, at the flickering candlelight, and suddenly felt that the four-hundred-year-old Han Dynasty might truly be coming to an end. Moonlight streamed through the windowpanes, spreading a layer of frost on the floor, much like the icy coldness in his heart, devoid of any warmth.

The night was as dark as ink. Shen Pei sat alone before his desk, the candlelight casting flickering shadows on his face. The bamboo slips on the desk lay open, inscribed with the vows Yuan Shao had made when he entrusted his son to Shen Pei. The ink had long since dried, yet it burned his heart like a branding iron. These past few days, the image of the Prince of Ji, sword and shoes in the palace, and the courtiers fawning over him, swirled in his mind. That rebellious heart was blatantly obvious, making him restless and uneasy; the jade pendant he held between his fingers was almost soaked with sweat.

"Isn't the military advisor resting yet?" A rough voice came from outside the door. Yan Liang and Wen Chou, dressed in military uniforms, burst in, bringing with them the chill of the night dew. The two exchanged a glance and, seeing Shen Pei's solemn expression, knew what he was worried about.

Wen Chou spoke first, placing the sword at his waist on the table with a clang that made the candlelight flicker: "We both saw the way you behaved in the palace during the day, strategist. When the Prince of Ji entered the palace with his sword and shoes, your knuckles were white from gripping the court tablet. Why did you do that?"

Yan Liang echoed in a deep voice: "At today's banquet in the Prince of Ji's palace, which minister wasn't bowing and scraping to the Prince of Ji? The general trend is obvious, yet the strategist insists on going against it. Isn't he just asking for trouble?"