BEGW C103

Chapter 103

Ying Changchuan’s hand was a full size larger than Jiang Yuxun’s. Though they were holding the same brush, it looked distinctly smaller in his grasp.

Ying Changchuan kept his wrist suspended for a long while, yet the brush did not fall.

Just as Jiang Yuxun thought the emperor had merely been joking and was about to breathe a sigh of relief, the Son of Heaven instead set the brush down with solemn seriousness and began writing on the paper.

Zhaodu, Moon-Sheath(yueqiao) Ridge, Yanxian Lake… familiar names appeared on the page one by one, each matched with a date.

Ying Changchuan truly seemed to be planning to leave Xianyou Palace and take a long, indulgent rest nearby!

Even though he had braced himself, Jiang Yuxun still couldn’t help blurting out in shock, “Your Majesty really plans to give yourself such a long holiday?”

As he spoke, he turned to look at the emperor in disbelief.

Ying Changchuan’s fingers paused briefly. He didn’t stop writing, merely replying casually, “It’s true that I’ve never rested for such a long time since childhood.”

He then turned to look at Jiang Yuxun, as though expecting some sort of response from him.

The Ying Changchuan of the past had been a genuine workaholic.

Not only during normal working hours—even on rest days he would summon people to attend him at court.

From top to bottom, the bureaucracy had suffered bitterly.

Though his tone carried a faint hint of regret, recalling those days of being dragged into endless overtime, Jiang Yuxun felt not the slightest ripple of sympathy. If anything, there was a trace of pleasure.

Thinking this, he couldn’t help letting out a soft laugh.

Before long, the blank sheet of paper was filled to the brim.

At that moment, the emperor suddenly lifted his gaze toward Jiang Yuxun, set down the brush, and abruptly pressed the man in front of him down onto the desk.

One of Ying Changchuan’s hands pinned Jiang Yuxun’s wrists above his head, the other braced at the back of his skull.

Forced to lie back against the desk, Jiang Yuxun let out a quiet gasp. “Your Majesty—”

At the same time, he glanced around out of the corner of his eye.

The ink on the “schedule” had yet to dry; the sheet was blown toward the edge of the desk, liable to fall at any moment.

Inside the grand hall, besides himself and Ying Changchuan, there were only rows of empty seats and the massive taotie-patterned throne screen.

…This was Liuyun Hall.

The very heart of power in Great Zhou—where civil and military officials gathered for court!

How could Ying Changchuan do something like this here?

Guilt filled Jiang Yuxun’s eyes. As he struggled, his official robes loosened.

The emperor’s gaze followed, settling on his collar as he narrowed his eyes meaningfully. “Jiang Shizhong committing impropriety before the throne—what crime should that be?”

…Why was Ying Changchuan acting again?

Jiang Yuxun hadn’t wanted to play along, but had no choice but to answer honestly. “You’re the one abusing your authority!”

Jiang Yuxun’s wrists were already rubbed red by the edge of the desk, making his words look all the more strange.

Ying Changchuan, of course, didn’t let go.

As he gently stroked the dark hair beneath his fingers, he murmured by Jiang Yuxun’s ear, “What—am I not allowed?”

His tone was calm, but the danger, disdain, and even arrogance in his words were unmistakably real.

At this moment, the emperor seemed to have dropped all pretense, fully revealing his true nature.

—He only wanted to act as he pleased.

At the very instant his words ended, Ying Changchuan suddenly bent down and kissed Jiang Yuxun’s exposed wrist.

The wrist marked with red trembled in response. Not only did the paper at the desk’s edge flutter down to the floor, even the ink-smeared brush fell heavily at that moment, splashing black ink across the ground.

Great swathes of sunlight streamed in through the windows, flooding Liuyun Hall.

It was all utterly absurd.

The people of Lingtian Platform were not waiting directly outside Xianyou Palace.

More precisely, they had been stopped by soldiers at the foot of the mountain where the traveling palace stood.

Not far away, the Yi River flowed eastward; from here, the palace gates were not even visible.

Time passed bit by bit, the sunlight growing ever harsher.

The common folk who had also gathered here were drenched in sweat, yet none would leave to escape the heat.

They surrounded the carriages halted below Xianyou Palace.

Those on the outer ring were boiling with anger, itching to rush forward and drag the shamans standing outside the carriage into the open.

The people at the front—who had once believed in Lingtian Platform with unwavering faith—now felt doubt stirring in their hearts. Still, they spread their arms to block those behind them, clinging to a final shred of hope as they sought an explanation from Shang You:

“…Diviner, there are rumors that Lingtian Platform deliberately sent people to leak Zefang Commandery’s grain stores and supplies to the Zherou. Is this true or not?!”

“Diviner! Diviner, are you inside the carriage?”

“Please, just come out and look at us once!”

No matter what the crowd shouted, the carriage bearing the jade plaque of “Lingtian Platform” remained motionless.

The shamans standing outside wore expressionless faces and said nothing.

Inside the carriage, Shang You—dressed in pale lead-white ritual robes—kept his eyes tightly shut.

Yet the knuckles gripping the jade token, bleached white by excessive force, betrayed how far his heart was from calm.

Seeing the Lingtian Platform entourage play dead, the crowd behind grew increasingly agitated.

“Why is no one speaking? Are they guilty?!”

“Where is he—does the Diviner even exist in there?!”

Someone cupped his hands and shouted toward the carriage, “Let Shang You come explain himself—!”

Another person, standing atop a distant boulder, cried out loudly, “Diviner! Some say Lingtian Platform is deliberately using this affair to sacrifice the people. Is it true or not?!”

The moment those words rang out, the surroundings fell silent.

The Xuan Seal Bureau had not released the full truth of what happened in Zefang Commandery.

Yet the more things were half-hidden, the more suspicious the people became, convinced something sinister lay beneath.

As time fermented the rumors, many exaggerated and outlandish conspiracy theories even began to circulate.

At last, one of the shamans outside the carriage couldn’t help lowering his voice and speaking through the curtain to Shang You. “Diviner… what should we do now?”

Explain?

But those rumors were indeed tied to Lingtian Platform, and there were witnesses and evidence already in the Xuan Seal Bureau’s hands.

Even with ten thousand times the courage, Lingtian Platform would not dare baldly deny everything.

Yet to explain only part of it—wouldn’t that be tantamount to admitting the rest?

Standing under the blazing sun, the shaman suddenly broke out in a cold sweat.

He lowered his head, glancing sideways at the carriage.

At last, Shang You’s voice emerged from within. “Wait a little longer.”

He had come here to gamble on one last sliver of hope: if the emperor summoned him into Xianyou Palace, there might still be room for negotiation…

“Y-yes, Diviner,” the shaman replied through clenched teeth, forcing himself to remain where he was.

The moment his words ended, Shang You slowly opened his eyes inside the carriage.

Expressionless, he lowered his gaze to his palm and slowly rubbed his fingers over the crack in the jade token.

No one understood better than Shang You—who had kept a low profile for so many years—the danger of arrogance, and how this move by Lingtian Platform was nothing less than a reckless gamble…

Yet everything happening outside Xianyou Palace, and the questions shouted by the crowd, did not make Shang You regret his choice.

On the contrary, they convinced him he had not been wrong.

—The people of Great Zhou already trusted the court implicitly.

Even if he had done nothing, once the emperor returned victorious, the Xuan Seal Bureau could fabricate a similar charge and pin it on Lingtian Platform—and they would still struggle to clear their name.

Seen this way, it was better to gamble from the outset, while there was still a chance of winning.

Perhaps it was because of years upon years of bountiful harvests.

Perhaps because of the firearms capable of severing the Yi River and the thunderous booms that shook the entire plain.

Or perhaps because of the torrential rains and floods of earlier years…

Unknowingly, the people’s hearts had already tilted toward the court.

“Diviner!”

“Shang You—!”

Seeing no response from Lingtian Platform, the surrounding crowd grew increasingly agitated.

They tried to surge forward; even the believers guarding the front began to falter.

A summer wind swept through the thick curtains. Through a sudden gap, Shang You lifted his eyes toward Xianyou Palace towering above—and toward the soldiers in heavy armor holding long swords.

He clenched the jade token in his hand. The sharp fracture bit into his palm.

In the next instant, blood seeped into the jade.

It stained the pale ritual robes he wore.

Shang You suddenly lowered his gaze to his bloodied fingers, then let out a deep, hollow laugh.

His laughter grew louder and louder, yet was completely drowned out by the roar of the crowd outside.

“Shang You! Is what they’re saying true or not?!” someone suddenly broke through the blockade and shoved his way forward.

Many of that man’s relatives and friends had migrated north to Zefang Commandery in recent years.

If Zherou’s southern raids had truly succeeded, they would have been the first to die!

Thinking of this, even those who had once devoutly believed in Lingtian Platform couldn’t help but erupt in fury.

There were many like him. Most of Zefang Commandery’s residents had moved there from around Zhaodu; nearly all had family or friends here.

The sudden appearance of the man startled the shaman guarding the carriage. He cried out and raised his hand to block him. “Back off! Back off! Who gave you permission to disturb the Diviner?!”

Arrogant his whole life, the shaman didn’t feel there was anything wrong with his words—his tone still carried habitual disdain.

That arrogance finally ignited the crowd’s rage.

If there had been lingering doubt a moment ago, the shaman’s attitude now made it plain to everyone—

Lingtian Platform truly regarded them as ants.

“Disturb?” the man who had pushed forward looked at him coldly. Before those behind could pull him back, he suddenly raised his arm high.

Only then did the crowd realize he had somehow picked up a stone!

“Stop him—!”

Before the shaman’s shout could finish, the man hurled the stone with all his strength.

With a deafening bang, it smashed into the carriage Shang You was riding in.

The carriage rocked violently, its wooden wall caving inward.

The open ground outside Xianyou Palace descended into total chaos.

At last, the smile faded from Shang You’s face.

Slowly, he raised his blood-soaked hand and pressed it against the dented carriage wall.

“Go…” Shang You said softly.

His voice was swallowed by the clamor outside.

He pressed harder, as if trying to force the wall back into shape.

Blood dripped from his fingers onto the ground. After a silent pause, he clenched his teeth and, for the first time, raised his voice in loss of composure. “I said—go!”

Shang You’s command carried outside.

The shamans guarding the area exchanged glances, then took a deep breath and dragged the horses through the sea of people, fleeing toward the official road…

※

Ying Changchuan was in no hurry to deal with Lingtian Platform.

He even seemed to forget about them, casting the group aside for the time being.

Yet on the third day after Shang You and the others left Xianyou Palace, he had the few spies publicly executed by lingchi at the execution ground in the southwest corner of Zhaodu.

As noon approached, the prisoners—necks, hands, and feet bound in cangues and shackles—were escorted out of the imperial prison and onto the execution grounds.

Boards were affixed to their backs, inscribed in red with their names, native places, and crimes.

Though the writing was dense, it spread across the entire execution ground in no time.

—So the rumors had been true.

These men had either taken Lingtian Platform’s bribes or accepted its promises, then leaked Great Zhou’s villages, granaries, garrisons, and supply routes to the Zherou.

“Isn’t that Xiang Yanma?”

“…Fan Zheng is there too!”

 

Previously, the common people had only known of the incident, not the individuals involved.

Now that they saw with their own eyes those prisoners—covered in blood, wooden boards strapped to their backs—someone immediately recognized them.

“So it really is those few!”

Hearing this, a resident who lived close to the execution ground said bitterly, “As far as I know, Fan Zheng was a devout believer of the Lingtian Platform. Two years ago he even secretly sought out a shaman to perform rituals. Someone like him would never cooperate with the court to stage a false accusation…”

“The man behind Fan Zheng—when his entire family moved away from Zhaodu last year, he donated all their property to the Lingtian Platform!”

The appearance of these individuals utterly destroyed the last shred of trust the people around Zhaodu had in the Lingtian Platform.

The Lingtian Platform had deliberately chosen these men—its most devout followers.

Back when they still lived in Zhaodu, whenever the Lingtian Platform held activities, they were always the first to attend.

Over time, they had even gained a bit of notoriety among the populace.

There was no way the court could have bribed such people to put on an act…

“Midday has arrived—”

Cold steel blades slowly pressed against the prisoners’ bodies.

In the next instant, screams tore through the execution ground.

A thick stench of blood was carried on the wind into the crowd’s nostrils.

Yet not a single onlooker showed mercy, nor did anyone leave because of it.

At this moment, their eyes held only dense hatred and contempt…

An hour later, a sandalwood carriage sped through the outskirts of Zhaodu, heading toward Moon-Sheath Mountain.

Seated inside were the Son of Heaven of Great Zhou and Minister Jiang Yuxun.

Midsummer was already sweltering, and today the air carried an additional, inexplicable restlessness.

Sitting by the window, Jiang Yuxun lifted the curtain and looked outside.

The carriage had already reached the foot of Moon-Sheath Mountain.

At first glance, the towering peaks still seemed hidden in dense mist as usual.

But upon closer inspection, one could see that what wreathed the mountainside today was not cloud or fog—

It was billowing black smoke!

…

The construction of the Lingtian Platform had taken over a century, consuming vast manpower and resources.

Its scale was nearly two-thirds that of Xianyou Palace.

Yet now, nearly half of the Lingtian Platform was swallowed by raging flames.

Within a small courtyard on the southern side of the Lingtian Platform—

Shang You, dressed in pale lead-white ritual robes, held a dagger in one hand and a jade flask in the other.

He walked at an unhurried pace, hacking apart the rare flowers and trees in the garden with the dagger while pouring out the liquid from the jade flask.

Before long, the heavy scent of tung oil completely drowned out the fragrance of blossoms.

Shang You finally stopped, smiling as he turned to look back at the garden—and at the roaring flames behind it.

At the same time, he tilted his ear, listening to the distant cries for help and wails of the shamans.

Not far away, exotic beasts transported from various regions howled as they fled in panic.

Driven by instinct, they rushed into the gardens that had not yet caught fire.

In the next instant, Shang You casually tossed down a fire striker.

With a dull boom—

Flames instantly engulfed the summer-blooming plants and surged toward the terrified antelope.

Large tears welled up in the animals’ dark, round eyes.

Yet before they could fall to the ground, they were evaporated by the fire, vanishing without a trace.

Shang You chuckled, as if blind to the carnage before him, and continued forward with the jade flask in hand.

By now, he had reached the edge of the Lingtian Platform.

“The Emperor arrives—”

At the sound of the eunuch’s announcement, Shang You—still pouring out tung oil—finally halted.

In the next moment, a loud crash echoed.

Members of the Xuan Seal Bureau, who had come alongside the emperor, hacked open the tightly locked courtyard gate with long sabers.

Shang You instinctively looked toward the source of the sound.

Across a distance of several dozen zhang, he saw Ying Changchuan and Jiang Yuxun leading their entourage.

The previously expressionless Shang You suddenly burst into loud laughter, then drifted forward like a specter.

“Cough—cough…”

Though this area lay upwind, the entire Moon-Sheath Mountain was now wrapped in thick smoke.

The moment Jiang Yuxun arrived outside the Lingtian Platform, he began coughing violently.

The fire had already burned for nearly an hour.

With a thunderous crash, the first of the blazing halls in the distance collapsed to the ground.

“Hahaha… Your Majesty, Lord Jiang, you’ve come to see whether I’m truly dead, haven’t you?”

Shang You’s voice cut through the din and reached Jiang Yuxun’s ears.

As he spoke, he continued pouring the contents of the jade flask. Once the tung oil was exhausted, he flung the flask forcefully to the ground, shattering it.

Throughout it all, the emperor at Jiang Yuxun’s side never once spared Shang You a glance. Instead, he reached out and gently patted Jiang Yuxun’s shoulder and back.

Lowering his voice, Jiang Yuxun said, “I’m fine, Your Majesty.”

After speaking, he lifted his head again toward Shang You.

Early that morning, Jiang Yuxun had left Xianyou Palace with Ying Changchuan to return to Zhaodu.

Before the spies could even be dealt with, the Xuan Seal Bureau had rushed over to report—

Shang You had sealed the gates of the Lingtian Platform and set it ablaze from within.

Upon hearing this, Jiang Yuxun and Ying Changchuan hurried here at once.

At the time, the Xuan Seal Bureau suspected Shang You meant to use the fire to escape.

But the inferno before their eyes made it abundantly clear that Shang You had no intention of fleeing.

As the Diviner of the Lingtian Platform, even at the brink of ruin Shang You still retained his pride.

He refused to become a prisoner, and even more so refused to be judged by the world alongside the shamans.

So he chose to burn everything to the ground before the court could act.

Within the Lingtian Platform, towering columns slowly melted under the flames, collapsing like candles.

Palatial structures and soaring pavilions—built with the lifetimes of countless craftsmen—were swallowed by the sea of fire in an instant, creating a strange, awe-inspiring beauty.

Standing outside the Lingtian Platform, Jiang Yuxun inevitably inhaled the thick smoke.

By now, however, he had completely forgotten the urge to cough.

He slowly raised his head, gazing at the raging flames.

…This scene, by sheer coincidence, overlapped with history.

The Lingtian Platform, glorious for a hundred years, ultimately perished in a great fire.

As the blaze crept closer, Shang You—still in his pale ritual robes—suddenly took two steps forward.

…It was Jiang Yuxun’s appearance that had hastened the Lingtian Platform’s destruction.

Thinking this, Shang You turned to Jiang Yuxun. Shaking his head lightly, he lowered his voice in puzzlement.

“Lord Jiang, someone like you, blessed by the Profound Heavens—why would you betray them?”

—Even now, he insisted that everything Jiang Yuxun possessed came from the “favor” of the Profound Heavens.

Seeing Shang You reach the gate, the Xuan Seal Bureau guards raised their swords, blocking him warily.

“Boom—”

Another tower collapsed, instantly reduced to blackened ruin.

The verdant trees outside the Lingtian Platform swayed in the waves of heat.

Jiang Yuxun looked deeply at Shang You, but did not answer.

Shang You suddenly laughed and shouted toward the emperor,

“Ying Changchuan defies the Profound Heavens—his empire is doomed to fall, his crime unforgivable—ah!”

Before his words could finish, another crash erupted behind him.

The Xuan Seal guards immediately dodged aside.

But Shang You, standing at the gate and wholly consumed by rage, continued speaking as if unaware of what was happening behind him—

Even within the sea of fire, he continued cursing Great Zhou and Ying Changchuan with ruin.

The flames grew ever fiercer.

In the next instant, a torrent of fire surged out of the Lingtian Platform with the mountain wind, roaring like a dragon—

And in a blink, it swallowed the pale-robed figure whole.

Cries of trapped beasts rang out from within the platform, while birds on Moon-Sheath Mountain scattered in panic.

Thick smoke engulfed the entire forest in an instant.

Even the nearby stream had been heated to a rolling boil by the surrounding flames.

The Lingtian Platform—once standing atop the mountain like a lunar laurel palace—vanished completely at that moment.

Reduced to drifting ash and smoke, dispersed without a trace…

The soldiers stationed here in advance were already prepared with firefighting tools.

As water from the stream was thrown onto the flames, Ying Changchuan—who had watched the Lingtian Platform meet its end—finally took Jiang Yuxun’s hand and led him down the mountain.

“Let’s go.”

From beginning to end, there was not the slightest surprise on the emperor’s face.

The Lingtian Platform’s roots ran deep; many people around Zhaodu had once believed in it devoutly.

To deny the Lingtian Platform was, in essence, to deny their former selves.

If Shang You and the shamans had been executed publicly like the spies, the people would not have accepted it either.

Ying Changchuan, raised in this era, understood this all too well.

These past few days, he hadn’t forgotten about the Lingtian Platform—he had simply been waiting for Shang You to act on his own.

—Just like the death of the former Grand Diviner.

…

Leaves scorched by fire drifted down from the trees of Moon-Sheath Mountain.

Like blossoms falling through the wilds.

The moment they boarded the carriage to leave the mountain, Jiang Yuxun suddenly tightened his grip around Ying Changchuan’s hand.

“What’s wrong, A-Xun?” the emperor asked, brushing ash from his hair.

Jiang Yuxun instinctively held onto Ying Changchuan and looked up.

“Shang You cursed you at the end.”

“Yes,” Ying Changchuan replied with a faint smile, unconcerned.

Having never believed in the Profound Heavens since childhood, he cared little for Shang You’s curse.

Jiang Yuxun had not cared about curses either—but seeing the Lingtian Platform reduced to ashes just as recorded in The History of Zhou made his heart tighten once more.

Looking straight into Ying Changchuan’s eyes, he said with utmost seriousness and a trace of longing,

“Everything Shang You said was false. You’re in such good health—you’ll definitely live to a hundred.”

Indeed. Ying Changchuan was strong and uninjured. There was no way he would die young as Shang You had cursed.

He was simply worrying over nothing.

After saying this, Jiang Yuxun finally relaxed, lifting the curtain to look back at the sea of fire.

Within the Lingtian Platform stood hundreds of towers.

As they collapsed into flames, they let out piercing, thunderous crashes.

Focused on observing the blaze, Jiang Yuxun failed to notice that at the very moment his words ended, Ying Changchuan frowned slightly.

As the carriage jolted along, the emperor raised his hand and gently cupped Jiang Yuxun’s cheek.

“A-Xun.”

“Mm?” Jiang Yuxun froze, turning to look at him.

Those eyes were still the same cool, pale ash-gray as always.

Yet Jiang Yuxun felt as though he saw raging flames reflected within them.

Ying Changchuan shook his head. His voice was soft, but solemn beyond measure.

“Living to a hundred is nothing compared to spending each day with you.”

The moment his words fell, he leaned down and kissed the person beside him.

“Mm—”

It was an unprecedentedly fierce kiss, leaving Jiang Yuxun momentarily unable to respond.

Today, Ying Changchuan was not satisfied with just that—mid-kiss, he bit down hard on Jiang Yuxun’s lips.

When he tasted the faint metallic tang, he drew it to his own lips with his tongue.

As though confirming his possession.