Chapter 492: The Emperor’s Fate

Blue skies and white clouds, green swallows over rice fields, and spiders spinning silk—these were the vibes of summer in Song You's memories.

The Daoist priest leaned on his bamboo staff, making his way up the mountain path.

Gradually, he reached the highest point of the official road.

Though not the mountain’s peak, it was already high enough. Below, a river flowed swiftly downstream.

Through mist and cloud, three mountains fade,

As though beyond the sky they're laid.

The rolling river, swift and wide,

Egret Island parts its tide.

[1]

Where the currents rushed, foamy waves swirled, pure white and unbroken—truly resembling a thousand heaps of snow.

Song You couldn’t help but pause, turning to look.

The sunlight was dazzling, illuminating a magnificent scene. A strange sensation stirred within him. He turned his head back toward the road ahead.

“Hmm?” The Daoist frowned.

“Hm?” Perched on the back of a horse nearby, a swallow noticed his reaction. Curious, it glanced ahead as well. Without a word, it flapped its wings and took off, soaring into the clouds and scouting the path ahead.

“

Rumble... rumble...

”

A faint tremor rippled through the earth, though the sound was not loud.

Echoes of distant shouting wove through the mountains.

“

Whoosh

...”

The swallow returned, hovering in midair with its wings beating against the wind.

“Sir, two groups of riders are engaged in a pursuit ahead. They both seem highly trained and are heading our way.”

“I see...”

“But I don’t know who they are.”

“Who else could it be?”

Song You had a vague sense of the answer.

He fell silent for a moment, then guided his horse to the roadside and stood still, watching.

The cries and the pounding of hooves grew clearer.

“Surrender, and you will not be killed!”

“You can't escape!”

“How can a carriage outrun horses? Surrender at once! We will let you return home safely!”

“You dare commit regicide? This is treason of the highest order!”

“Shoot that horse!”

Song You could even hear the clash of blades and spears.

The figures ahead finally came into view.

Leading the group was an unremarkable horse-drawn carriage. But upon closer inspection, the horses pulling it were clearly extraordinary. Behind the carriage, only a few dozen riders remained. Each one wore a helmet and armor, their bodies strong and sturdy.

These were elite warriors, and even their horses were exceptional, each carefully selected from a thousand. The riders occasionally turned back to fight, loosing arrows at their pursuers.

The guards were highly skilled, but so were their pursuers.

The Great Yan army was small, but every soldier was well-trained.

Arrows whistled through the air, fired by the pursuers. Even though the guards wore armor, the powerful bows and sharp arrows pierced through, embedding themselves in their backs like quills on a porcupine. One by one, the guards fell from their horses.

The pursuers were right—the carriage could never outrun mounted riders.

The enemy closed in, the guards dwindled. And at the same time, the carriage drew nearer to where Song You stood.

“Hya!”

“

Rumble...

”

The official road was littered with small pits and loose stones. The speeding carriage bounced violently over the uneven ground, and as the wind lifted the curtain, it revealed a frail, elderly figure seated inside.

“...”

Standing silently by the roadside, Song You watched without a word.

He had never expected to encounter the old emperor in such a simple and unremarkable way.

At this moment, he couldn’t help but wonder—so many emperors throughout history, whether defeated in battle or forced into exile, had vanished without a trace. Had they, in their desperate flight, ever brushed past ordinary people who should have never crossed their paths?

Did those ordinary people ever realize that the person passing them by had once ruled the entire world?

And could it be that what he had just glimpsed, so casually and unintentionally, was the very fate of an emperor whose final whereabouts would forever remain a mystery to future generations?

Inside the carriage, the old emperor used the last of his strength to call out, “Stop the carriage...”

“Hya...”

The soldier driving the carriage immediately pulled the reins, bringing it to a halt. He turned back, lifted the curtain, and looked at the emperor.

The emperor leaned out of the window.

“Sir... Save me...”

His voice was frail and weak.

At this moment, he was likely grateful that he was still conscious—that he had not continued to drift in and out of unconsciousness.

Standing at the roadside, Song You met his gaze.

Behind the carriage, the remaining imperial guards—just over twenty riders—quickly caught up. Though they did not understand why the emperor had stopped, they instantly surrounded the carriage, their wary eyes shifting between Song You and the pursuing soldiers.

“Your Majesty, why have we stopped?”

The pursuers arrived soon after—hundreds, perhaps thousands, continuing to pour in. They swiftly surrounded the carriage and the imperial guards.

Song You and his companions were also caught within the encirclement.

“Have you decided to surrender?”

“Ridiculous! How dare you pursue and hunt down His Majesty?!”

“His Majesty? Stop spouting nonsense! The entire world knows that the real emperor was taken to Yizhou by that false crown prince! The one in this carriage is nothing more than a treacherous minister masquerading as the emperor. This is high treason!”

“Enough with your lies! Leave at once, and you will be spared!”

“Drop your weapons, and you will be spared as well!”

Both sides shouted at each other, their voices hoarse and frenzied.

Yet the emperor seemed to hear none of it.

He simply extended a trembling hand out of the carriage window, his eyes vacant and unfocused, staring directly at the Daoist priest outside.

“Sir... save me... and ensure that the realm does not fall into chaos...”

Both sides, locked in their tense standoff, were momentarily stunned.

Then, as if synchronized, they all turned their heads to look at the young Daoist in the tattered old robe. Their gazes shifted to the reins-less jujube-red horse behind him, the swallow perched atop its back, and finally, to the calico cat standing upright on its hind legs at his feet, peering curiously at the old emperor through the carriage window.

Among the soldiers, a few former palace guards vaguely recalled seeing this Daoist before, their memories struggling to place him. Some officers, who had often listened to tales and rumors, found the sight of this peculiar group both strange and familiar.

“Who are you?” one of the pursuing soldiers demanded, glaring at Song You.

“Mind your manners!”

A tall, broad-shouldered general immediately stepped forward, silencing the soldier with a stern command. He then turned to Song You, his expression wary, before shifting his gaze toward the carriage.

“Honored sir! We are acting under the prince’s orders, carrying a secret edict from both His Highness and His Majesty. We are here to apprehend a treacherous minister who has plunged the nation into turmoil! You are an outsider, a Daoist[2]. No matter how great your abilities, please do not interfere in worldly affairs. Grant us passage!”

“Enough nonsense! His Majesty is right there in the carriage! If you, Immortal Master, truly possess great ability, then save the people from this crisis! And support the collapsing empire!”

The tension between both sides escalated sharply, swords drawn and ready for battle.

Inside the carriage, the old emperor seemed too weak to call out any longer. His clouded, dim eyes remained fixed on the Daoist, his frail body slumped against the wooden frame. His hair, once neatly arranged, was now disheveled, a stark contrast to the man he had been when they first met.

The Daoist stood in silence for a long time before finally stepping forward, leaning on his staff.

The jujube-red horse followed him closely.

The pursuers instantly tensed, gripping their weapons tightly. Some even nocked arrows onto their bows, but the general quickly barked out a command, stopping them.

The mountains fell into silence once more. Only the sound of the wind remained, along with the calm voice of the Daoist.

“Your Majesty has aged a great deal.”

His tone was steady, as if speaking to an old acquaintance.

“Sir... save me...”

“Your Majesty...”

Song You stood there, thinking for a long time. Countless words flashed through his mind, things he might have said.

But in the end, looking at the emperor’s frail and withered form, he chose not to voice any rebuke. Instead, he merely said, “Your Majesty is truly... a man of great self-regard.”

“Save me... The Great Yan’s golden age must not end here...”

“Your Majesty is mistaken. The golden age of Great Yan is destined to end,” Song You said calmly. “Great Yan itself will soon come to an end as well—just not yet.”

“Sir... save me...”

“And why should I? Was this not Your Majesty’s own choice?”

“They must not be allowed to succeed...”

“Hmm?”

“I am the ruler of all under heaven... I cannot die outside the palace...”

“...”

Song You gazed at the frail old emperor for a long time, saying nothing. Then, without a word, he turned and walked back to his horse.

All eyes followed his every movement. No one was without tension.

To them, this unarmed Daoist now seemed to hold the power to decide their fate.

But all they saw was the Daoist reaching into his pouch and retrieving a dagger. His expression remained as calm as ever as he turned back to the emperor.

“Does Your Majesty recognize this?”

“What... is it?”

“A Water-Splitting Blade. The Zheng family’s Water-Splitting Blade.”

“...”

The old emperor’s tired eyes narrowed.

After a while, he slowly opened them again. His voice, now barely louder than a whisper, was as fragile as a candle flickering in the wind. And yet, he spoke, “I have a few questions for you, sir...”

“Please, ask.”

“After my death... will I be remembered as one of the greatest emperors throughout the ages?”

“...”

Song You shook his head. He hadn’t expected that, at this moment, what concerned the emperor most was his legacy. But he still answered patiently:

“In my humble opinion, Your Majesty will not be remembered as ‘the greatest emperor throughout the ages.’ You are not worthy of comparison to the founding emperor. However, considering the prosperity of Great Yan under your reign, history will likely still remember you as a great emperor.”

“And after my death... what then?”

“Has Your Majesty still not had your fill of glory in this life?”

“

Sigh...

”

“Do you have more questions?”

“Will Great Yan... remain stable?”

“I am merely a Daoist, not an emperor. I do not concern myself with matters of state or the affairs of the world,” Song You replied, meeting the emperor’s gaze.

He truly did not know whether Great Yan would remain stable. But he hoped it would—at least for now.

If chaos was inevitable, let it come only after he had settled the affairs of the Heavenly Palace.

That would be the right time.

The best time.

Hearing this, the emperor narrowed his eyes again, as if even the last remnants of his strength had drained away. Yet he still clung to his thoughts, unwilling to let go, and asked one final question, “Sir... do you truly intend to stand by and watch?”

“...” Song You stared at him for a long moment before finally speaking, “Your Majesty has asked me many questions. Now, I have one for you.”

“What is it?”

“Do you still remember, back when Your Majesty chose the crown prince, the officer from the Wude Division who was executed by Prince Shun’s sword?”

The emperor’s eyes flickered. “What are you trying to say...?”

“I simply wish to ask—does Your Majesty still believe your life is worth more than his?”

“...”

“Besides,” Song You continued, his voice as calm as ever, “Your Majesty must be jesting. You are indeed remarkable, and Prince Shun is your own flesh and blood. Even if these soldiers take you back, they might not dare commit regicide.”

He turned his gaze away, his tone remaining steady.

“But with Your Majesty’s current condition, I doubt you will live long enough to see the palace in Changjing again.”

“...”

The old emperor could only look at him, unable to speak.

“Only true heroes remain steadfast to their nature, and only true scholars carry themselves with distinction and grace.” Song You spoke as he leaned on his staff and turned away. “If Your Majesty truly believes yourself to be the greatest emperor throughout the ages[3], then your fate is already sealed. There is no need for further words.”

He took a step forward and continued, “Give the order for your officers to surrender. Whoever ascends the throne next, the affairs of the state will no longer be of your concern. Your twilight years are already lost—do not waste more lives needlessly.”

Countless eyes were fixed on him.

Some whispered among themselves, asking who he was.

Many had heard stories from the northern army, or legends from elsewhere. Some managed to piece together an idea of his identity, but they only dared to speak in hushed voices.

Song You paid no heed. He leaned on his staff and continued forward.

The jujube-red horse and the calico cat followed closely behind.

“

Clatter

...”

The soldiers parted, making way for him.

Behind him, a faint commotion stirred.

A pity, really—for these palace guards. Every one of them was a seasoned warrior, chosen for their loyalty and skill in battle. Even now, facing certain defeat, they refused to surrender. They would fight to the death for their emperor.

And so, this was the fate of this emperor.

Song You supposed, in a way, he had inadvertently helped him.

He did not know what orders Prince Shun had originally given and whether he intended to bring the emperor back alive. But even if the prince refused to let the emperor return to Changjing, he could not openly commit regicide. A monarch had to die a monarch’s death.

Especially this one, who was not only his father, but also the very architect of Great Yan’s golden age.

Just as the pursuing soldiers had relentlessly chased him, yet none dared to admit that they were hunting the emperor himself.

Even regicide required a veil of propriety.

Now, after Song You's exchange with the emperor, every soldier present knew, beyond doubt, that this was indeed the true emperor. That knowledge alone made it difficult for their commander to strike the final blow.

The emperor would not live for many more days.

At the very least, this granted him a shred of dignity. A final courtesy, for an old acquaintance.

1. This is from a poem 登金陵凤凰台 by Chinese poet, Li Bai. The poem literally translates to “The three mountains loomed, faintly visible through the mist, as if they had fallen beyond the blue sky. The river was split into two streams by Egret Island.” The hazy imagery of "three mountains seeming to fall beyond the sky" and the expansive scene of "two rivers splitting around Egret Island" create a boundless landscape, showcasing the immense power of nature and a dynamic perception of space and time. Egret Island is the nickname for Xiamen, China. I’ve done my best to maintain the original meaning and essence of the poem, while presenting it in a poem form. ☜

2. The raw uses 方外之人. 方外之人 is a Chinese idiom referring to individuals whose words and actions transcend worldly customs and conventions. Later, it came to specifically denote Buddhist monks and Daoist priests. The phrase originates from

Zhuangzi · The Great Ancestral Master

. A literal translation would be

an outsider beyond worldly affairs

, but I’ve decided to go with something that readers can easily understand while preserving the meaning,

an outsider and a Daoist

. ☜

3. The raw uses the term 千古一帝. It literally means "the one and only emperor of a thousand ages."It refers to a ruler so exceptional that they stand unmatched throughout history. To explain why I chose “the greatest emperor throughout the ages” as the translation:

千古 literally means "a thousand ages," but in idiomatic usage, it conveys the idea of all of history or eternity. "Throughout the ages" effectively conveys this sense of vast historical scope.

一帝 means "one emperor," but in this phrase, it implies a singular, unmatched ruler. "The greatest emperor" conveys this sense of exceptional status.

千古一帝 is often used to describe emperors who were uniquely influential, powerful, or legendary.

"The greatest emperor throughout the ages" retains this idea, emphasizing their supreme and lasting impact. ☜