The late autumn chill brought frost, and the once lush fields were now withered and yellow.
Along the post road leading to Henei, banners fluttered in the wind, and the military presence was imposing.
Every so often, the group heading north to welcome the Emperor would hear the continuous beat of war drums.
At first, they weren’t sure what it meant, but now they knew—it was the signal for the soldiers to reorganize their formations and continue their march.
Shao Xun’s strict military discipline was evident.
Even in this vast, open wilderness with no enemies in sight, the thousands of troops under his command followed orders meticulously, without a hint of carelessness.
At the center of the procession were nearly six hundred soldiers of the Silver Spear Army.
While they might not be as formidable in battle as the central army of the kingdom, they made up for it with their diligence and obedience.
This was the result of countless beatings and strict training after they enlisted, and it was also a testament to Shao Xun’s authority.
Among the Silver Spear Army, Mi Huang and Wang Yan rode side by side, with Shao Xun trailing slightly behind them.
Behind him were Yu Liang, Xu Lang, Wang Dun, and others.
Yu Liang’s father, Yu Chen, had also joined the group.
Shao Xun had personally invited him, ensuring that he would be among the front ranks when they welcomed the Emperor, giving him a chance to make an impression.
Yu Chen’s feelings were mixed.
He knew Shao Xun meant well.
With his current position, if he could claim credit for welcoming the Emperor, he could easily secure a post as a prefect—something he had long desired.
But he also knew things weren’t that simple.
Shao Xun was ambitious and likely had his own agenda.
The prefecture he might end up with probably wouldn’t be in the south, as he had hoped, but somewhere in the north.
This made him hesitate.
Still, a position in the south wasn’t guaranteed.
Too many disillusioned scholars were eyeing those posts.
If he could become a prefect of a major commandery in the Central Plains, he should count himself lucky.
With these thoughts weighing on his mind, Yu Chen rode on, lost in contemplation.
Hu Mufu sat in an ox cart, occasionally glancing at Shao Xun on horseback.
He was still worried.
With Ye City fallen, the Crown Prince had nowhere to go.
To the west was Bingzhou, to the east was Qingzhou, and to the north was Youzhou—all closing in on him.
Honestly, his only option was to head south to Luoyang.
But that route was far from safe.
If Sima Yue decided to eliminate him, the fates of Sima Jiong and Sima Yi would serve as grim reminders.
For now, they could only hope that Sima Yue had some sense of decency and that Mi Huang and Shao Xun weren’t the type to scheme for personal gain, ensuring the Crown Prince’s survival.
If all else failed, they would have to flee west to Chang’an and see if Sima Yong, the Grand Tutor, would take them in.
Yu Liang and Xu Lang, on the other hand, were in high spirits.
Sima Ying’s hasty retreat south and the Emperor’s return to Luoyang signaled a complete victory for the Prince of Donghai.
As members of his retinue, they had bright futures ahead, and nothing could be more exciting.
As for Wang Dun, he was indifferent.
His family background meant he didn’t need to rely on such symbolic gestures as welcoming the Emperor.
With his elder brother’s influence, he could simply wait for an appointment.
No matter what achievements others had, they couldn’t compete with him—unless the Prince of Donghai no longer needed his brother to lend prestige to the court.
But that was impossible.
A court without renowned scholars and talented individuals would be a laughingstock.
So, Wang Dun was confident.
He had only come along today to see the spectacle.
The Emperor? He was just another figure.
When the opportunity arose, anyone could replace him.
After several days of traveling north, they soon arrived at the majestic Yellow River.
“Halt!” A messenger galloped south, shouting the command.
“Halt! Wait for the drum signal before proceeding.” The messenger deliberately slowed his horse, repeating the order along the way.
Wang Dun snorted in disdain.
Was Shao Xun treating all these officials and nobles like common soldiers? How presumptuous.
He wanted to keep going, but the carriages and horses ahead had already stopped.
Grumbling, Wang Dun dismounted to see what was happening.
Mi Huang, Shao Xun, and Wang Yan climbed a small hill near the ferry crossing.
Before them stretched a desolate landscape on both sides of the river, devoid of human activity.
The once-thriving ferry crossing hadn’t seen merchants or travelers in some time.
In the distance, the faint outline of a fortress could be seen.
The autumn wind carried the intermittent sound of bells—likely the fortress’s alarm, mistaking their group for bandits.
After all, soldiers and bandits weren’t so different sometimes.
Footsteps approached as Hu Mufu, panting, climbed the hill. “The messenger reports that the Emperor paid his respects at the imperial tombs in Wen County yesterday and set out today. He should cross the river in the next day or two.”
The “messenger” was naturally from the Crown Prince’s retinue.
Shao Xun recalled events from over half a year ago.
Back then, Sima Ying had been at the height of his power, leaving fifty thousand troops to guard Luoyang while he returned to his stronghold in Ye City, attempting to control the court from afar.
To be fair, Jizhou was indeed the strongest among the various commanderies.
Even up to the Tang dynasty, Hebei remained the most populous and prosperous region in the country.
Qinghe silk was renowned as the finest in the land.
Families that passed down scholarly traditions or excelled in both literature and martial arts were countless.
The Yongji Canal connected directly to Youzhou, greatly boosting commerce.
The vast stores of grain, money, and weapons in Beizhou earned it the title of “Northern Treasury of the Empire.”
But even with such a prosperous region, poor governance could lead to ruin.
Sima Ying seemed to have learned from the mistakes of Sima Lun, Sima Jiong, and Sima Yi.
After his victory, he quickly left Luoyang and returned to Ye City.
But perhaps he hadn’t learned enough, as he assumed the roles of Prime Minister and Crown Prince, manipulating court affairs from Ye City and becoming a target for all.
Otherwise, even as brothers, Sima Yue might not have been able to persuade Sima Xiao and Sima Teng to support him.
Politics was a complex art.
“Is the Emperor in any trouble?” Mi Huang asked Hu Mufu.
By now, everyone knew about the Emperor borrowing money for food and understood the dire state of his retinue.
The escort consisted of a hundred or so soldiers, mostly defeated troops from Ye City.
There were also over a hundred members of the imperial family, ministers, and their families—the number that had fled Ye City.
After Sima Ying left, the Ye City garrison had scattered, and Wang Jun’s forces had attacked, pillaging and killing.
Some of the imperial family and ministers who had been slow to flee had joined the Emperor’s group, swelling their numbers to several hundred.
The three thousand coins the Emperor had borrowed were only enough to feed himself and his immediate attendants.
The rest had to fend for themselves.
After such a long journey, life must have been extremely difficult.
The money Hu Mufu had brought back could only provide temporary relief.
“The Emperor…” Hu Mufu’s face showed distress. “Wang Jun has already entered Ye City. His troops have been looting, and many have died. He even sent Wuhuan chieftain Jie Zhu to pursue us, reaching Chaoge before turning back. The Emperor fled in such haste that he lost his shoes. When he paid his respects at the tombs in Wen County, he had to borrow shoes from his attendants. It’s truly pitiful.”
Everyone exchanged uneasy glances.
Wang Jun clearly had no intention of letting Sima Ying go.
After capturing Ye City, he had sent Wuhuan cavalry in pursuit, chasing them all the way to Chaoge County.
This county was located in Jijun, not far from Ye City.
To pursue them so far showed just how much Wang Jun hated Sima Ying.
Perhaps this was the main reason Sima Ying had decided to flee.
Staying in Hebei, if he fell into Wang Jun’s hands, even if Sima Yue didn’t want to kill him, Wang Jun wouldn’t spare him.
The fact that the Emperor had lost his shoes was further evidence of the intensity of Wang Jun’s pursuit.
“Commander Shao,” Mi Huang turned to Shao Xun.
“Yes.”
“Take your troops across the river and meet the Emperor,” Mi Huang ordered. “We’ll prepare the ceremonial arrangements at Fuping Ford to welcome His Majesty.”
“Understood.” Shao Xun didn’t hesitate and immediately agreed.
Mi Huang’s caution was wise.
What if Wang Jun, having failed to catch them the first time, sent troops after them again? Especially since the Emperor had lingered in Wen County to pay his respects, Wang Jun might get ideas.
After all, Sima Teng and Wang Jun had only joined the campaign at the invitation of the Minister of Works.
They weren’t his subordinates but allies.
Even brothers had to settle accounts, let alone an outsider like Wang Jun.
The Minister of Works had no power to control Wang Jun; he could only offer suggestions.
Sima Ying was one thing, but if the Emperor were captured by Wang Jun, it would be a disaster.
Without delay, Shao Xun selected two thousand five hundred men from the training corps and the central army of the kingdom.
They crossed the pontoon bridge and headed north toward Wen County.
The wind grew stronger.
In an uncovered carriage, Emperor Sima Zhong huddled under a thin blanket, lost in sorrow.
He was so hungry!
Surely someone in Luoyang was pounding rice by now?
No, he wanted marrow cakes! It had been so long since he’d had one, and he missed them dearly.
Sima Zhong swallowed hard and craned his neck to look ahead.
“Minister Gu,” he called out.
“Your servant is here,” Gu Rong, riding alongside the carriage, responded.
“How many more days until we reach Luoyang?”
“At most three days,” Gu Rong replied.
Sima Zhong felt slightly reassured but then asked, “Are there still loyal ministers like Minister Ji in Luoyang?”
Gu Rong hesitated before answering, “All under heaven belongs to the Emperor, and all within the borders are his subjects. Why does Your Majesty worry?”
Sima Zhong didn’t believe it.
Who had shot arrows at the imperial carriage?
Who had forced him to sleep in a bean field, his stomach growling with hunger?
Who had made him charge into battle, only to be struck by three arrows?
Gu Rong knew the Emperor didn’t believe him.
Even a fool wouldn’t be fooled by such words! Fortunately, the Emperor was kind-hearted and wouldn’t hold this obvious lie against him.
“Minister Gu,” Sima Zhong called again.
“Your servant is here.”
“Do we have any cakes left?”
“No,” Gu Rong sighed.
He was hungry too.
In Wen County, some elders had brought food, but it wasn’t enough for everyone.
The Crown Prince’s aide Hu Mufu had brought some money and bought food from nearby estates, but it had run out that morning.
Now, everyone was hungry…
Sima Zhong lowered his head in disappointment.
He was hungry, his feet were blistered, he was cold, and his wounds ached.
He wished he could fly to Luoyang immediately.
Whatever happened, he needed to fill his stomach first.
In the distance, the sound of galloping horses grew louder.
Before Sima Zhong could react, Gu Rong’s expression changed drastically.
The officials and nobles accompanying them erupted in panic, their faces filled with unease.
Crown Prince Sima Ying rode forward from the rear and shouted, “Where are those cavalry from?”
“Your Highness, don’t worry. They’re coming from the ferry crossing. They must be troops from Luoyang,” Fei Li replied loudly.
Sima Ying nodded, reassured.
Fei Li, accompanied by several dozen horsemen, rode forward to intercept and question the approaching riders.
Fei Li was from Nan’an in Jianwei.
His father, Fei Shi, had served as an advisor to Zhuge Liang and later as the prefect of Baxi in the Jin dynasty.
Fei Li had entered officialdom through the recommendation system and served as the commandant of Chengdu, often by Sima Ying’s side.
He had also served as the magistrate of Chengdu and the governor of Liang, Yi, and Ning provinces before returning to Ye City.
As the hoofbeats grew louder, Fei Li grew tense.
He squinted ahead, his hand gripping his halberd.
Just then, a loud shout came from behind: “That’s my pillar of the empire, my protector! He’s wearing golden armor!”
Fei Li was stunned.
(End of Chapter)