"All that remained was surrender-and the bitter taste of pride the mud could never wash away."
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The world was silver with mist, cold as the blade pressed to Li Xian's palm. Beneath the lowering sky, two armies faced each other across scarred, muddy plains-the battered banners of Yan drooping against the breeze, the Liang host a dark, unbroken line of iron and red stretching like a wound beneath the watchful gaze of Zhao Wei.
Li Xian inhaled the sharp morning air, sweat stinging his eyes, armor chafing raw at his shoulders. Every muscle remembered a sleepless night and the weight of his command. He glanced down the ranks-men and boys, friends since childhood or since last week, all looking to him, the prince, for hope he barely believed in. His father's crown was at stake, his mother's silent prayers a leaden weight behind his ribs.
Somewhere to his left, Han Shen-the closest thing to a brother war had left him-gripped his sword in white-knuckled silence, eyes scanning the horizon. Li Xian knew what Han Shen saw: tired soldiers, ragged armor, the deep dread pooling at their feet even before the blood could.
Across the darkening field, the enemy assembled in terrifying order. Imperial pennants snapped like the jaws of wolves. At their head, Emperor Zhao Wei sat astride a black charger, face unreadable, sword sheathed in patience. His officers formed a silent phalanx behind him-General Han Yu, the Empress Dowager's son, even the cunning advisor Fang Xu, faces carefully void of mercy.
A drumbeat thundered, vibrating in Li Xian's chest. The first ranks of Liang advanced, shields glinting, pikes lowered as one, the earth trembling beneath a thousand disciplined feet. The Yan archers tensed at his command, notching arrows, breathing as a single desperate animal.
Li Xian raised his sword-an old steel thing, heavy with the memory of promise-and the archers loosed, a dark volley rising against the light. Arrows hissed, swords clashed, the desperate cry of dying men broke the dawn open. Zhao Wei's cavalry thundered in, spears poised, splitting the line with cold efficiency.
Mud, blood, and iron swallowed the world. Li Xian darted forward, cutting through a mesh of friend and enemy, his vision tunneling to narrow bursts-Han Shen shouting orders, the flash of Zhao Wei's banners to his right, the stench of churned earth and opening wounds. For each step Yan gained, Liang pressed them back two more. Bodies fell. The prince's armor grew slick and heavy. He bellowed for the line to hold, rallying around the battered banner, but the momentum had shifted. Too many men. Too long a winter. Too much loss already.
Every sense blurred: the taste of iron, the grit in his teeth, the screams too close-his own voice among them.
The sun climbed painfully over the smoke. By midday, the killing slowed. The ground between the two armies-once nothing but spring grass-was blackened, mute, thick with broken men. Li Xian's sword wavered. Men were collapsing beside him, begging the gods, whispering their mothers' names.
And then came the horn: Liang's signal of victory-a single, arrogant note rising over the carnage as the Yan standard fell at last.
Li Xian staggered, blade slack in his grip. The field had been lost long before the sun crested the city walls.
All that remained was surrender-and the bitter taste of pride the mud could never wash away.
----------
Night had fallen heavy on the Yan Palace. The air was still thick with the smoke and cries that had drifted from the battlefield, though the fighting had ended hours ago.
Every corridor echoed with hushed whispers - servants slipping between columns like ghosts, guards watching the gates with hollow eyes. Beyond the carved doors of the royal chambers, worry ruled more fiercely than any sword.
King Li Zhen stood near the tall window, the faint orange hue of distant fires reflecting in his eyes. His armor was half removed, streaked with soot and dried blood that he had not noticed yet. Outside, the banners of Yan hung limp, wet with dew and shame. Somewhere beyond those walls, their son - Li Xian - was a captive of the victorious Emperor of Liang. The thought pressed down on every breath the king took.
Behind him, Queen Lin Mei sat beside the low brazier, her slender hands wrapped around a cold cup of tea gone untouched. Her face was pale in the wavering lamplight, eyes following the dust motes that danced above the flame. For hours, she had spoken to no one. Only now, when the last messenger confirmed that Liang's army had entered the outskirts of Yan, did she break the silence.
Lin Mei: "What will he do to our son, Li Zhen? What will become of us now that Liang's Emperor holds him in his grasp?"
Li Zhen turned slowly, his shoulders tense.
Li Zhen: "I don't know... If Zhao Wei's pride is half as fierce as his father's once was, he could very well destroy everything we built."
The name lingered in the air - Zhao Wei - its sound carrying an old, haunting familiarity.
Queen Lin Mei frowned thoughtfully and murmured:Lin Mei: "Zhao... Wei."
She paused, searching memory. "That name... it cannot be a coincidence. I've heard it before, long ago, when we still exchanged letters and gifts with Liang. Could it be...?"
Li Zhen's expression shifted - surprise, then dawning realization.
Li Zhen: "Yes. His father. Zhao Jian. The Emperor we once called brother."
A silence fell. For a heartbeat, even the crackle of the brazier seemed to fade. They could almost see that old friend again - Zhao Jian with his easy smile and the promise of alliance, before that violent rebellion tore everything from him.
Lin Mei: "So... he is the lost prince. The boy we failed to save."
Her voice trembled at the memory. The years had dimmed much, but not the sight of the desperate request that never reached them in time.
Li Zhen: "We tried, Mei. You remember? We sent riders after the siege was broken - but by the time they reached Liang's borders, the cities were ash and the courtiers butchered. We thought they all had died."
She looked at him then, not with accusation, but weariness.
Lin Mei: "Perhaps he knows the truth... perhaps not. Still, even if he remembers our friendship - if that boy has his father's heart - he would not spill innocent blood in vengeance."
Li Zhen: "May the heavens make it so."
He exhaled, resting both hands on the carved table, voice softer: "If mercy remains in him, maybe Zhao Wei will show it... at least for Li Xian's sake."
Lin Mei's gaze drifted toward the window, where the night wind pressed faintly against the curtains.
Lin Mei: "I pray you are right. But some wounds of the past... they fester too deep to forgive."
The king rubbed his tired eyes, leaning back as if the weight of history itself pressed on his spine. For the first time in hours, her words brought a small, fragile relief - the hope that perhaps this young Emperor was not merely their enemy, but the child of a man who once called them friend.
Then came the sound of hurried footsteps - a servant, dusty and breathless, kneeling just inside the threshold.
Messenger: "Your Majesties! A message from the Liang encampment. His Majesty, Emperor Zhao Wei of Liang, summons King Li Zhen and Queen Lin Mei to appear before him at the great court tomorrow. Both dynasties will be present."
The king's brows drew together. The queen's hand tightened reflexively on the rim of her cup.
For a long, tense moment, neither spoke.
Finally, Li Zhen nodded slowly.
Li Zhen: "Tell your Emperor we will come."
The messenger bowed deeply and withdrew.
Silence expanded in his wake. The queen touched her husband's arm.
Lin Mei: "He calls us-not for war, but for words. Perhaps my fears were wrong."
Li Zhen: "Or perhaps his vengeance needs a stage."
Her lips trembled, but she forced a faint smile.
Lin Mei: "Then we face him as sovereigns. And parents."
Li Zhen turned again toward the window. Far away, the horizon smoldered - the dying glow of fires from the battlefield, painting the clouds a muted red.
Li Zhen: "At dawn, we will know whether the son of Zhao Jian is still a friend... or has become the executioner of Yan."
The braziers hissed softly as the wind slipped beneath the door, snuffing one of the candles. The room fell darker, heavier, as if holding its breath for what tomorrow would bring.
----------
The grand hall was transformed into a chamber of judgment. Sunlight spilled through narrow windows, glinting off the gilded armor of Liang's officers and the faded, war-dulled robes of Yan's defeated court. Noble families, ministers, and generals were arranged in tense rows-Yan's on the left, faces ashen and tense, Liang's on the right, triumphant and expectant.
At the center, Li Xian knelt, wrists raw from chains just removed, posture proud in spite of exhaustion. King Li Zhen and Queen Lin Mei watched their son with silent anguish, barely breathing.
On the highest seat, Emperor Zhao Wei presided-sharp in black and red, his calm posture belying the resolve beneath. Around him clustered his close officials: the loyal General Han Yu, clever Fang Xu, and Minister Gao Ren, eyes glinting with satisfaction.
A Liang stepped forward, voice ringing:Herald: "The bloodshed is over. By decree of His Imperial Majesty, peace may be achieved on new terms."
A hush fell as Emperor Zhao Wei rose. He regarded King Li Zhen and Queen Lin Mei with a cool nod, but when his gaze swept Li Xian, it lingered, heavy with unsaid challenge.
Zhao Wei: "Yan is vanquished. I tire of war-but a kingdom must be shown its place. The old ways, the old friendships, could not protect you. Today, a new alliance may-if pride is laid aside."
He beckoned his guards; Li Xian's chains fell with a dull clatter. The prince staggered and regained his composure, refusing to bow even now.
Zhao Wei: "Let this end not in slaughter, but in union."
He looked to King Li Zhen, voice cold but formal.
"Let your son become my consort-marry me, and I will spare Yan and its people. If you refuse, you invite your own destruction."
Gasps and mutters crackled through the hall. Some Liang officials smirked.
Gao Ren (whispers): "A clever prize-politics, mercy, and humiliation at once."
Yan's courtiers murmured, hearts pounding. Li Xian rose shakily to his feet, fury igniting in his eyes.
Li Xian (shouts): "You call yourself victor, yet you treat peace as a collar and a weapon! I will not be bought off. You will find no joy in chaining me-no Yan prince will ever belong to the son of a usurper!"
Stunned silence gripped the room. King Li Zhen tried to rise, but Queen Lin Mei gripped his arm-knowing too well that defiance risked annihilation, but also admiring their son's bravery.
Zhao Wei's jaw tightened. He raised a single hand, halting all voices but his own.
Zhao Wei: "Very well. If honor means so little to you, perhaps pain will teach wisdom."
Li Xian turned sharply, robes swirling, and strode out-his rage and disgrace cutting through the room like a blade. Guards parted, letting him go, the echo of his steps setting off a flurry of whispers:Liang Officer: "So proud, the prince. Yet pride falls fastest under the emperor's shadow."
Yan ministers bowed their heads, despair passing from face to face.
King Li Zhen, unable to speak, squeezed Queen Lin Mei's hand, silent tears shining in her eyes.
Zhao Wei settled back on his throne, expression unreadable, but his officials leaned in, eager to press their advantage.
The court erupted-debate, pity, mockery. On the Yan side, shame and fear. On the Liang side, smug triumph, confidence that their emperor had seized not just territory, but the spirit of their rival.And above all, in the hush after Li Xian's exit, Zhao Wei's command resounded-absolute, like fate itself.
----------
The chamber was dim, lit only by flickering braziers that cast wavering shadows on jade-green silk tapestries. Behind the imposing black lacquered throne, Emperor Zhao Wei stood rigid, his gaze thunderous as he listened to his closest advisors.
General Han Yu stepped forward, voice low but sharp
"Your Majesty, the matter stands as clear as the morning sun. The boy prince of Yan has not only defied you, but dishonored the throne before all assembled. Such insolence demands swift redress."
Minister Gao Ren's eyes burned with ambition as he added,"The shame runs deep. To reject your offer publicly, your highness-how can we not call this a personal affront? Yan's insult is a blow to Liang's honor, one our swords must answer. Call armies from our allies; let the fields run red once more."
Zhao Wei's fists clenched, but he spoke with measured calm.
"And if I order our armies to raze Yan to its foundations-burn every last village-what then?"
A silence fell. The courtiers exchanged uneasy looks. Han Yu broke it cautiously:
"The kingdom would be scorched, tributaries shattered, but Liang's might would be unquestioned."
Zhao Wei paced slow, deliberate steps."And the inevitable aftermath? The sons of Yan will rise as martyrs. Their heads, even pierced by blades, will stand higher than our banners. Their sacrifice will immortalize their pride in death."
A younger minister ventured,"Then should we forgive this insult, Sire? Allow it to fester without a response?"
Zhao Wei's glare snapped to him.
"Forgiveness is a luxury the ruler cannot afford. I will respond-not with reckless war, but with calculated resolve."
He looked skyward as if drawing strength from the heavens.
"Marriage."
His council gasped. Minister Gao Ren blinked.
"Your Highness, marriage? Surely you jest?"Zhao Wei's voice tightened.
"I have heard whispers of Yan's unbroken customs. Their son, my betrothed by ancient promise, remains the key. Their guilt, their punishment, carried through this union."
He lowered himself ceremoniously onto the throne.
"They will bring their son forward-not bound by chains, but heralded as prince. A son who will wear this crown beside me, yet bow to none of their pride."
He fixed the room with a cold smile:
"And I will shatter that pride, piece by piece."
General Han Yu Gao Ren exchanged knowing smirks.
"A punishment both sharp and subtle, sire. The eagle cages its rival with feathers."
"The kingdom folds on the altar of our alliance," whispered another, lips curling.
Zhao Wei's cold eyes gleamed in the brazier's glow,"Let Yan bring their son. We wait. And when the marriage is sealed, the dynasty will be reborn under my hand."
The shadows in the chamber seemed to deepen - not with fear, but with a ruthless certainty.
----------
The night was thick and dark, with no moon to pierce the sky-only distant stars flickering faintly, indifferent witnesses to the turmoil within the palace walls. Li Xian stood by the wide lattice window, his broad shoulders tense, eyes fixed on the cold, unyielding sky. The city below was quiet, but his mind roared with echoes of the battlefield.
He remembered the endless hours of preparation, the weight of command pressing heavy upon him.
How fiercely he had rallied his troops-his brothers in arms-urging them to hold the line against the overwhelming forces of Liang. In the thick mud and blood, he had shouted orders, taken blows, and led charges that bought breaths for his men. Yet even his valor was not enough.
The tide of war was cruel, and the soils of Yan ran thick with sacrifice.
A shiver coursed through him, but still, despair tightened its grip.In the lonely dark, a flash of memory seized him-his mother's voice, soft but insistent:"Xian... Xian..."
Her hand reached out in gentle pleading, but he recoiled, pain blooming fresh inside his chest.
"I have always listened to you, Father," he said bitterly, voice breaking. "How could you do this to me? Father is the king of Yan-he must serve his kingdom. But you... you were supposed to be my mother."
His breath hitched. A single tear traced a path down his cheek."How could you do this?" he repeated, voice trembling with hurt.
His mother met his gaze, eyes heavy but firm.
"I am your mother, dear," she said quietly. "That is why I am also your culprit. But I am your father's wife-and a queen. I must support him in his duty."
Li Xian's voice sharpened with accusation.
"Tell me, Mother, how am I at fault? What wrong have you done?"
Her queenly demeanor surfaced, voice growing stronger:
"This is not about what I desire, nor about what you want. It is about what Yan needs now, Xian."
She stepped closer, eyes locked into his with unyielding resolve.
"A king's promise must be kept. If your father loses the trust of his people, so too shall Yan fall."
Li Xian faltered, struck by truth mingled with anguish.
"The question is this, my son: will your father ever hold his head high again if you refuse? Only you can protect his pride... and the kingdom."
She turned to leave but paused, hand briefly touching his.
"They are waiting for you in the next room. Their patience wears thin. You must go and accept your fate."
Alone once more, Li Xian stared out at the inky night.He spoke to the stars, voice raw and desperate:
"How can God allow this? I have never wronged anyone. I wanted only peace. But my marriage-promised to an enemy emperor-and yet no one stands for me. How?"
As a single tear fell again, he was startled by approaching footsteps.
His father entered silently, grief and determination etched deeply upon his face.
"Xian," King Li Zhen said softly, "I believe I have found a solution to your troubles."
Li Xian met his gaze, wary but attentive.
"Run away," the king urged quietly.
"Run, save your life, your honor."
Queen Lin Mei's eyes widened in shock, silent pleas shining within.
The king's voice hardened.
"Your self-respect remains yours alone-but the kingdom will perish without you. Thousands will die by sword and despair. Many will be executed, others will choose death. All because the emperor cannot tolerate the insult."
Li Xian opened his lips to protest, but his father stopped him.
"There will be war soon enough," Li Zhen said, voice softening.
"But my soldiers-and I-would gladly give our lives to save you from marrying that man."
He took a deep breath.
"I arranged the match, yes. But know this: Emperor Zhao Wei has never insulted you personally. This is our ancient custom. He wishes to make you his husband, grant you princely stature."
"Marry him, and you bring peace not just to Yan, but between our peoples.
"Li Xian's eyes flared, disbelief and fury mingling.
"How can I marry a man? You know I hate him. I wished to see him dead on the battlefield.
"Li Zhen's hand gently closed over Xian's.
"Perhaps in time, love will grow."He sighed, "Destiny chooses its warriors. Perhaps you are the one to spark change, to forge a new future."
Li Xian shook his head, bitter.
"Love? I only see hatred. I am the one who wished him beheaded."
Li Zhen's hand closed over his son's:
"Refuse, and watch thousands die. Choose marriage and save our people."
His voice broke slightly.
"My heart will break-whether I lose my son or my kingdom."
He released Li Xian's hand and turned, leaving the prince alone with heartbreak and impossible choice.
Queen Lin Mei approached, gentle as a whispered prayer.Queen Lin Mei: "I know what your answer will be, my son."
Li Xian met her gaze, tears falling freely now, and he clung to her, tangled in love, duty, and despair-the weight of a kingdom upon his very soul.
----------
The soft glow of dawn crept through the embroidered curtains of the Li royal chamber. Queen Lin Mei sat beside King Li Zhen at a low table, their faces etched with the lines of sleepless worry and royal burdens. Between them lay cups of cold tea and hastily folded scrolls-urgent news from the morning's court.
Lin Mei's fingers brushed over the aged fabric of her husband's sleeve before she spoke softly.
Queen Lin Mei: "Xian has chosen. Despite all the pain, he will accept the marriage. For the sake of Yan, he will keep our people safe."
Li Zhen inclined his head heavily, matching her solemn resolve.
King Li Zhen: "Then the path is clear. We must signal our acceptance, and prepare for the ceremonies to come."
Their eyes met, a silent acknowledgment of the sacrifice ahead.
Without another word, the king rose and summoned a trusted courtier, the swift-footed messenger known for his discretion and unerring loyalty.
King Li Zhen:
"Wei Feng, go at once. Bear my word to Emperor Zhao Wei: Yan consents to the union. Send this message to the Liang court with haste-there must be no delay."
The messenger bowed deeply.
Wei Feng: "I will ride through the dawn's light, my lord. The wedding procession shall be prepared."
With swift steps, Wei Feng vanished into the palace corridors, the weight of the future carried in his stride.
The king and queen remained, sharing a fleeting moment of quiet-a fragile calm shadowed by the storm that awaited their son.
-----------
The grand audience hall of Liang was bathed in pale morning light filtering through tall, latticed windows. The court was gathered-officers, ministers, and Zhao Wei himself, seated upon his throne, the embodiment of regal authority.
Near the center, a young but steady voice rose as one of Li Xian's closest advisors unfolded a silk scroll, sealed with Yan's emblem. All eyes turned as he began reading:
"Your Highness, what happened in the past was unfortunate. We have no intention of insulting His Highness or the people of Liang's kingdom in any way. The incident was just the result of a moment of weakness on Prince Li Xian's side, and he did not intend to insult His Highness of the Liang Dynasty. We hope that you can forget about this unfortunate incident. We await the arrival of the wedding party."
A hush fell over the court, tension thick as incense smoke.
Zhao Wei's lips curved upward in a slow, knowing smirk-one that held all the promises of a victor.
Zhao Wei (softly, eyes gleaming): "Exactly as I hoped. King Li Zhen is finally ready to surrender his pride-and his joy-to me."
He rose with measured steps, a dark shadow commanding the room.
"And as a result, the whole Yan kingdom will be under my rule."
The court held its breath as his gaze swept over his ministers, victorious and cold.
The scene cut away-the silent promise of dominion sealed with a smile that did not reach his eyes.
----------
The room was cloaked in shadows, lit only by the flickering flame of a small bronze lantern. The heavy wooden doors were closed, muffling the distant murmurs of the palace. Li Xian sat silently on a low bench, staring out a narrow window where the first light of dawn crept hesitantly across the sky. His eyes were distant, weighed with the suffocating burden of impossible choices.
Behind him, footsteps approached softly-the familiar cadence of someone who had been by his side since childhood."Xian..."
The voice was low, hesitant, thick with guilt and regret.
Li Xian's close friend and bodyguard stepped fully inside, bowing his head with shame.
"Will you forgive me, Xian? I share just as much fault as the others do, because even as your bodyguard, I couldn't save you. I'm such a loser-no courage to stand against the king's orders. I've been a bad friend, truly. I'm sorry."
His voice cracked, emotion breaking through years of trained stoicism.
Li Xian said nothing, only kept his gaze fixed elsewhere, absorbing the weight of the words.
The bodyguard swallowed hard before continuing.
"But Xian, I know what's happening isn't right. But still, our hands are tied. Nothing can be done now to save you. There's no other option."
Li Xian turned sharply, voice dropping to a siren whisper.
"Yes, there is another way."
He paused, meeting his friend's confused stare.
"I know I cannot refuse to marry the emperor. But the emperor can refuse to marry me."
His friend stepped closer, incredulous.
"What do you mean?"
Li Xian's eyes narrowed.
"I think I've found a way the emperor might refuse to marry me."
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- End of Chapter 1 -