Jinting Han people

"Gongyang Xuanzhi of Xingjin is dead?" Liu Xian was taken aback upon hearing this, and then his brows furrowed.

He recalled that during the Battle of Mangshan, enemy cavalry launched a surprise attack on the imperial camp, injuring many princes, including Yang Xuanzhi. After the battle, these princes were sent back to Luoyang to recuperate. Yang Xuanzhi seemed to have been shot in the abdomen by an arrow; such wounds could be minor or serious, and whether they would heal depended largely on luck. Given that Yang Xuanzhi was nearly fifty years old, didn't practice martial arts, and was physically weak, it was quite normal that he wouldn't survive such an ordeal.

However, his death at this time was not good news for the Changsha King's faction.

Although Yang Xuanzhi's abilities were not outstanding and his personality was rather timid, he was, after all, the current head of the Yang clan of Mount Tai, and Sima Yi's most powerful political ally besides himself. With Yang Xuanzhi around, he could use the vast network of connections of the Yang clan of Mount Tai to win over the hearts of the various high-ranking gentry, maintain the stability of the political situation in Luoyang, and ensure that Sima Yi could control the political situation in Luoyang.

With Yang Xuanzhi's death, the Yang clan is bound to undergo a new round of power transition. Who will be the next leader of the Yang clan? Will they continue to support Sima Yi? During this interim period, who should succeed Yang Xuanzhi and stabilize the political situation in Luoyang? These are all matters that require careful consideration and need to be rearranged.

Liu Xian immediately connected this incident with his earlier experience. He wondered if Yang Xuanzhi's death had caused a political upheaval in Luoyang, leading some of the gentry to harbor rebellious intentions.

This matter has far-reaching implications and requires a thorough investigation; it will be difficult to reach a conclusion in a short time. However, Liu Xian knew that his relationship with the Empress was strained and had no intention of lingering there. Having learned the details, he decided to take his leave.

Just as she was about to leave, the Empress's cold voice suddenly came from behind her. Yang Xianrong asked, "Who has come?"

Upon learning it was Liu Xian, Yang Xianrong remained silent for a moment before saying, "It's the Marshal! Is there something you need, Marshal?"

Liu Xian cupped his hands and said, "Please accept my condolences, Your Highness. I have no urgent business to attend to, so I will take my leave now."

Unexpectedly, Yang Xianrong said, "Since the Marshal has nothing to do, I am feeling troubled. Why don't you keep me company and talk to me?"

"This..." Liu Xian was somewhat taken aback. He instinctively wanted to refuse, because it was really against the rules. After all, Yang Xianrong was the Empress, and she should avoid suspicion with her subjects. Moreover, their conversation at Tingfeng Temple last time was hardly pleasant.

Yang Xianrong naturally understood his concerns, but she genuinely just wanted someone to talk to. In the past few months, Liu He and others had been killed, and her father had passed away unexpectedly; she had no familiar faces left. And life in the army was so oppressive that even in this moment of grief over her father's death, she had no one to seek comfort from.

Why would she want to confide in Liu Xian? Yang Xianrong thought, perhaps it was because this Duke of Songzi was so discreet. At least during their last late-night conversation, even though she had embarrassed Liu Xian, he hadn't revealed a single word; he was indeed a very good listener.

Therefore, she said, "Marshal, there's no need to worry. It's just a chat. It's not an unreasonable request, is it?"

Liu Xian glanced at Linghu Sheng and the others, thinking that with these people as witnesses, the situation shouldn't repeat itself. Furthermore, with Yang Xuanzhi's death, Yang Xianrong's importance had increased further, and he couldn't afford to have too much of a falling out with her. Besides, the Empress had only just turned twenty this year; it was normal for him to be more accommodating.

After considering this for a moment, Liu Xian agreed, "Alright, but I am in the army, so please forgive me if I am impolite."

After saying that, the two walked up the mountainside for several dozen steps, reaching a delicate distance where they were still within sight of others but their words could not be heard.

It was past midnight, and the waning moon hung high overhead. They stood on a barren rock protruding from the mountainside, the moonlight condensing like frost on the stone's texture, bearing the marks of time. Before these rings of age, everyone appeared young.

Yang Xianrong didn't speak immediately, but instead gazed at the vast expanse of heaven and earth. Her eyes seemed to be searching for something, but as she looked into the distance, she couldn't find what she longed for. This brought a sense of sadness and helplessness to her face. Turning to look at Liu Xian again, she asked, "Marshal, what kind of person do you think my father was?"

Upon hearing this, Liu Xian was taken aback. Although he and Yang Xuanzhi had some interactions on official business, they didn't have much personal relationship, and his understanding of Yang Xuanzhi was limited to his reputation. Therefore, he said, "I have only heard some rumors about the Duke of Xingjin. As for our relationship, I'm afraid it's not deep."

Yang Xianrong said, "That's great, Marshal, please tell me what you think."

Liu Xian said, "The Duke of Xingjin is a loyal and honest man who is conscientious in everything he does and always considers the bigger picture..."

“But I am incompetent.” Yang Xianrong smiled, leaning against the stone wall as she slowly sat down, one hand resting on her knee, the other gently stroking her hair, and said slowly:

"Why should the Marshal cover up his shame? Don't I know my father? He can't write essays like Lu Ji, nor can he fight like the Marshal. If he hadn't been born into the Yang family of Mount Tai, he would have been an unknown and ordinary person. Alas, perhaps even worse than many poor scholars in the Imperial Academy."

“I remember that before I got married, my grandfather made all the decisions in the family, and he could only listen from the sidelines. Even if he disagreed, he couldn’t even express his rebuttal clearly. Even when he was with my mother, he didn’t have any opinions of his own. His uncles and aunts were all more talented than him, and they didn’t respect him much.”

"If it weren't for me, how would he have had the chance to become a county magistrate?"

Discussing one's parents' faults as a child is not the filial piety advocated by morality, especially when both parents have just passed away. Liu Xian noticed the tremor in her voice, and turning his head, he saw that Yang Xianrong's face was as white as snow, and her slender hands, resting on her knees, were clenched into fists. She tried to suppress her emotions, but tears welled up uncontrollably in the corners of her eyes.

She continued, "I don't like my father either. When I was young, I always thought, why couldn't he be more ambitious? He has such good conditions and carries so many expectations, why couldn't he be more diligent? At the very least, he could be more assertive! He is the head of the Yang family, why couldn't he be more confident?"

"Later, when I was married into the palace, he didn't even dare to see me. I really hated him then. Why wasn't he willing to fight for his daughter's happiness? So after I entered the palace, I vowed in my heart that no matter what happened to my family in the future, I would never shed a single tear for them."

But at this point, Yang Xianrong finally broke down in tears. In Liu Xian's memory, although the Empress lacked composure, she was strong-willed and had always been a proud woman. Unexpectedly, she was now weeping, alone and forlorn under the night sky.

She should have been like a child at that moment, but as she wiped away her tears, pride kicked in, making her straighten her back. It seemed she understood that she was no longer a child.

Once she had suppressed her sobs again, she finally said to Liu Xian beside her, "I'm sorry to have made you laugh, Marshal." Liu Xian, of course, wouldn't laugh. In fact, Yang Xianrong's words had touched him, reminding him of many things from his childhood. How he had longed for his father's approval when he was young! No matter what kind of person his father was, a father was a father, and without his love, life would be incomplete. Even he himself wanted to make up for that incompleteness.

He sat down, just two feet away from Yang Xianrong, and comforted her, saying, "Your Highness is joking. There's nothing funny about it. Duke Xingjin may not be a talented person, but he is Your Highness's father, and a father who can earn his daughter's forgiveness. That's enough. I'm sure he'll be smiling with satisfaction in the afterlife."

"But why is that?" Yang Xianrong pressed. "Why is it like this?"

Although she couldn't express herself clearly, Liu Xian understood what she meant: Why can't people control their destiny and often make a mess of their lives?
Liu Xian had also pondered this topic. In fact, he had already found the answer on that night when he was twelve years old. He said, "Because this world is so vast, each of us is as insignificant as a mayfly. For a person to want happiness and fulfillment is like a mayfly trying to summon wind and rain—it's almost impossible."

"Faced with the workings of fate, we are all powerless mortals."

This statement reminded Yang Xianrong of a Buddhist scripture she had read some time ago, in which the Buddha said something similar: "All things in the world are like the burning house of samsara, drowning in the sea of ​​suffering, clinging to it through the long night, ultimately unable to change." But this inevitably raises the question: if all joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness are illusory, then why do people live?
She couldn't help but scrutinize the man before her again, for in her eyes, he was a man of both literary and martial talents, deeply loved by all. She pressed on, "Are you powerless to help either?"

“Of course, I am powerless.” Liu Xian did not hide this fact. He nodded and said, “I have had many friends die in front of me, I have seen many people who deserved their punishment to be arrogant and smug, I have killed many people I did not want to kill, and I have also missed many opportunities to save people.”

“Sometimes I think, how wonderful it would be if everything could start over. But Your Highness, you and I both know that’s impossible.”

Yang Xianrong began to understand; humans are indeed fragile and powerless. In the past, she had believed herself to be blessed with divine mandate, entitled to possess everything, but that was merely a well-intentioned joke orchestrated by everyone. Most people were only offering auspicious words out of respect for the Yang family's power; little of their sincerity was genuine. Even behind those prophecies and blessings lay malice.

The truth was so cruel that it brought her to tears, and at the same time, it ignited a sudden, inexplicable anger within her, leading to a deep-seated loathing for the world: what reason did a world that inflicted suffering have to exist? She was born with many things that others could only dream of, yet she still felt pain. She didn't understand; were people born to suffer?
When she asked the question, Liu Xian smiled, pointed to his heart, and said, "Your Highness, it all depends on your heart."

"Everyone has this question. But one cannot turn back, one can only look forward."

“My teacher, Master Ruan, taught me: The joy of life is not to dwell on the fish you lost, but to concentrate on waiting for the next one. And every fish you catch is a source of joy in life.”

"Learn to forget, Your Highness. As long as we keep looking forward and live long enough, good things will always happen. So even if millions of people in this world live miserable lives, they still keep living and wait for the day when good things come."

Liu Xian's answer was simple yet powerful: Humans are born with the love of their parents, but ultimately, they leave their parents to become parents themselves and build new families. This process involves both pain and love. But ultimately, it is through this that history is created, and the Chinese land continues to thrive.

But Liu Xian also knew that this wasn't enough to completely convince Yang Xianrong. After all, she was an empress, born in a chaotic era, and her husband was an idiot. This made her a ruler, and rulers cannot wait.

Therefore, Liu Xian decided to say more. He looked at Yang Xianrong and said solemnly, "But Your Highness is different. Even mayflies are divided into large and small. People like Your Highness still have some unique freedoms."

"Freedom?" Yang Xianrong didn't quite understand; she was still pondering Liu Xian's earlier words.

"The freedom to choose one's path." The moon had already moved westward, and the stars overhead shone even brighter, reminding Liu Xian of an unforgettable night. He hadn't spoken so much in a long time. But this wasn't a bad thing; life is always about learning and progressing through reflection.

"When one has power, one can choose two paths when faced with suffering."

"One path is to transfer pain, to join this world that creates pain. Rather than suffer yourself, inflict pain on others and find pleasure in tormenting them."

"The other path is different; it may be more difficult, but it's worth it."

"what is that?"

“Since Your Highness detests this world, then you must change it, no matter how difficult it may be.” Liu Xian stood up again, stroking the hilt of his sword. He was speaking to Yang Xianrong, but also to himself: “Your Highness, even if it is beyond your power, do not give up.”

"Of course, no matter what Your Highness chooses, I believe that the Duke of Xingjin, even in the afterlife, will be proud of you."

As he said this, Liu Xian thought of his mother once again. He knew he was walking a path that others disapproved of, even considered foolish, since everyone else was taking a different path. But if he wasn't walking this path, why had he embarked on this journey in the first place?
This is a spirit passed down from his ancestors, which many people may consider worthless. But to him, it is priceless, and he must carry it on.

Upon hearing this, Yang Xianrong gazed at the man who had once humiliated her. She was surprised to discover that this usually inflexible man also possessed such an understanding side. After hearing the news of her father's death, she had thought her heart was as cold as ice. But after hearing Liu Xian's words, she sensed an unshakeable conviction, indescribable in words. Her mind first became as clear as crystal, then flowed like a gentle stream.

Finally, her tears found an outlet, causing her to weep again. This time, she lost her pride and cried in a undignified manner. Seeing this, Linghu Sheng and the others in the distance consciously turned their backs, but Liu Xian did not turn around. He knew that after this night, her life would be completely different.

After the crying stopped, Liu Xian said to Yang Xianrong, "Your Highness, please rest early. If Duke Xingjin were here, he would certainly hope that you would not harm your health."

As he left, the mountain wind suddenly turned fierce, the torches in the military camp flickered, and the trees howled like terrifying ghosts. Liu Xian was used to this; he walked steadily, his mind still on espionage and the decisive battle.

Death has become all too common; no matter how heartfelt people's words of comfort, they are ultimately insignificant. As the commander-in-chief, his true responsibility is to end this chaotic world as soon as possible. (End of Chapter)