Rise of a Lonely City: From Exiled Prince to Ruler of the Nine Provinces

Under the protection of the Prince of Jingbei's "benevolent rule," the smoke from the chimneys of Shenjing is rising again with difficulty. Although thin, it symbolizes that this imperial capital has not died completely, but is beginning to slowly breathe and heal under a new and powerful order.

Meanwhile, thousands of miles away on the Guanzhong Plain, Chang'an, the "Western Capital," shrouded in a biting cold wind, was enveloped in a completely different, eerie atmosphere—a mixture of gloom, panic, and desperate gamble.

Zhao Chong's "Western Tour" was less of an imperial procession and more of a complete and utter rout.

Along the way, they abandoned their armor and weapons, and the air was thick with fear. Driven by terror, the thousands of people fled in panic like a flock of startled birds into Tongguan, the ancient capital where they had placed their last hope.

However, the welcome they received in Chang'an was far from the "food and drink to welcome the king's army" they had imagined.

Chang'an, as the western capital of the Liang Dynasty, did indeed have a glorious past.

However, since the capital was moved east to Shenjing, this place has long lost its former prosperity.

Although the city walls remain tall and sturdy, the palaces within have fallen into disrepair, the treasury is empty, the garrison is weak, and the people are suffering.

Moreover, the Guanzhong region has not been a peaceful land in recent years, with frequent famines and banditry.

The arrival of Zhao Chong and his entourage brought not "the majesty of the emperor," but thousands of mouths to feed, the terrible news of the fall of the capital and the rising power of the rebel army, and a sense of impending doom.

The officials, generals, and even ordinary people of Chang'an, looking at this distraught "court" army that resembled stray dogs, felt little excitement of loyalty to the emperor and patriotism. Instead, they felt more doubt, unease, and even a hidden resentment—how could Chang'an, this "small temple," afford to house this "great Buddha" who had fled from disaster? And how many days could it protect them?

The young emperor Xiao Yan, who was forcibly "helped" down from the imperial carriage, was already beyond recognition from the days of jolting and fright. His face was ashen, his eyes were dull, and he could only instinctively grab the hem of the eunuch's clothes and tremble.

Xiao Jue was in no better shape. His former majesty as the Crown Prince had vanished, leaving only a face full of panic and exhaustion, as well as a growing fear of Zhao Chong that he dared not express.

Zhao Chong's own condition was even worse.

The days of running around, the fear, and the deep-seated sense of failure and resentment that he could not shake off completely broke down this once powerful old man.

He was no longer the powerful Duke of Zhao who commanded respect in the imperial court of Shenjing, but a frail old man huddled in a carriage, needing assistance to walk, coughing incessantly, his eyes sunken, only the occasional glint of a venomous snake in his eyes could prove his undying, insane lust for power.

"Chang'an... Chang'an..."

Lying on the makeshift, cold, and dilapidated bed in the former Sui Dynasty palace, Zhao Chong coughed violently, his phlegm streaked with blood, his voice hoarse like a broken bellows, "We must...we must immediately...restore his title! Reclaim his throne!"

He struggled, gripping the sleeve of his trusted advisor by the bedside with his withered, bony hands, his eyes filled with the madness of a dying beast: "The capital has fallen... The traitor Xiao Chen has seized the city, and he will surely... surely use this to his advantage, to slander the court and win over the people... We cannot sit idly by and wait for our doom! We must tell the world that the Great Liang still exists! The legitimate dynasty still exists! His Majesty... His Majesty is here!"

The strategist looked troubled and said in a low voice, "Your Excellency, while that is true, we are currently outnumbered and isolated, trapped in Chang'an with only a little over ten thousand soldiers. Our supplies are running low, we are threatened by the Tongguan Pass to the outside, and we have no strong reinforcements to rely on from within... Most of the feudal lords in the world are watching from the sidelines, and the Wu and Chu factions are particularly treacherous... If we were to establish a court now, I'm afraid..."

"What do you know!"

Zhao Chong abruptly interrupted him, his chest heaving and his eyes bloodshot. "It is precisely because we are outnumbered and outmatched that we must raise our banner! If the name is not right, the words will not be proper, and if the words are not proper, nothing will be accomplished! The traitor Xiao Chen may occupy the capital, but can he occupy the righteous cause? He is a vassal king, a subject!"

His uprising is rebellion! As long as there is an emperor and a court here, Xiao Chen will forever be a traitor, a rebellious minister! Loyal and righteous men will still have someone to serve and hope to defend the emperor!

He gasped for breath and continued, his voice ghostly: "Xiao Jie... that good-for-nothing Xiao Jie has been scared out of his wits, he has no bearing of a ruler whatsoever! If he sits in that position, the world will only look down on us! He's no good... he's no good..."

A cruel glint of calculation flashed in his eyes. "Doesn't he have an older brother? Depose Xiao Yan and install Xiao Yu as emperor!"

The strategist gasped, "Duke! To depose and install the emperor is... this is an unforgivable crime..."

A hint of mockery and madness flashed in his eyes. "At this point, what crime is there to speak of? Are we to wait for Xiao Chen to attack and slaughter us like stray dogs, or are we to fight to the death and perhaps there is still a glimmer of hope? Dethrone! Dethrone him! Install Xiao Yu!"

Then...then immediately in the name of the new emperor, an edict was issued, proclaiming to the world that Xiao Chen had murdered the emperor and usurped the throne, and calling on all loyal ministers and righteous men to gather in Chang'an to jointly punish the traitor!

At the same time, envoys were dispatched with lavish gifts to the Kings of Wu, Chu, and Shu… to all the feudal lords they could contact, seeking aid, offering official titles and promises. They said that as long as Chang'an and their banner could be preserved, any conditions were negotiable!

The strategist was shocked by the reckless madness and naked commerce in Zhao Chong's eyes, and also knew that this might be the only possible struggle in a desperate situation.

He paused for a moment, then nodded with difficulty: "Your subordinate... will make the arrangements immediately. However, this matter requires... requires someone's approval before it can be carried out."

"rest assured……"

Zhao Chong closed his eyes, as if using his last bit of strength, "In Chang'an, there are still some... fools who can't bear to give up their wealth and status, yet fear Xiao Chen's retribution... Give them a little taste of sweetness, and they'll know what to do..."

An absurd and tragic farce, brewing in dire straits, hastily unfolded in the ancient palace of Chang'an.

A few days later, a tightly controlled "court assembly" with few participants was held in the main hall of this temporary palace. The attendees included Zhao Chong and a few of his close confidants, as well as some local officials from Chang'an who had been coerced and bribed to attend.

The young emperor Xiao Jie was forcibly carried to the throne, while Crown Prince Xiao Jue stood to the side, his face pale and his whole body trembling.

Supported by two eunuchs, Zhao Chong stood up with difficulty and, with all his might, read aloud in a hoarse voice a prepared edict that fabricated countless charges against him.

In the imperial edict, Xiao Yan was described as a "weak and incompetent ruler who was misled by treacherous officials, lost virtue to Heaven, and caused the capital to fall and the ancestral temples to be tarnished." The conclusion was that "Heaven's mandate did not protect him, the people's hearts were lost, and he was unfit to be the ruler of the world." Therefore, "in accordance with the will of Heaven and the people's hearts, he was deposed as the Duke of Hunde and moved to a separate residence."

As for Crown Prince Xiao Jue, he was vaguely dismissed on the grounds that he was "unfit for the position of heir apparent" due to "poor upbringing".

Throughout the entire process, Xiao Jie simply shed tears silently, without even the strength to defend himself.

Inside the main hall, only Zhao Chong's hoarse voice echoed, along with a few weak and feeble echoes.

The abdication ceremony ended hastily, and Xiao Yan and Xiao Jue were dragged away roughly by the eunuchs like two pieces of discarded trash, and placed under house arrest in the most remote and coldest courtyard of the palace, where no one cared about them.

Immediately afterwards, another, even more rudimentary "ceremony" was held.

Former Crown Prince Xiao Yu was dressed in a hastily tailored, ill-fitting dragon robe and placed on the cold throne. Zhao Chong led the sparse "ministers" with varying expressions, kneeling and kowtowing three times and shouting "Long live the Emperor!"

A standard, hasty coup ceremony for a pseudo-emperor, filled with intrigue and coercion, came to an absurd end in the desolate and fearful ancient capital of Chang'an.

The "new emperor" Xiao Yu was honored as the "Emperor of the Great Liang" and changed the era name to "Zhongxing"—a name that seemed particularly glaring and ridiculous in the face of adversity.

Zhao Chong, who orchestrated this farcical deposition and enthronement, was naturally and "as expected" granted the titles of "Grand Tutor, Grand Secretary, and Commander-in-Chief of Military Affairs," thus gaining control of all military and political power and becoming the de facto ruler of this small, exiled court huddled in Chang'an.

Before the fireworks of the coronation had even faded, edicts and proclamations issued in the name of the "Emperor of the Restoration of the Great Liang" began to fly out of Chang'an, the "temporary capital."

The imperial edict denounced Xiao Chen, the Prince of Jingbei, who occupied the capital, as the "number one traitor in the world" who "deceived Heaven and the emperor, murdered the emperor and usurped power, disrupted the court and poisoned the lives of the people." It claimed that he had kidnapped the deposed emperor Xiao Jie, seized the capital, and acted perversely.

"I" (Xiao Yu), "in accordance with the Mandate of Heaven and the will of the people," and with the assistance of "loyal ministers," "re-established the legitimate dynasty of Liang" in Chang'an, calling upon "loyal ministers and righteous men throughout the land, and regional military governors, to quickly raise troops to defend the emperor, gather in Chang'an, and jointly punish the traitor Xiao Chen, to cleanse the court of corrupt officials and secure the nation!"

Meanwhile, Zhao Chong sent envoys, carrying lavish gifts and empty promises of official positions, to secretly travel south to Wu, Chu, Shu, and other places. They attempted to persuade and collude with these still powerful southern lords, hoping that they would send troops to help Xiao Chen out of consideration for the "if the lips are gone, the teeth will be cold" principle or because of the promised huge benefits, or at least to tie down Xiao Chen's forces.

When the news spread, the world was in an uproar.

Although it was expected that Zhao Chong would not sit idly by and wait for his death, his swift and decisive act of deposing the young emperor and installing a new one under the banner of "continuing the orthodoxy of the Great Liang" still exceeded many people's expectations.

This undoubtedly places him in a position of irreconcilable conflict with Xiao Chen, and also means that in the future chess game of the world, the struggle for "orthodoxy" will be even more naked and intense.

"That old scoundrel Zhao Chong has finally resorted to desperate measures!"

In the temporary marshal's mansion in Shenjing, Han Lie slammed a secret report from Chang'an onto the table, sneering repeatedly, "Deposing the eldest son in favor of the younger, claiming legitimacy—it's utterly ridiculous! That brat Xiao Yu is nothing but a puppet in his hands!"

Chen Dao frowned and said, "Although it's a farce, this move is extremely vicious. In this way, Zhao Chong will occupy the title of 'upholding the orthodoxy of the Great Liang.' Even though he is in dire straits, he can still command all directions in the name of the emperor. At least, it gives those who still yearn for the old dynasty or have doubts about the prince an excuse and a target for loyalty. The attitudes of powerful southern vassal states such as Wu and Chu will probably become even more ambiguous."

"It's alright."

Han Lie's eyes flashed with a cold light. "Your Highness had anticipated this. The more Zhao Chong acts this way, the more it proves that he is at his wit's end, all bark and no bite. His escape to the west with the young emperor has already alienated the people, and now he is deposing and installing a fake emperor, further isolating himself from the world and proving his treachery!"

He thinks he can prolong his life by waving the banner of "legitimacy"? What a joke! In the end, it is strength that decides everything!

The king is bringing peace and stability to the capital, while he is seizing power in Chang'an; the king is restoring order, while he is merely clinging to life. The people of the world are not blind, nor are they fools!

He stood up, walked to the huge map hanging in the sky, and tapped his finger heavily on the location of Chang'an: "Besides, does he think that by hiding in Chang'an and having the defense of Tongguan Pass, he can rest easy? Hmph, Guanzhong is exhausted, the people are scattered, and how long can a mere tens of thousands of defeated soldiers hold out? As for the southern lords..."

Han Lie's lips curled into a mocking smile. "The Wu and Chu people are all scheming and have their own agendas. Why would they fight to the death with my mighty army from the north for Zhao Chong, a ship that is destined to sink? At most, they will just play along and watch the outcome unfold."

"Then we..." Chen asked.

"Act according to the prince's established strategy."

Han Lie declared resolutely, "Continue to stabilize the capital, restore order, and accumulate strength. Publicize the perverse and absurd actions of the Chang'an puppet dynasty, along with Zhao Chong's crimes of burning the capital and abandoning its people, and issue proclamations throughout the land! Let the world see who the real traitors are, who is bringing disaster to the country, and who is bringing peace to the people! At the same time, strengthen our military preparedness. When Your Majesty arrives in the capital, it will be time to sweep away the puppet dynasty of Chang'an and completely crush it!"

"As for that so-called 'Emperor of Restoration'..."

A cold glint of disdain flashed in Han Lie's eyes. "He's nothing but a pathetic child manipulated by treacherous officials. The day our army breaches Chang'an will be the day this farce of a false emperor comes to a complete end!"

The farce of the false emperor in Chang'an was like a clumsy and desperate puppet show performed on the edge of a cliff. Although it attracted the attention of the world, anyone with discerning eyes could see the weakness and madness behind it.

Meanwhile, the restoration of order and the gradual recovery of vitality in Shenjing are silently accumulating an even stronger and more substantial power.

The two capitals, one clinging to life and proclaiming its "legitimacy," and the other steadily advancing and demonstrating its "strength," stood in a standoff. However, the true balance of power had already quietly shifted when the people of the capital received their share of hot porridge and when the absurd coronation ceremony of the pseudo-emperor in Chang'an took place.

However, Zhao Chong and the "emperor" he surrounded in Chang'an City remained immersed in the illusion of "legitimacy," unwilling to wake up, or rather, afraid to wake up.

The sword called "Frost Abyss," which hung high above their heads, was being slowly polished by the silent king of the North, its cold light growing ever stronger.