My brothers are all warriors capable of taking on ten thousand men; I'll roam freely in the Thr

In the autumn of the tenth year of Qianwu (210 AD), in Luoyang, at the imperial palace.

The autumn rain fell softly, like silk threads, pattering on the glazed tiles and making a delicate, pattering sound.

Ji Xuanyuan sat in the imperial study, a memorial he had just finished reviewing laid out in front of him. He rubbed his sore eyes, picked up his teacup, and took a small sip.

The tea had gone cold. He frowned and put it down.

In the nine years since he ascended the throne, he has hardly had a day of leisure.

He personally oversaw every single matter, from the northern expedition against the Xiongnu, to the western pacification of the Western Regions, to the southern reconquest of the Yizhou, and the internal reforms. He dared not, and could not, relinquish power.

Those powerful and influential families were eyeing them covetously, and those old officials and new nobles each had their own agendas. If one was not careful, they would be doomed.

"His Majesty!"

The eunuch rushed in, his face pale: "Lord Lu...Lord Lu is gone!"

The teacup in Ji Xuanyuan's hand fell to the ground with a "crack" and shattered into several pieces.

He abruptly stood up, staggered a step, grabbed the table for support, and asked in a hoarse voice, "What did you say?"

The eunuch knelt on the ground, his voice trembling, and said, "Lord Lu...Lord Lu passed away at home this morning at Chenshi (7-9 AM)..."

Ji Xuanyuan felt a sudden darkness before his eyes and a ringing in his ears.

He took a deep breath, steadied himself, and strode out.

"Prepare the car! We're heading to the Lu residence!"

The main hall of the Lu residence.

The mourning hall has been set up, white banners are hanging low, and the sound of weeping can be heard faintly.

Lu Zhi's body lay in the center of the main hall, his face serene, as if he were simply asleep.

Ji Xuanyuan rushed into the mourning hall, knelt before the bed, grasped Lu Zhi's cold hand, and his eyes reddened.

"Lord Lu...Lord Lu..." His voice was hoarse and choked with sobs.

Behind him, Li Cunxiao knelt on the ground, his face pale and tears streaming down his face.

His wife, Lu Yi, lay by the bedside, crying so hard she almost fainted.

Looking at Lu Zhi's aged yet peaceful face, Ji Xuanyuan felt an overwhelming sense of grief.

He recalled that back in Guangzong, Lu Zhi faked his death and he secretly arranged for Lu Zhi's safekeeping. From then on, this great Confucian scholar of the time would advise him from behind the scenes.

He recalled how many talents Lu Zhi had cultivated for the court and how much effort he had put into ensuring the stability of the country over the years.

"Lord Lu, why are you leaving in such a hurry?" Ji Xuanyuan murmured.

"I haven't had a chance to properly thank you yet..."

Li Cunxiao crawled forward on his knees, kowtowed, and said, "Brother, my father-in-law asked me to pass on some words to you before he passed away."

Ji Xuanyuan turned to look at him.

Li Cunxiao wiped away his tears and choked out, "My father-in-law said that His Majesty's kindness to him is as heavy as a mountain, and he has no regrets in this life. He only hopes that His Majesty will take care of his health and not overwork himself. He also said that His Majesty is a wise ruler for all ages, and the foundation of the Great Yan will surely be passed down for ten thousand generations."

Ji Xuanyuan closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"deliver an imperial order!"

He spoke, his voice hoarse but firm: "Lu Zhi is posthumously granted the title of Grand Tutor, the posthumous name Wenzhen, and buried with the rites due to a duke at Beiman Mountain. Court will be suspended for three days to show our condolences."

"Yes, sir!" Guo Jia, standing beside him, bowed and accepted the order.

That night, in the imperial palace, in the sleeping quarters.

Ji Xuanyuan sat on the edge of the couch, his face pale, coughing from time to time.

Zhen Mi held a bowl of medicinal soup, blew on it gently, and brought it to his lips.

"Your Majesty, it's time to take your medicine."

Ji Xuanyuan took the medicine and drank it all in one gulp. The bitter medicine went down his throat, but it couldn't suppress the dull pain in his chest. He coughed a few more times, and Zhen Mi quickly patted his back, her eyes full of heartache.

"Your Majesty, you are too tired." Her voice was soft, but choked with emotion. "Mr. Zhang said that you suffered from a serious illness in your early years, and if you continue to work like this, your old ailment may relapse. Can't you take a rest?"

Ji Xuanyuan held her hand and smiled slightly: "Mi'er, I'm fine."

Zhen Mi looked at him, tears streaming down her face. She cupped his face in her hands, examining it closely—this face, once incomparably handsome, now bore the marks of time.

A few strands of white hair have appeared at his temples, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes have deepened.

He was only forty-three years old, but he looked like he was in his fifties.

"Your Majesty, you're lying," she choked out.

"You're clearly very tired, clearly not feeling well, yet you keep saying you're fine. Do you know how worried I am?"

Ji Xuanyuan embraced her and whispered, "Mi'er, I know, but I cannot rest. There are still too many things to do in this world. If I rest, those powerful families will make a comeback, and those new policies will be abandoned halfway. I promised the people that I would let them live a good life. I cannot break my promise."

Zhen Mi leaned against his chest, her tears soaking his dragon robe.

"Your Majesty, it's not that I don't want you to do things. I'm just... just afraid of losing you." Her voice was as soft as a mosquito's buzz. "Do you know, I can't sleep well every night. I'm always afraid that when I wake up, you won't be there anymore."

Ji Xuanyuan felt a pang of pain in his heart and hugged her tightly.

"Mi'er, I will not leave you. I still want to watch Heng'er grow up, and watch Gan'er and Wu'er get married and start their own families. I still want to grow old with you."

Zhen Mi raised her head and looked at him with teary eyes.

"Your Majesty, is everything you're saying true?"

Ji Xuanyuan nodded, his gaze gentle: "When have I ever lied to you?"

Zhen Mi stopped crying and started laughing, crying and laughing like a child.

Outside the window, the autumn rain continued to fall. Inside the bedchamber, however, it was warm and cozy.

Several days later, at the tomb of Lu Zhi in Beiman Mountain.

Ji Xuanyuan stood before the tomb, dressed in a plain robe, without any attendants.

The autumn wind was bleak, blowing his clothes and swirling up a few fallen leaves.

"Lord Lu," he said softly.

"Rest in peace. I will take good care of this world and the Great Yan dynasty."

He bowed deeply, then turned and left.

Behind him, the tombstone is inscribed with several large characters: "Tomb of Lu Zhi, Grand Tutor and Duke Wenzhen".

Winter of the tenth year of the Qianwu reign, Luoyang, Imperial Palace.

Ji Xuanyuan's illness is getting worse.

He often coughed up blood while reviewing memorials every day.

Zhen Mi advised him to rest, but he always said, "Wait a little longer."

But this wait lasted for several months.

On this day, Zhang Zhongjing entered the palace to examine patients' pulses.

He examined patients for a long time, his brows furrowed and his expression grave.

"His Majesty."

He withdrew his hand and said softly, "Your illness has penetrated to your lungs and internal organs. If you don't rest and recuperate, I'm afraid..."

Ji Xuanyuan waved his hand, interrupting him: "I know how much longer I have to live."

Zhang Zhongjing remained silent for a moment, then slowly said, "If one calms down and recuperates, one might live another ten years; if one continues to overwork..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but his meaning was clear.

Ji Xuanyuan smiled.

That smile contained relief, helplessness, and a hint of resentment.

"Ten years...that's enough."

Zhang Zhongjing was taken aback.

Ji Xuanyuan looked at him with a deep gaze: "Ten years is enough for me to finish what I need to do."

That night, in the sleeping quarters.

Zhen Mi leaned against Ji Xuanyuan's chest and whispered, "Your Majesty, I heard everything Mr. Zhang said."

Ji Xuanyuan remained silent.

Zhen Mi raised her head, looking at him with tears in her eyes: "Your Majesty, can't you live for yourself just once?"

Ji Xuanyuan looked down at her, his gaze gentle: "Mi'er, I have lived my whole life for others. In my youth, I lived for my brothers; later, I lived for the people of the world; and now, I live for Heng'er and the others. But I have no regrets."

He held her hand and whispered, "Because I know that what I'm doing will allow more people to live a better life."

Zhen Mi lay on his chest, weeping silently.

Ji Xuanyuan stroked her hair and murmured, "Mi'er, do you know? The luckiest thing in my life is not becoming emperor, but marrying you."

Zhen Mi raised her head and looked at him with teary eyes.

Ji Xuanyuan smiled slightly: "I remember, back in Wuji, you were only fifteen years old. When I went to propose marriage, you were wearing a light green dress, standing under the plum tree, as beautiful as a person in a painting. At that time, I thought, she is the one for me in this life."

Zhen Mi smiled through her tears: "Your Majesty still remembers?"

Ji Xuanyuan nodded: "I remember, I remember everything."

He paused, then said, "I also know that you like to write poetry, and I have read all those poems that resent me."

Zhen Mi was taken aback, her cheeks flushing slightly: "Your Majesty... how did you know?"

Ji Xuanyuan laughed: "I am the emperor, what don't I know?"

He lowered his head, looked into her eyes, and said softly, "Mi'er, I know that you're not resentful that I don't take concubines, or that I neglect you. You're resentful that I'm too busy and don't have time for you. You're resentful that my health is getting worse and worse, and that you're afraid I'll leave you."

Zhen Mi's tears welled up again.

"Your Majesty..." she choked out, "This concubine...this concubine just..."

Ji Xuanyuan embraced her and whispered, "I know. I know everything."

Outside the window, the night wind howled. Inside the bedchamber, the candlelight flickered.

That night, the emperor neither reviewed memorials nor summoned his ministers.

He simply held his queen, sitting quietly, listening to her breathing and feeling her heartbeat.

In the spring of the eleventh year of Qianwu (211 AD), in Luoyang, at the Taiji Hall.

Court meeting.

Ji Xuanyuan sat on the throne, his face pale, but he still stood straight with his eyes blazing.

"Your Majesty," Guo Jia stepped forward and said softly, "The Imperial Medical Academy recommends that Your Majesty rest and recuperate. The Crown Prince may temporarily oversee the affairs of the court."

Ji Xuanyuan shook his head, his gaze firm: "No need, I can still hold on."

He surveyed his ministers and said, word by word, "What I have to do is not yet finished. I will not fall."

The courtiers all knelt down and shouted "Long live the Emperor!" But their shouts carried a hint of worry and unease.

After the court session, in the Imperial Study.

Ji Xuanyuan sat alone at his desk, a long list spread out before him. It was a new batch of policies he was preparing to implement. He wanted to establish a comprehensive system for elderly care, medical care, and education in the Great Yan. He wanted every citizen to have someone to care for in old age, someone to educate in childhood, and someone to treat the sick.

"Your Majesty," Guo Jia entered and said softly, "your health..."

Ji Xuanyuan waved his hand, interrupting him: "Fengxiao, I know what I am doing. My time is running out, and I must seize every moment."

Guo Jia remained silent for a long time before bowing deeply: "Your subject obeys the decree."

Summer of the eleventh year of the Qianwu reign, Luoyang, Imperial Garden.

Ji Xuanyuan took Zhen Mi for a stroll in the garden. Spring had turned to summer, and all kinds of flowers were in full bloom, a riot of colors.

"Mi'er, look how beautifully these flowers are blooming," Ji Xuanyuan said with a smile, pointing to a cluster of peonies.

Zhen Mi leaned on his shoulder and whispered, "Yes, it's really beautiful."

Ji Xuanyuan looked at her with tender eyes: "Mi'er, I promise you, once I'm done with this busy period, I'll take you to see all the flowers in the world."

Zhen Mi shook her head, her eyes slightly red: "Your Majesty, I don't want to see all the flowers in the world. I only want Your Majesty to be well."

Ji Xuanyuan held her hand and whispered, "I will be fine."

In the distance, Ji Heng, Ji Qian, and Ji Wu, three children, were chasing and playing among the flowers. Their laughter was clear and melodious, like the sound of silver bells.

Ji Xuanyuan looked at them, and a warm feeling welled up in his heart.

"Heng'er," he called.

Ji Heng ran over and bowed, saying, "Father."

Ji Xuanyuan patted his shoulder and said gently, "You are the eldest son, so you must take good care of your younger brothers and your mother in the future."

Ji Heng nodded, his gaze firm: "Father, rest assured, I will."

Ji Xuanyuan smiled.

As the sun sets, it bathes the Imperial Garden in a golden hue. A family of five strolls among the flowers, enjoying a peaceful and happy time.