Hot flashes

The aftershocks of the battle at Cangyun Ridge, like a boulder thrown into the center of a lake, slowly spread to the southern capital.

The news of Huo Yi's death in battle and the near annihilation of the Northern Expeditionary Army finally reached the capital after several days of urgent delivery.

At the morning court session, the young emperor held the dusty, somber war report in his hands, his face ashen, and remained silent for a long time. The court was deathly still; you could hear a pin drop.

Defeated? General Huo... is dead?

A mixture of shock, grief, anger, and a profound sense of powerlessness churned within the young emperor.

He recalled Huo Yi's impassioned speech in the imperial study before his departure, his upright spine like a pine tree, and his resolute gaze. But now…

"Your Majesty!" The Minister of War stepped forward, his voice heavy with grief, "General Huo sacrificed his life for the country; his loyalty shines as bright as the sun and moon! However, the traitor Xiao is rampant, and the northern border is in grave danger. I implore Your Majesty to quickly mobilize the elite troops of the capital garrison and dispatch another capable general to launch another northern expedition, to avenge this humiliation and comfort General Huo's spirit in heaven!"

"I second that!" the Minister of Revenue followed closely, but his tone was subtle. "However, years of war have strained the national treasury, and the disaster relief efforts for the southeast floods are not yet complete. If we were to raise another large army, the money and provisions..."

"Money, rations! All you care about is money and rations!" An old censor, a close friend of Huo Yi and known for his upright character, stepped forward and angrily rebuked, "Our soldiers are shedding blood on the front lines, dying on the battlefield, while you're haggling over every penny in the rear! If it weren't for General Huo and other loyal and brave men guarding the border, where would you get the peaceful days to scheme over these worthless things!"

"Imperial Censor Wang, be careful what you say! The nation's expenditures are not to be treated lightly!"

The court was immediately thrown into chaos, with the pro-war faction, the pro-peace faction, and officials busy shirking responsibility and calculating gains and losses all sticking to their own opinions, creating a noisy and chaotic scene like a marketplace.

The young emperor sat high on his dragon throne, looking down at the group of ministers arguing heatedly, and felt a deep weariness and disgust well up in his heart.

When Huo Yi died, their first thought was not to mourn the loss of a great general, nor to reflect on the reasons for the defeat, but to argue about whether to fight again, where the money and supplies would come from, and who would bear the responsibility!

He slammed his hand on the armrest of the dragon throne: "Enough!"

The clamor abruptly ceased. The ministers bowed their heads.

The emperor took a deep breath, suppressing his turbulent emotions, and said in a deep voice, "Minister Huo died a loyal and brave death for his country. He is posthumously awarded the title of Grand Commandant and the posthumous name 'Zhongwu' (Loyal and Martial). His family will receive generous compensation. All soldiers who died in the northern expedition will also receive preferential treatment and compensation."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the assembled officials, "As for the northern border... Xiao's forces are strong, and General Huo has just suffered a defeat. Our army needs to temporarily avoid their sharp edge and recuperate."

An imperial edict was issued, ordering Ningwu Pass to be strictly guarded and no unauthorized attacks permitted. Furthermore, an envoy was dispatched… to secretly contact Xiao Jue and probe his intentions.

The last sentence was spoken in a very low voice, filled with resentment and helplessness. To actively send envoys to contact the rebels was tantamount to tacitly acknowledging their separatist power, which would damage the emperor's authority.

However, the court is currently unable to organize a second effective northern expedition immediately, and it is pointless to save face. It would be better to adopt a delaying tactic for the time being.

Some courtiers looked astonished, some seemed thoughtful, and others secretly breathed a sigh of relief—without war, many things would be easier to handle.

The emperor waved his hand wearily: "Court adjourned."

Back in the imperial study, after dismissing his attendants, the emperor stood alone by the window, gazing at the northern sky.

As dusk settled, the palace servants quietly lit the candles.

He wasn't born to sit here.

His mother was just a palace maid of low birth who was favored by the late emperor by chance, and she died of depression not long after giving birth to him.

He was ranked low among the princes, with mediocre talent. He had neither a powerful maternal family to support him nor was he valued by his father. He was like an inconspicuous weed, growing in the most remote corner of the palace.

In those years, his greatest wish was simply to be a carefree prince, to have his own little courtyard, to read some leisurely books, to raise some flowers and birds, and to stay far away from these suffocating conspiracies and infighting.

Who could have imagined that life would turn out so unpredictably...

He often mocked himself for being forced into this situation.

What the late emperor left behind was an empire that appeared vast, but whose interior had been hollowed out.

In the imperial court, the deeply entrenched aristocratic families, the nobles with their own agendas, and the greedy bureaucrats... each of these forces understood better than the emperor, whose foundation was shallow, how to seize profits in this murky water.

His decrees often took on a different meaning once they left the palace.

Just like this northern expedition.

He genuinely wanted to support Huo Yi, to make a difference, to reorganize the northern frontier, and to stabilize the foundation of the nation.

Despite the pressure, he allocated funds from the already meager imperial treasury and repeatedly urged the Ministry of War and the Ministry of Revenue to act.

But what was the result? Huo Yi died on the battlefield, his loyal soul perished, and tens of thousands of soldiers were buried in the icy plains.

The reports, revealing "insufficient supplies" and "no way to seek help," pierced his heart like cold needles, starkly exposing his incompetence as emperor.

He couldn't even guarantee that the soldiers fighting for him on the front lines would receive the most basic supplies!

After the anger comes a deeper sense of powerlessness.

He knew where the problem lay, and vaguely knew who might be causing trouble, but he couldn't do anything about it, at least not openly.

A single hair can affect the whole situation; his pitiful authority couldn't withstand another upheaval in the court. Compromise, forbearance, balance... he loathed these, yet he had to use them skillfully.

He walked to the imperial desk, spread out a blank imperial edict, and picked up the imperial brush.

The brush tip was saturated with ink, yet it hesitated to fall. The ink condensed, finally unable to bear the weight, and with a "plop," it dripped onto the expensive Xuan paper, quickly spreading into a glaring black blot, like an unhealable sore.

Just like this empire, just like his rule.

Finally, he dejectedly put down his pen, without writing a single word. Those official documents of commendation, posthumous honors, and pensions would be drafted by the cabinet. Anything he wrote at this moment would seem pale and laughable.

Outside the window, night had completely enveloped the palace, the eaves and corners hidden in darkness, leaving only scattered lights, like the eyes of a trapped beast.

The young emperor stood in this desolate place that symbolized the center of power in the world, his shadow stretched long and thin, as if he might be swallowed by the darkness at any moment.

He recalled his childhood, hiding in a dilapidated side hall of the Cold Palace, watching flocks of geese flying north in the sky.

At that time, he thought how wonderful it would be to fly high and far away like those wild geese, away from these square, suffocating red walls.