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Meanwhile inside the grand hall, Zhao Yun shared a cup with Zhou Yu. The two refined men, each handsome in their own distinct ways, Zhao Yun stoic and radiant, Zhou Yu poised and elegant, seemed a picture of calm refinement amidst the chaos.
Ma Yunlu, heavily pregnant, leaned comfortably against cushions while handmaids attended her, beside her was Xiao Qiao who asked her abou ther pregnancy who hshe response gently. Ma Yunlu then turned to look at the center and smiled as she watched her brother Ma Chao with his new bride.
"It suits him," she murmured.
Zhao Yun heard her and nodded. "He looks… complete."
"And he deserves that," she added, resting a hand on her stomach.
She glanced at Zhao Yun, who softened at her gesture.
"Yes," he said. "They both do. Just like the two of us." As he said that, he took hold of Ma Yunlu's hand.
All around the hall, joy bloomed like spring flowers.
And at the center of that blooming warmth were Ma Chao and Sun Shangxiang, sharing quiet words no one else could hear, fingers still intertwined, wine cups forgotten, hearts closer than ever.
More guests approached.
More laughter rose.
But in that moment, Sun Shangxiang knew one thing clearly.
Tonight may have felt like a dream—
But marrying Ma Chao…
That was the most real thing she had ever done.
And outside, under the moonlit sky of Yuzhang, the Oriole Agents continued guarding the perimeter, keeping danger far from the warmth of the celebration. Their presence was invisible, their efficiency unmatched.
Tonight belonged to love. To unity. To the binding of two families. And to the silent, unseen strength that made such peace possible.
Because as long as Lie Fan reigned on the land, prosperity would flourish, and shadows would be trimmed before they ever touched the light.
And thus, the wedding feast went on into the night, full of life, full of joy, full of everything that made the world worth fighting for.
Meanwhile, far to the west of Yuzhang, where the lanterns of Ma Chao and Sun Shangxiang's wedding could never reach, at the city of Chengdu, capital of Han, lay under a colder kind of light.
No drums.
No fireworks.
No joy.
Only the muted crackle of a brazier burning against the winter chill and the quiet, fragile warmth of a small family trying desperately to pretend they were still whole.
Inside a private chamber of the imperial palace, Emperor Xian sat cross legged on a low couch, a storybook open across his lap. His voice, gentle, almost trembling, wove through the air as he read aloud.
Beside him, Empress Dong helped their daughter Liu Jie nibble on a pastry shaped like a peach blossom. The eight year old girl leaned against her mother with the weary heaviness of a child who had learned too much too early.
She tried to listen to the story. She tried to smile. She tried to laugh at the silly voices her father made.
But no child in the world could pretend forever.
Especially not when she had been told, just weeks ago, that she would soon leave Chengdu… leave her home… and be married to a boy she had never met. Married. At eight.
Not for love.
Not for peace.
But to secure Han's obedience to the rising Hengyuan Dynasty.
Her innocence had cracked like thin glass.
Emperor Xian knew it. Empress Dong knew it. And yet, they were powerless to undo what he had spoken, because the truth had already sunk its teeth into their daughter's tender heart.
So today, the Emperor tried to mend the break with stories. The Empress tried with sweets. And Liu Jie tried, oh, she tried so hard, to pretend she was still just a little girl.
"...and then the phoenix spread its wings," Emperor Xian read softly, "protecting the village below from the raging storm."
Liu Jie blinked up at him. "Father… do phoenixes really protect people?"
Her voice was very small.
He swallowed. "Yes. They do, Jie'er."
"But…" She looked down at her hands, tiny fingers tightening. "Who will protect you and Mother when I'm gone?"
Empress Dong froze.
Emperor Xian's throat tightened painfully.
Before he could speak, before he could lie, or soothe, or tell her he would protect the whole world if he had to, he felt her small hand clutch the loose fold of his sleeve.
"Father," she whispered, "I don't want to be… given away."
Her voice cracked.
Empress Dong immediately pulled her into her arms, holding her close as if she could shield her from the entire world. "My little Jie'er… you don't need to say anything more."
But the girl had already said enough to shatter both their hearts.
Emperor Xian closed the storybook, resting it silently on his knee. His daughter's hair shook where she pressed into her mother's chest. And the Emperor, who the world believed weak, felt something inside him coil like a trapped, wounded animal.
He hated himself for telling her the truth.
But he hated even more the men who had forced him to.
Fa Zheng.
Zhang Song.
Meng Da.
Those three snakes had cornered him in his own throne room just days earlier, making no attempt to hide their grip over the Han court, over him. They had spoken brazenly, as though discussing market prices, about sending his only daughter away as collateral for their political games.
That was when Emperor Xian had realized something terrifying:
They weren't afraid of him anymore.
They didn't even pretend to be.
He was no longer an emperor in their eyes.
He was a puppet on a throne.
But here, right now, with his daughter trembling in Empress Dong's embrace, he was just a father.
He tucked a strand of hair behind Liu Jie's ear and whispered, "It won't be today. It won't be tomorrow. You still have time with us."
She nodded, though her eyes glistened.
Empress Dong kissed her forehead, murmuring soft reassurances.
And for one short, fleeting moment… the room felt peaceful again.
It didn't last.
Because without warning, the chamber doors swung open with a rude, echoing slam.
No servants announced anyone.
No guards signaled arrival.
Instead, Fa Zheng stepped inside with a smirk that twisted his handsome features into something venomous. Behind him strode Zhang Song, his expression dripping contempt, and Meng Da, who looked pleased merely to be included in the arrogance of the other two.
Empress Dong jerked sharply, pulling Liu Jie against her protectively as if shielding her from wolves.
Emperor Xian shot to his feet, heart wrenching from fear straight into burning fury.
"What," he demanded, "is the meaning of this intrusion?!"
Fa Zheng waved a hand as if shooing away a bothersome insect. "Meaning? Oh, Your Majesty, you misunderstand. We simply come bearing good news."
Emperor Xian's jaw locked.
Zhang Song stepped forward, tone oily. "Your Majesty, Your Highness, we could not wait to inform you that the envoys of Hengyuan have arrived. Zhuge Liang and Lu Xun themselves. They request audience to finalize dowry arrangements and betrothal gifts."
Empress Dong's face lost nearly all color.
Liu Jie clung to her sleeves.
Emperor Xian's blood froze… then boiled.
"You enter without permission," he said, voice shaking from suppressing rage, "you disturb my wife and child, and now you dare—"
Fa Zheng interrupted him with a laugh.
A laugh.
"As touching as family scenes are," he drawled, "you are an emperor, not a storyteller. Personal time must wait. The envoys of Hengyuan hold far more importance than bedtime tales."
The condescension hit like a slap to the face.
Zhang Song added sharply, "We must not keep them waiting. You will receive them immediately."
The shift in tone was unmistakable.
He wasn't being asked.
He was being commanded.
Emperor Xian felt something inside him crack. Not loudly. But quietly, like old porcelain finally giving way.
For a moment, he considered shouting for guards.
But what would that change? The guards listened to Fa Zheng now. They feared Zhang Song. They took orders from Meng Da.
Han was no longer his to command.
He ground his teeth until they ached. "My daughter is still here. She should not—"
"She is irrelevant to the meeting," Zhang Song cut in, dismissive. "Remove her."
Not even "escort her."
Not even "please."
Just—
Remove her.
As though Liu Jie were an object in the way.
Empress Dong stood, fury trembling through her. "How dare you speak of the Princess like—"
But Emperor Xian touched her wrist, a silent plea telling her to stop.
He could not protect them if he enraged these vipers further.
With visible pain, he said, "Dong'er… have your handmaidens take Jie'er back to her room."
The Empress felt like she'd been stabbed, but she obeyed, hugging her daughter into her arms. "Come, sweet girl. You go and follow the big sisters back to your room first okay."
Liu Jie looked back at her father and her mother, fear widening her eyes. "Will you come too, Father? Mother?"
Emperor Xian seeing this have his heart split. "Ilthe two of us will, soon."
Her hand slipped reluctantly from his, fingers lingering until the last possible instant.
The door closed behind them.
And Emperor Xian stood alone before the three men who had stolen his power.
Fa Zheng clapped his hands lightly together. "Now then. Since the Princess is out of the way…"
Zhang Song straightened his robes, gesturing toward the door. "Let us escort Your Majesty and the Empress to the envoys."
Emperor Xian's chest rose and fell.
He wanted to refuse.
He wanted to scream.
He wanted to strike all three of them.
But he did none of those things.
Because he couldn't.
He gave a small nod, the nod of a man who had run out of walls to stand behind.
And without another word, he walked toward the door.
The three officials followed behind him, smug, leisurely, triumphant, as if escorting a captured noble rather than an emperor.
But their work did not stop there.
Outside the palace, the night had thickened. Lanterns flickered across Chengdu's streets, shadows stretching long and thin.
Here, in this darkness, another gathering took place.
Men loyal to Fa Zheng, Zhang Song, and Meng Da, nobles, merchants, scholars, minor officials, quietly slipped through alleyways and side gates, making their way to an unremarkable building in the bustling market district.
A place no one would look twice at.
The Serenity Inn.
On the second floor, a chamber had been cleared and shuttered. Through its thin walls, murmurs grew louder as more figures arrived, heads of wealthy merchant clans, scholars with political influence, lesser nobles hungry for power.
These were the people who had thrown their allegiance behind the rising storm known as the Hengyuan Dynasty.
They believed Lie Fan's sun was ascending. They believed Han was dead weight. They believed siding with Emperor Hongyi meant profit, status, and safety. And now, they were being summoned for the next step in that treacherous path. A representative of the three ministers stepped forward, sweeping his gaze across the room.
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Name: Lie Fan
Title: Founding Emperor Of Hengyuan Dynasty
Age: 35 (202 AD)
Level: 16
Next Level: 462,000
Renown: 2325
Cultivation: Yin Yang Separation (level 9)
SP: 1,121,700
ATTRIBUTE POINTS
STR: 966 (+20)
VIT: 623 (+20)
AGI: 623 (+10)
INT: 667
CHR: 98
WIS: 549
WILL: 432
ATR Points: 0