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And yet, somewhere beneath his fear, a faint ember of defiance still burned. He could not, would not, let his dynasty become a pawn in another empire's story. That night, after hours of restless pacing and whispered consultations with his queen, Emperor Xian made a decision. He would confront them, Fa Zheng, Zhang Song, and Meng Da, directly.
By dawn, the palace was quiet once more, save for the muffled sound of servants preparing the morning incense.
When the trio received the summons, they were taken aback.
"His Majesty wishes to meet us… alone?" Zhang Song had murmured, his plump face creasing in mild surprise. "Perhaps the Emperor intends to show gratitude for the proposal. Or… perhaps…"
Fa Zheng's sharp eyes had narrowed. "Or he wishes to play a little game of defiance. The puppet struggles at his strings."
Meng Da chuckled lowly. "Let him. A puppet's tantrum changes nothing. But I'm curious to see how far he dares go."
Meanwhile, in one of the smaller chambers, away from the prying eyes of the court, Emperor Xian sat waiting.
He had chosen this place deliberately, small, enclosed, with no ornamental grandeur. A room meant not for ceremony, but for truth.
Fa Zheng, Zhang Song, and Meng Da entered together, their robes immaculate, their expressions calm but curious.
"Fa Zheng, Zhang Song, Meng Da," Emperor Xian greeted evenly. "I thank you for coming."
"Your Majesty summoned us early," Fa Zheng said smoothly, bowing just deep enough to remain polite but not subservient. "Is there urgent business to be discussed?"
Emperor Xian gestured toward the seats across from him. "Please take your sit."
They did.
The silence that followed was thick, three seasoned politicians and one emperor bound by formality, yet divided by power.
At last, Emperor Xian spoke.
"I have been reflecting," he began, his tone composed but firm, "on the matter proposed during the Zitong banquet. The marriage alliance with Hengyuan."
Zhang Song's eyes glimmered faintly. "Ah, yes. A splendid idea, is it not, Your Majesty? The astrologers agree that it would—"
"I have read their reports," the Emperor interrupted, voice sharp enough to cut the air. "And I have heard their words. But what I wish to hear now… is yours."
A brief silence followed. Fa Zheng tilted his head, studying the Emperor. "Mine, Your Majesty?"
"Yes," Emperor Xian said. "Tell me, Master Fa Zheng. Why do you do it during the banquet? Why such a public announcement without prior consultation with your sovereign?"
The words "your sovereign" lingered in the air like a challenge.
Fa Zheng's smile didn't waver, but his eyes grew colder. "Your Majesty, I believed it an opportunity. The people celebrate victory at Zitong. Spirits are high. The Han's fortunes appear ascendant once more. What better time to demonstrate magnanimity and alliance than when the heavens favor us?"
"Alliance?" Emperor Xian repeated. "Or submission?"
That word hit the room like a dropped sword.
Meng Da leaned forward slightly, his tone silky but pointed. "Surely, Your Majesty does not mean to insult our guests in such a way. The Hengyuan Dynasty has extended several friendly message to us on multiple occasions. To spurn such friendship might be seen as—"
"Seen by whom?" Emperor Xian snapped, his temper flaring. "By Hengyuan? Or by you, Master Meng Da?"
Zhang Song shifted in his seat, his habitual smirk fading slightly. The Emperor's tone had changed, sharper, steadier, and more dangerous than they had ever heard from him before.
"I know what you are doing," Emperor Xian continued. "All three of you. You think to bind me to Hengyuan, to make me seem a willing participant in my dynasty's subjugation. But I will not be remembered as the Emperor who surrendered his bloodline for a feast and a smile."
The air grew taut.
Fa Zheng's voice softened, almost magnimous. "Your Majesty, you misunderstand. This is not subjugation. It is survival. You yourself have seen how the tides shift, Wei retreats, and Hengyuan advances. To resist them openly would invite annihilation. This marriage secures peace."
"Peace built on humiliation is no peace at all," Emperor Xian replied. "You would trade my daughters' honor to buy yourselves a few years of comfort."
For the first time, Zhang Song's voice hardened. "And what of the people, Your Majesty? Will your pride feed them when famine comes again? Will your refusal shield them when Hengyuan's banners appear on the horizon?"
"Do not twist righteousness to justify greed," Emperor Xian shot back. "I have seen the ledgers. The land taxes, the diverted tributes, all feeding your estates and those of your cohorts, while you speak of the people's welfare. If this alliance truly served the Han, you would not need to hide your profits behind it."
That struck home. For a brief instant, even Fa Zheng's practiced mask faltered.
Then he chuckled softly, almost admiringly. "It seems His Majesty has grown a spine after all."
Emperor Xian met his gaze evenly. "Even a caged bird still remembers how to fight."
The tension in the chamber thickened until it felt like the air itself might snap.
At last, Fa Zheng leaned back, his smile returning, calm once more. "Very well, Your Majesty. You have made your objection clear. But understand this, the court has already praised the proposal. The people believe it blessed by heaven. If you were to reject it now, they would see you as defying fate itself."
He rose slowly, bowing once, just enough to be polite, but the smirk never left his lips.
"In the end, the will of heaven often speaks through those willing to act."
With that, Fa Zheng turned, Zhang Song and Meng Da following close behind. As they left, Emperor Xian's knuckles tightened around the armrest of his chair until his nails dug into the wood.
When the doors closed, he exhaled, a trembling breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"Fate," he whispered bitterly. "When men lose power, they always blame the heavens."
He looked up toward the faint sunlight filtering through the window lattice, his expression weary but resolute. "Perhaps… perhaps it is time the heavens were reminded that emperors do not kneel forever."
Outside, the bells of Chengdu tolled softly, a sound both distant and ominous. The storm between Han and Hengyuan was only beginning, and all the words spoken in that small chamber would soon echo across the land.
On the other hand, to the south of Chengdu, after months of campaigning across rough terrain and foreign jungles, the Sun Clan Army and the Ma Clan's Imperial host had finally set foot once more on the familiar soil of the mainland.
The men who had marched through torrential rains and burned villages now found themselves surrounded by the warmth of home, though still very far from Yuzhang and Xiapi. Their armor was dented, their banners frayed, but their spirits, flushed with victory, burned bright.
When they entered Jiaozhi, it was as though the city itself had been reborn. Streets were lined with garlands of crimson silk, and the people gathered in droves, shouting blessings and praises. "Long live the heroes!" they cried, tossing petals and coins as the victorious armies passed through.
Shi Xie, the venerable Duke Jingnan of Jiao, had ordered a grand celebration in their honor, one worthy of the empire's southern heroes.
The soldiers were allowed a rare reprieve. Great vats of rice wine were rolled out, roasted boar and sea fish were served in abundance, and the weary men laughed like boys once more, singing old marching songs by the firesides. For a night, the hardship of their long campaign was forgotten.
Inside the grand hall of Jiaozhi's Governor Castle, the celebration was far more refined but no less lively. The hall was richly adorned with banners embroidered in gold thread, depicting dragons entwined with phoenixes, symbols of victory and divine favor.
Lanterns shaped like lotus blooms swayed gently above, their soft light reflecting off polished bronze and jade cups. The air carried the mingled scents of sandalwood incense and fine wine.
Shi Xie himself sat at the head of the long banquet table, his posture straight but his expression warm. His years had not dulled his vigor, his sharp eyes missed nothing, though he laughed easily, the sound resonating through the hall.
To his right sat the delegation of the Sun Clan. Sun Ce, bold and radiant as ever, his laughter commanding attention even amid the din, beside him, his thoughtful younger brother Sun Quan, calm and deliberate, a d their sister, the proud and sharp tongued Sun Shangxiang, and the trusted advisor and generals Zhou Yu, Cheng Pu, Zhou Tai, and Lu Meng, each with the air of men seasoned by war but tempered by loyalty.
To Shi Xie's left sat the representatives of the Ma Clan: Ma Chao at the forefront, his golden hair and fierce eyes giving him the air of a northern lion even here in the tropical south. His cousins, Ma Tie, Ma Xiu, and Ma Dai, sat near him, their demeanor disciplined but their faces alight with the rare comfort of victory and homecoming.
Further down the table sat aides, officers, scholars, and envoys, men of letters and men of arms, all gathered under the Duke's roof to honor the triumph in Funan.
As the servants poured the first round of wine, Shi Xie rose, his silk sleeves fluttering lightly. He raised his jade cup high, his voice carrying clearly through the chamber.
"Tonight," he declared, "we celebrate not only victory, but unity. The sons of the north and the south, of Hengyuan and Jiaozhi, have fought as one beneath His Majesty's banner and returned in glory! To all of you, the heroes who have pacified the rebellious lands of Funan and brought peace to the southern frontier, I, Shi Xie, Duke Jingnan of Jiaozhi, offer my deepest congratulations!"
His words were met with a thunder of applause and cheers. Cups were raised all along the hall, and when Shi Xie drank, so did every man present.
Sun Ce, ever quick with his words, stood soon after, still holding his cup. His voice was clear and commanding, yet carried a friendly charm that few could resist.
"Duke Jingnan speaks with the heart of a true statesman," Sun Ce said. "We of the Sun Clana and the Ma Clan are merely instruments of His Majesty's will, but this success, this peace, could not have been achieved without the foresight and cooperation of our host. The information, the supplies, the guidance your domain provided, my lord, they were the very bones of our campaign. It is we who should offer you our gratitude."
Zhou Yu, sitting beside him, nodded and smiled faintly, adding, "Indeed. Without the maps and intelligence from Duke Jingnan, the expedition into Funan would have cost twice the time and thrice the blood."
Shi Xie laughed heartily and waved his hand, his modesty effortless but sincere. "No, no, Marquis Dingdong, Master Zhou, you flatter me. I merely obeyed His Majesty's command. My position here, so close to these lands, grants me convenience, a network of merchants, envoys, and even monks who travel between our borders and the southern kingdoms. What I did was but a trifle compared to what you achieved in the field."
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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