In the spring of the 31st year of the Longwu era^[1]Prosperous Martial, Emperor Yan Taizong Xiao Heng^[2]great consolidator emperor) of the Yan Dynasty personally led his fourth northern expedition, successfully reclaiming eleven northern provinces. All nomadic forces in the northern deserts bowed to the Yan Dynasty, bringing peace to a land that had been torn by war for over a century. The Yan Empire reached an unprecedented peak in size and prosperity. But on the way back to the capital, Xiao Heng’s old illness flared up again.

Knowing he didn’t have much time left, Xiao Heng summoned all civil and military officials, along with his younger brother Prince Jin, to his bedside.

After the court eunuch finished reading the imperial edict of succession, Xiao Heng dismissed the officials, leaving only Prince Jin behind.

Prince Jin, kneeling at the side, was already in tears. Grabbing the edge of Xiao Heng’s robe, he sobbed, “Brother Emperor, the Yan Empire cannot go on without you!”

“Cough…” Xiao Heng, now with a pounding headache from the weeping, began coughing violently. “Have you cried enough yet? …Cough! If you keep crying, then get out!”

Prince Jin immediately lowered his head in shame and dared not cry further. Eyes red, he choked out, “Brother Emperor, what are your final instructions? I swear to remember them well.”

“The battles in the northwest and Liaodong are over. The northern tribes won’t dare attack for at least another twenty years. The Yan Empire’s foundations are solid now…” Xiao Heng, who had spent over a decade on the battlefield, never married or had children. His only brother, however, was weak and scholarly by nature. “I don’t expect you to achieve great ambitions. Just be a diligent, fair ruler who can discern right from wrong. Minister Wang Boyan and Vice Chancellor Kong Sui have been my trusted aides. I’m leaving them to you. If you’re ever unsure in matters of state, consult with them. Do not act alone.”

“I will obey your every word.”

Prince Jin began crying again as he spoke.

Xiao Heng waved him off impatiently. “Enough. Go.”

He had already conquered the empire, resolved the succession issues, and left capable ministers behind. Everything that needed to be said had been said. Now, he simply wanted to rest alone.

In the empty hall, Xiao Heng closed his eyes. A vast darkness swallowed him whole.

In that moment, a thought flickered through his mind: If there is a next life, I want to see the Yan Empire flourishing in peace with my own eyes.

—

“Your Majesty! Your Majesty!”

Someone shook his shoulders urgently.

“What’s with all the shouting?” Xiao Heng sat up, his vision blurry and head aching. Thinking Prince Jin was still mourning, he looked around—but the face before him was an unfamiliar old eunuch. His expression turned serious at once.

“Who are you?”

“Oh heavens! I am your loyal servant, Li Jinxi!” the old eunuch cried. “Your Majesty, you hit your head on a pillar and fainted. Thank goodness you’re awake now! Please, we must flee—the rebel army has broken through the Vermilion Bird Gate!”

“What did you say?” Xiao Heng forgot to question why he’d just sprung up from his deathbed. He turned toward the palace gates, stunned.

This was indeed his sleeping quarters—the Chengde Hall—but the furnishings were different, overly lavish and gaudy. Outside the thin palace doors, the sounds of chaos—clashing weapons, breaking objects, and panicked screams—filled the air.

Xiao Heng furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of the situation. “Where is the imperial guard?”

Li Jinxi replied, “The commander was beheaded by the rebels. The vice commander has vanished. Most of the remaining troops… have joined the rebels!”

A wave of dizziness hit Xiao Heng.

He asked again, “Where are the commanders of the four regional armies?”

“They… they’ve already reached the Vermilion Bird Gate!”

Xiao Heng leapt to his feet. “Impossible!”

The same people who were just kneeling before him would not rebel so suddenly!

“Wait…”

His voice was full and strong. He looked down at his arms and legs.

When had he recovered the strength to stand?

The decor of the Chengde Hall had changed. A ridiculous thought crept into his mind. In a harsh tone, he asked, “What is the current era and dynasty?”

Li Jinxi hesitated. “It is the fourth year of the Jianing era. The dynasty is, of course, the Yan Dynasty.”

Xiao Heng’s gaze darkened. “What is my name? What is my relation to the Longwu Emperor?”

Longwu was his reign title.

Li Jinxi dropped to his knees, trembling. One did not speak an emperor’s name lightly.

Xiao Heng barked, “Speak.”

The eunuch’s voice shook. “Your Majesty… you are Xiao Huan, tenth-generation descendant of the Gaozong Emperor, younger brother of the Taizong Emperor.”

“…”

The “Taizong Emperor” he referred to was clearly Xiao Heng himself.

He had somehow reincarnated into the body of a descendant a hundred years later?

Xiao Heng stepped in front of a bronze mirror. There was a smear of blood on his forehead—no doubt from hitting the pillar earlier.

The man in the mirror had a similar build and facial features to himself, clearly bearing the royal Xiao bloodline. But he was dressed in embroidered silks, wearing a golden hairpin—and female clothing.

“What kind of outfit is this?!” Xiao Heng nearly blacked out in anger. He tore off the silk shawl and shouted, “What kind of disgrace is this?!”

“What kind of disgrace—!!”

Li Jinxi flinched. “Your… Your Majesty… it’s… your preference…”

Preference?

Xiao Heng’s headache returned in full force.

This foolish descendant not only destroyed the foundation of the Yan Empire, but at the brink of national collapse, indulged in such shameful behavior. If Xiao Heng were still alive, he would have executed him on the spot and never allowed such a disgrace to inherit the throne!

“Your Majesty—the palace is on fire! The rebels are burning everything!”

At Li Jinxi’s shriek, Xiao Heng turned to see flames rapidly spreading across the wooden screens of Chengde Hall.

Boom!

The weakened doors collapsed into the fire. In the crimson glow, several bloodstained rebel soldiers barged in, their faces twisted with lust.

“Well, what do we have here—a beauty still alive.”

Their eyes grew greedy as they took in Xiao Heng’s feminine appearance.

“Your Majesty, run!”

Li Jinxi threw himself in front of Xiao Heng, shielding him.

But the next second, Xiao Heng grabbed him by the collar and yanked him aside.

Eyes wide, Li Jinxi saw what happened next: the emperor—previously thought only capable of listening to operas and playing music—was full of murderous intent. He snatched a bronze sword from the wall, kicked the lead rebel in the chest, and drove the sword into his throat.

Hot blood sprayed across Xiao Heng’s face.

Before the body even hit the ground, he seized the man’s long saber, raised it, and chopped off the second rebel’s head.

The severed head rolled toward the door. The last rebel froze in place. Just moments ago, the “beauty” had seemed utterly defenseless. Now, drenched in blood, he stood like a god of war.

In that split second, he saw a flash of silver. Before he could react, a cold blade pierced his chest, pinning him to the door behind. Blood gushed from his mouth as everything went dark.

In the blink of an eye, all three rebels lay dead.

Li Jinxi, still shaking, pushed himself up with the help of a pillar. Before him, the emperor placed a boot on one of the corpses and pulled the sword free.

The flickering firelight lit up the young emperor’s blood-streaked face. Though he stood alone, it felt as if a thousand troops stood behind him.

Li Jinxi realized something had changed.

This decisive, ruthless emperor was no longer the man he once served.

Xiao Heng turned and asked, “Is the secret passage by the Nine-Bend Pool still there?”

The Nine-Bend Pool was a branch of the imperial lake in the rear palace. When it was built, the craftsmen created a hidden waterway that led beyond the city walls. With the rebels already inside the capital, escaping through the gates was too dangerous. The water route might offer a sliver of hope.

Li Jinxi blinked like he’d just woken from a dream. “Yes, yes—it’s still there! I’ll take Your Majesty right away!”

—

“Rustle!”

Tiny beads of blood fell like raindrops into the blooming peonies. The sticky, crimson liquid gathered along the petals, dripping down one by one, finally plunging into the Nine-Curve Pool^[3]Nine Curve Pool – It usually refers to a pool or water feature that is characterized by winding, serpentine paths, with multiple turns or “curves” in its design. This type of … Continue reading, dyeing its turquoise waters red.

Before the pool, a row of court officials knelt in terror. A scar-faced rebel general, his expression fierce and menacing, gripped a bloodstained long blade. Pointing at one of them, he barked:

“Where is the Emperor?”

The man raised his head high and spat, “Traitor! You betrayed your sovereign and colluded with evil—you’ll get your retribution—”

“Swish!”

Before he could finish, the rebel general’s blade flashed down. Another corpse floated in the Nine-Curve Pool. His still-dripping blade shifted, now pointing to the next trembling man.

“You.”

The man shuddered. “I—I really don’t know!”

Seeing the general step closer, he collapsed to his knees, begging for his life. “Don’t kill me! Please! I’m the Grand Astrologer of the Astronomical Bureau—I can read your fortune!”

The rebel general sneered and raised his blade. “You can read fortunes? Then why didn’t you foresee your own death?”

“No—!”

“Clang—”

At the critical moment, a silver spear deflected the rebel’s blade.

“Stand down.”

A low, commanding voice came from behind.

The rebel general spun around, furious. “Who the hell—”

But before he could finish, he saw an elite unit of silver-armored guards with silver spears lined up in front of him.

From within the unit, a man stepped forward. Hair bound beneath a silver coronet, with sword-shaped brows and star-like eyes, he was strikingly handsome. A black-and-gold jade-inlaid forehead ornament hung beside two thin braids over his chest. Smudges of blood on his face gave him a rugged, almost bandit-like air.

It was clear from his appearance—he had the blood of the northern tribes.

The curse died in the rebel general’s throat. Forcing a smile, he said, “So it’s Prince Duan.”

This man was Duan Yunfeng—the famed son of the King of the North, the one who had just stormed the city wall and beheaded the commander of the imperial guards. He was known as the “Slayer of a Hundred.”

Trying to save face, the rebel general said, “These are all treacherous ministers, spouting falsehoods and harming the state. I only executed them for the sake of the people.”

Duan Yunfeng let out a cold chuckle. “General Han means well, but if you kill all the imperial officials while acting under King Chu’s command, what will the world think? Don’t forget why we allied with King Chu and marched out—it wasn’t for this. Let’s not let good intentions turn into a blunder.”

Han Hu asked, “Then what does Prince Duan suggest?”

Duan Yunfeng replied, “Hand them over to me. Let me handle it, General Han.”

Han Hu looked like he wanted to argue, but seeing the silver spear guards already encircling him, he could only grit his teeth and sheathe his sword before storming off with his men.

Duan Yunfeng gave the frightened officials a sidelong glance, half-smiling. Then he ordered:

“Seal all the gates. These men are the backbone of the court. Don’t harm them. Bring them down for questioning—one by one—about the Emperor’s whereabouts.”

Wiping the blood from his jaw, he added, “Double the patrols near the moat. No one is to leave the palace until the Emperor is found.”

“Yes, sir!”

“I, Gao Cheng, Grand Astrologer of the Astronomical Bureau, thank you for saving my life!” The astrologer suddenly dropped to his knees before Duan Yunfeng. “My lord, you possess the bearing of a dragon and the elegance of a phoenix. Your bone structure is extraordinary. You are on the cusp of a great event. Would you allow me to read your fortune?”

Duan Yunfeng’s adjutant chuckled and whispered, “That’s Gao Cheng—also known as ‘Immortal Gao.’ I heard the Emperor never made a move without consulting him first.”

Duan Yunfeng had always scoffed at superstition. Now, hearing the offer to read his fortune, he smirked coldly.

“What do you see?”

Gao Cheng, thinking he had found a chance to curry favor, grinned. “My lord, your destiny is noble—”

The adjutant cut him off with a snort. “Our general is the King of the North’s heir—of course his fate is noble. We don’t need you to tell us that.”

“I haven’t finished,” Gao Cheng said, rubbing his fingers awkwardly. “I see… Your Ziwei fate is aligned with the Red Phoenix Star. This year, you are destined to encounter your fated one. And…”

“This person holds an extremely noble status—perhaps the most exalted figure under Heaven!”

The adjutant paused, frowning. “Come to think of it, King Chu has offered to marry his daughter to the general…”

“Enough!”

The image of King Chu, Li Jichang, and his sons—ugly and identical—flashed across Duan Yunfeng’s mind. His eyelid twitched.

“Ridiculous superstition,” he snapped. “Stop spouting nonsense.”

“But my lord, what did I say that was wrong?”

Before Gao Cheng could figure out what had gone wrong, two guards had already hoisted him up by the arms and dragged him away.

“General!” Just then, a soldier rushed in. “We may have found the Emperor—downstream of the Nine-Curve Pool, near the opera stage!”

Duan Yunfeng’s eyes sharpened. “Take me there.”

“Yes, sir.”

When he reached the stage, Duan Yunfeng saw the body in the pool below—bloated and rotting in dragon robes.

It had been soaking too long to recognize the face.

“Go check.” Duan Yunfeng stepped off the stage, parting the bushes as he approached the edge of the pool.

Creak—

Footsteps suddenly echoed from the riverbank.

“Who’s there?”

Duan Yunfeng sensed something off. Someone else was there.

He instantly grabbed a bow from a guard, drew it, and aimed at the sound.

No response.

He pushed through the bushes, bow at the ready.

Under the dappled light, the first thing he saw was a wisp of red gauze billowing in the wind.

Then—raven-black hair.

Standing on the far bank was someone dressed in robes like crimson maple leaves, skin pale as snow. Judging by the attire, she was likely a princess.

Her disheveled dark hair fluttered in the wind. Despite the dirt and blood on her face, her bearing remained cold and noble, like jade. Her phoenix-shaped eyes were lowered, lashes dark and long, lips red as winter plums against snow—icy and resolute.

The red veil and white robe flowed with the breeze, casting dancing shadows across her face. Behind her, flames lit the skyline, as if the whole of Luoyang had collapsed.

Duan Yunfeng’s taut bowstring slackened. His heart thumped wildly—faster than it ever had on the battlefield.

She noticed him too. Her dark eyes slowly lifted and met his.

In that instant—

“The Red Phoenix Star stirs—you will meet your destined one.”

Gao Cheng’s words flashed unbidden through his mind.

That old “Immortal Gao” might actually have some skill.

He thought:

This must be her. The one fated to be mine.

But in the next second, she dropped her gaze and, without hesitation, leapt into the water.

Duan Yunfeng froze.

She was… trying to end her life?

Without thinking, he threw down his bow, shrugged off his cloak, and dove in after her—his body moving faster than his mind.

“General?!”

The nearby guards were first shocked, then panicked. They rushed to the bank.

“General!”

“You don’t even know how to swim!!!”