6.50 - Refuge and Return

Together, they approached Jiankang. Or what remained. Smoke from dozens of fires rose to the heavens. Most densely from one quarter of the city, but other fires had either spread or broken out over the course of the battle. As He Yu approached the ruined walls, he braced himself for what he was certain to find. He’d known what this plan would do, and he’d put it forward as the only way. While it had worked, and Jin Xifeng lay dead behind them, that meant the costs had real.

Alongside Chen Fei and Li Heng, he passed over the armies of the Jade Kingdom and the Western Passage filtering into the city below. Soldiers spread out among the half-crumbled buildings, picked their way of the bodies of fallen defenders, and established the coming order. He Yu kept his eyes forward. Fixed on the palace, and the central square where the others waited for them.

In his immortal sight, he could see them arrayed at the base of the steps leading up to the palace proper. Flanked by two shattered stone lions, and countless bodies of what he assumed were Sixth and Seventh Realm experts. Time slowed to a crawl as they flew over the city, and He Yu beheld the fruits of his plan. Ruined homes, streets stained with the lives of the fallen, broken and discarded weapons—all were the price they’d paid for their victory.

He Yu’s stomach clenched as he took it all in. A dissonant hum ran its way through the ever present song of the Dao of Heroism. An acknowledgment of what he’d done. He turned it over in his mind, piecing things together with the wisdom of a sage afforded by his heightened advancement. Yes, this had been the only way. But that didn’t mean he had to like it, or be willing to ever repeat it.

When he landed in the plaza before the imperial palace, the others all saluted as one. Tan Zihao stood at their center, resplendent in his gilt armor and still carrying his golden, vermilion tasseled spear. His daughter stood just to his right, and slightly behind him. On his left, Li Renshu stood with hands folded in the sleeves of his blue robes. Zhang Lifen, Ren Huang, and Yi Xiurong stood in a small cluster a short distance off, conferring amongst themselves. Yan Shirong made a show of examining his nails from within his cloud of shadows and eyes.

Again, He Yu’s discomfort spiked. He knew what this all meant. Looking up to the palace rising behind them with its gilt roof tiles and carved pillars, its broad stairs and vermilion gate, he took a deep breath. No going back now.

Tan Zihao was the first to recognize him. He stepped forward and clasped his fist in salute, bowing just enough to show respect to a superior while also maintaining his own station. “Tan Zihao, King of the Jade Kingdom, the White Desert, and the mountains beyond, greets Emperor He. May our friendship encompass all of heaven and earth.”

Li Renshu stepped forward next. As he made to give He Yu face as Tan Zihao had, He Yu held up a hand to silence him.

“I’m not the emperor.”

Protests and questions alike erupted from all gathered. Tan Zihao frowned. Li Renshu’s mouth worked like a fish pulled from a river. Of all present, only Zhang Lifen seemed unsurprised. He Yu should have expected as much. If anyone present, except perhaps Chen Fei and Li Heng, could have anticipated what he’d choose here, it would be her.

“I don’t want to rule,” he said after he’d managed to calm everyone down enough they’d let him speak. “I have no desire for it, and I think it would probably kill me, besides. Out of boredom, or out of desperation to make myself truly useful. Or whatever. I’m not taking the throne. Not taking the empire. I don’t want any of it.”

“I, for one, can’t think of anyone more qualified,” said Yi Xiurong. “I spent forty years watching you administer a broken realm in the trials Yunchang set before us. You have the makings of a truly just ruler.

The Peerless Judgment showed He Yu her intent. She’d grossly misread his decision, taking it to mean that he doubted himself. He didn’t doubt anything. At least not in this.

He met her eyes. “I can think of someone more qualified.” She paled, and he let the matter drop.

Li Renshu seemed to find his voice then, having somehow completely missed his exchange with Yi Xiurong. “You would condemn the empire to chaos! The noble clans will tear themselves apart, fighting over succession. Someone must sit on the dragon throne. That is the will of heaven. Having slain Jin Xifeng, the throne is yours, by right of strength. Do you have any idea what refusing it means?”

“I know exactly what it means.”

“Then why?” Tan Zihao asked with a frown. An undercurrent of wary anger ran through his words. He Yu could understand the king’s concerns. Assisting him and the Li had come with the implicit understanding that He Yu would then ascend the throne, and act as a friend to the Jade Kingdom rather than an overlord. Refusal to take the empire for himself threw Tan Zihao’s entire political calculus into doubt.

“Ruling an empire isn’t very heroic,” was all he said.

The others burst into protest once again, mostly led by Li Renshu, Tan Zihao, and Yi Xiurong. While they threw their arguments at him, a conversation in knowing glances and nods passed between Tan Xiaoling and Li Heng. Once it had concluded, the princess gave He Yu her crooked, half-smirk and a slight nod.

Zhang Lifen’s voice cut through the chorus of disagreement and debate. “Perhaps we should let him explain himself. If I know my once-disciple as well as I think, there’s more to this than he’s let on.”

He Yu flashed her a thankful smile as the others quieted down. “Of course, I’ll stay in the capital while things calm down. And I do this on the condition that the deal between the Li and the Tan be honored. Namely, the Western Passage be allowed to choose its own future, under whatever arrangements have been made between Li Renshu and King Tan. As for the empire itself, I bestow it to Yi Xiurong.”

“Excuse me, what?” Yi Xiurong half shouted, clearly before she remembered herself.

He Yu couldn’t help but smile at her loss of control. It was the single, most humanizing thing he’d ever seen her do. “You heard me,” he said. “The Dao of Radiance is what the empire needs. Once you told me yourself that your Dao was neither kind nor cruel. But it was just. A firm hand is what the empire needs after all this. And I don’t have it in me to do what’s necessary.” He turned then to face the city, the dead bodies, and the ruined homes and walls. “But I have faith in you. For how long did you run the day-to-day of the Shrouded Peaks Sect? Forty years you spent guiding me when I had to play Grand Chancellor in the trial set to us by the Azure Dragon. I can think of no one better to guide the Dragon Empire back to prosperity and just, harmonious rule.”

“But I have no family. No clan. I would need to advance before I would have any hope of holding the throne. I am alone, and more vulnerable than even you would be.” Her voice hitched a little as she spoke. Now that the weight of having to push always forward while being hunted by Jin Xifeng had been lifted, for the first time in decades, she was allowed to feel the weight of her life since the fall of the sect. He Yu felt for her.

“As I said, you’ll have my support. And I would hope,” he added, meeting Tan Zihao’s golden eyes, “the support of your closest ally, Tan Zihao.”

The old tiger broke out into raucous laughter. “You’d have made a good politician, Yu! Of course, I would gladly support the rule of Empress Yi. Our friendship will be as legendary as it is long-lived.”

Yi Xiurong squared her shoulders, the severe expression that was her default falling back over her features, concealing anything else she might have felt. “I suppose I don’t have much choice in this, do I?”

“Not unless you want to see the empire fall into chaos,” Zhang Lifen said with that familiar airiness of hers. “I think He Yu has you right where he wants you.”

“Then I accept,” she said.

He Yu clasped his fist and bowed. “This He Yu greets Empress Yi.”

The others paid their respects, and although Yi Xiurong was still clearly not entirely comfortable about being thrust upon the throne, she accepted it graciously. When they’d all finished, He Yu spoke up again.

“One last thing. A recommendation, if I may,” he said. “You’ll need a good ministerial corps if you want to succeed. May I suggest my friend Yan Shirong? He has many talents you might find useful.”

Yan Shirong scowled at him. “Of course, you would want to condemn me to a life of drudgery here in the capital. Fine. I accept. You’ll need to rebuild the Ministry of Information, and swiftly. I can certainly handle at least that for you.”

Finally, He Yu allowed himself to relax. The empire’s future was as secure as it could be, and he didn’t have to shoulder that burden. Prosperity and harmony would rule the land, and he could go fill his own destiny. “And before we get too distracted with the work of rebuilding, I’d like to ask you a favor, Yan Shirong.”

“What’s that?” he asked, his inflection flat, and clearly suspicious of He Yu’s intent.

“Nothing too large,” he said. “I just need you to track down some people and get some messages out.”

*

He Gang crested the ring of mountains, and finally laid eyes on their destination. The cultivators that escorted him—all fully at Nascent Soul and swathed in golden robes adorned with clouds and great dragons—had been shockingly deferential when they’d arrived at his workshop, asking after him specifically. Imagine his shock when they said they’d been sent by his son. “Sect Leader He,” they’d called him. At first he thought it was some hoax, or a cruel trick, but when they produced a letter that explained everything, he packed up his forge, and went with them.

The valley below blazed with qi. He’d known it would, the moment he sensed the great formation script running along the mountain peaks that guarded this place. A formation script unlike any he’d ever come across. Truly the work of a master. On the far side of the valley, a thunderstorm raged. The black clouds flashed with lightning in every color imaginable, and more than a few that were beyond imagination. A waterfall plunged down the sheer mountainside below the storm, clearly fed by the endless, torrential rain. To the north of the valley, a mountain peak easily twice as tall as any of those surrounding it—the tallest He Gang had laid eyes on during their entire trek through the Jade Mountains to arrive here—pierced the heavens above.

Through the thick forest canopy that covered the valley floor was broken only by the occasional pavilion rising from among the trees. His spiritual perception let him pick out the formation enhanced paths that ran through the grounds of what he’d learned on the journey was the Cloud Dragon Valley Sect. The sect that, apparently, his son led.

The descent along the mountain path leading into the valley proper was far easier than it should have been for a man his age. But he was at the peak of Body Refining. Half a step into Golden Core, well over a hundred years old, and in better health than he really had any right to be. That was thanks to He Yu. The spirit stones He Yu had given him before sending him away from Shulin had been more than enough to see him through the rest of the First Realm, and all of the Second. The work he’d done in those decades, smithing divine treasures for cultivators, had paid him well enough that he’d scraped together enough advancement resources to make it the rest of the way on his own.

Still, in all that time, he’d thought his son lost.

The last he’d seen of He Yu, he’d fled after crippling Dong Wei, chased by that bastard of a governor. For the second time in his life, he’d thought his son dead. Xin Lu had been two full stages above He Yu then, something that should have been an insurmountable difference. But no, his son had somehow lived. Lived to return at the head of an army—accompanied by Tan Zihao of the Jade Kingdom, of all people—and then lead a rebellion against Jin Xifeng.

Then he’d disappeared for twenty years. The Ministry of Information spread the official proclamation that he’d been killed by none other than Jin Xifeng’s right hand, Long Tingguang. For the third time in his life, He Gang mourned his son.

But then, after twenty years, rumors of a cultivator wielding the storm and blessed by the dragon of heaven itself had spread through the southern empire. Where He Gang had fled to after leaving Shulin. Although he never got confirmation, he dared to hope. The stalemate of the rebellion in the northwest broke, and the Western Passage marched on Jiankang along with the Jade Kingdom.

Nobody in the empire missed the battle that occurred outside the capital.

For weeks, the eastern half of the empire was cast into eternal twilight. A blood-red sun hung unmoving in the sky, and all the world was suffused with the impending dread of a creeping grave. In the west raged a storm like no other. Heaven lit the blackened clouds, and even He Gang, watching from the far south, caught glimpses of the great dragon within.

Then it was over.

Silence. As if the whole of heaven and earth held its breath in anticipation of what came next.

And what came next was the ascension of the last remaining scion of the Yi to the dragon throne as the rightful Empress Yi Xiurong of the restored Dragon Empire. He Gang knew how the world worked. He knew how imperial succession passed. If his son lived, he would be emperor, surely. For the fourth time in his heavens-cursed life, He Gang mourned for his son.

But then they had arrived. Four Nascent Soul experts clad in robes of gold silk arrived at his humble workshop. They saluted him, and said they’d been selected for the honor of escorting him to his new home in the Cloud Dragon valley. The trip north, then across the White Desert, and finally through the Jade Mountains, had been enlightening, to say the least.

Still, He Gang couldn’t bring himself to believe. At least not until he stepped out from the trees, into the central courtyard before a grand pavilion, and saw with his own eyes.

He Yu, his son, stood with his fist clasped before him in salute. Arrayed behind him were several hundred cultivators, all in the same golden robes as the four who’d escorted He Gang all this way. All of them had their fists clasped in salute, too. As he crossed the courtyard with stumbling, uncertain steps, He Gang worked his mouth as he struggled to find words.

All of them saluting him. On one side of his son stood to truly strange figures. One was a full head taller than the tallest man he’d ever seen. But instead of a human face, the figure had what looked to be a tiny storm cloud wearing a scholar’s cap. He Gang couldn’t see the figure’s hands, as they were folded within the sleeves of its steel-gray robes, but he’d no doubt they were equally strange.

The other figure was dressed in a manner similar to the gathered sect disciples. Golden robes, but of significantly higher quality. He had white hair, but also horns that swept back from his brow. He Gang swallowed as he briefly met the being’s eyes—for this creature surely wasn’t human. Golden and slit pupiled, with sclera black as the best ink. He Gang shuddered at the absolute lack of a spiritual presence from this being.

Further out from those two strange creatures were another pair of experts. One he recognized. Zhang Lifen, the woman who’d simply appeared one day, and swept his son away. She was dressed in a gold silk gown with pale blue accents. Next to her stood one of the largest men He Gang had ever seen. Also, one of the angriest-looking. He was dressed in all gold and red, and he wore his robes open, leaving his chest bare.

Instead, he returned his attention to his son. And the girl he’d brought with him to Shulin all those years ago. Well, woman. Both his son and Chen Fei looked not a day over thirty. Yet they both had an air of dignity and power He Gang had only ever seen in the most advanced experts.

A thundering shout rose up from the gathered disciples. “The Cloud Dragon Valley Sect greets Sect Leader He’s honored father!” As one, they bowed. To him.

Finally, He Gang drew close enough that he could see. Reach out and touch. He grasped his son’s hands. Just to be certain.

“I’m sorry,” He Yu said. “I’d have sent for you sooner, but there was so much to do. I had to ensure things were stable in the empire before coming here. Yongnian,” he waved one hand toward the spirit with a cloud for its head, “took care of most of the initial work rebuilding the Cloud Dragon Valley Sect. Sun Lei,” he waved at what must surely be a dragon in human form, “helped a great deal, too. But he ultimately decided he’d rather not run things, so he put me in charge once I arrived. Then there was so much more to do. Had to ensure the surrounding area was safe enough that you could make the journey. Zhang Lifen and Ren Huang have been a tremendous help, as have Li Heng and Tan Xiaoling, whenever they can make it all the way out here from Jade Mountain Citadel.”

Before He Gang could reply, a tiny hand grasped at He Yu’s robes. Then a head poked into the space between He Yu and Chen Fei. A child with wide eyes that reminded He Gang so much of his son stared up at him.

“No need to be shy, Yunru,” He Yu said. “Come, say hello to your grandfather.”

He Gang closed his eyes to fight back the tears. For the first time since his son had left for the Shrouded Peaks Sect, he was home. Home at last, and finally, he had a family again.

The End