Next day, as the army was organized and provisions prepared, Cao Ang and others hadn’t left Chang’an when they heard wails within Chang’an City. To be honest, representatives of the younger generation of Cao Army, led by Cao Ang, were quite terrified at that moment.

"Could it be that Changqian is gone?" Xiahou Shang said, looking at Cao Ang with a horrified expression.

"What nonsense are you spouting!" Cao Ang retorted with dissatisfaction, but inwardly he had his doubts. Seeing Xun Yun faint off his horse yesterday, it wasn’t entirely impossible for him to have died today.

"Perhaps we shouldn’t leave just yet and go back to check on him. After all, he is our friend," Cheng Wu suggested to Cao Ang, though he was somewhat superstitious; losing a comrade right after mobilizing wasn’t a good omen.

"Hey, isn’t it time for your departure already? Why are you still lingering around?" Just as the group hesitated whether to go back, a carriage approached and blocked the path diagonally ahead of the army. Xun Yun poked his head out of the window, curiously asking the hesitant youths.

"Why are you here?" Dian Mann was startled; he truly thought that the mournful music from Chang’an City today was for Xun Yun.

"I’m here to see you off," Xun Yun said, puzzled, as he looked at Dian Mann. Then, hearing the mourning music in Chang’an City himself, his face darkened, "Surely you didn’t think I died so quickly!"

"No, no, we didn’t think that at all," Cao Ang and others shook their heads repeatedly, indicating they never had such thoughts. Xun Yun was inwardly frustrated but couldn’t voice it.

"You better hurry, don’t miss the hour," Xun Yue retracted his gaze from the window and waved towards Cao Ang and others, then left. He wasn’t suited for long-distance movements; it could end in tragedy.

On the road northward, Cao Ang was noticeably silent. He already knew who had died. Different from the previous day’s confusion, things became clearer to Cao Ang after the person’s death, but it was meaningless since the person was already gone.

In Chang’an, within Weiyang Palace, Liu Xie glanced at a letter presented by Fuu Wan’s son and threw it on the ground without reading it. He was still furious; the humiliation he suffered the previous day hadn’t dissipated yet. He even scolded Empress Fuu when he saw her last night.

"Your Majesty, my father passed away last night and left a letter for Your Majesty at the end of his life. I also ask Your Majesty to allow my sister to return to Fuu Family to mourn," Fuu Lang said bowing.

Fuu Lang knew this was not according to etiquette, but he didn’t care. His father devoted his life to the Han Dynasty, exhausting every effort until his death, yet landed in such a plight where Liu Xie didn’t even utter a word of comfort. He finally understood the meaning of disillusionment.

Liu Xie was taken aback, slowly bent down to pick up the letter, tears welled up inexplicably in his eyes. Sometimes, only after losing something do people realize its value.

"Has Marquis Buqi passed away?" Liu Xie murmured, "Allow his descendants to choose a son to inherit the title, bury him with the rites of Duke Wang, allow the Empress to return to Fuu Family to mourn, and observe a three-month mourning period."

Fuu Lang expressed apparent gratitude, yet his eyes, showing almost no change, reflected his true feelings. The Fuu Family owed nothing to Liu Family. They had served the Han Dynasty for a lifetime and ended up in this situation, indeed needing to seek a new path for their Fuu Family.

It wasn’t long before Empress Fuu was brought back to Fuu Family. As for Dong Cheng and others, they all arrived one after another. While the Fuu Family descendants weren’t friendly towards the Emperor, they maintained respect for Dong Cheng, though this respect didn’t alter their intentions.

After burying Fuu Wan with rites befitting a Duke Wang, the descendants of the Fuu Family recalled their officials from various locations, then sealed their doors, preparing to observe a three-year mourning period. During this time, the Fuu Family refused involvement in any external affairs, closing their doors tightly.

Clearly, the Fuu Family’s younger generation was not foolish. They understood what they were facing and chose to retreat prudently in the face of challenges. As for Fuu Shou, she hadn’t thought much about all this, but her three-month mourning period would become a remarkable transformation in her life.

[It has nearly come to an end; I never expected it to conclude with Marquis Buqi’s death.] Yang Biao chanted his elegy quietly as he pondered.

[Son of Heaven of Han.] Zhong Yao inserted incense into the burner, contemplating silently, his expression inexplicably somber.

[I’ve been navigating the edges of various powers for many years, and finally, I should choose a destination.] Zhong Yao thought to himself, [I once hoped to support the Han Dynasty, but alas, heaven doesn’t follow one’s wishes. Ah, Liu Xie, what exactly are you supporting?]

In the funeral hall of Fuu Wan, countless ministers who were previously indecisive finally made up their minds. The Han Dynasty can still be helped, but Liu Xie cannot!

Even quite a few people were silently considering whether to propose Liu Bei as Emperor. After all, in this era, Liu Bei was powerful within the Imperial Clan and held unmistakable strength. No matter how one viewed it, if the Emperor were to lose virtue again in the future, Liu Bei would be the most suitable replacement.

The Han Dynasty can still be saved, but Liu Xie cannot. All Han officials who understood the nature of the Southern Huns affair through Fuu Wan’s death were mentally prepared.

Of course, they wouldn’t disclose their suspicions to anyone, even if they knew it was the Emperor’s order. They wouldn’t speak of it, because the Han Dynasty still stood. Fuu Wan’s death had forestalled such scandal, and the others were not ignorant.