Nightwatcher-Chapter 468: Funeral Rites

# 468. Funeral Rites

Xu Qi’an was slightly taken aback, then his gaze turned razor-sharp. He stared at the middle-aged official and said in a low voice, “This joke isn’t funny.”

That line, to his ears, was as if someone had just said: your father is dead.

If not for his understanding of the Prime Minister’s character, Xu Qi’an would’ve thought he was deliberately provoking him. But precisely because he knew the Prime Minister would never do such a thing, he was even angrier, more confused, more sullen.

The middle-aged official lowered his head slightly and said in a dull, heavy voice:

“Duke Wei fell in battle at the Church of the Warlock God’s main stronghold, Mount Jing City. Of a hundred thousand soldiers, only sixteen thousand made it back… It came by eight-hundred li urgent dispatch, it only arrived this evening.”

After he finished, he received no response for a long time. The official raised his eyes and saw an ashen face.

“His Majesty and the ministers will be discussing this at court this morning. The subsequent reports will arrive in the capital one after another... since sir has received the message, I’ll take my leave now.”

He bowed, then turned and left.

…

Creak…

Zhong Li heard the door open and sleepily raised her head. Seeing that it was Xu Qi’an, she relaxed and went back to sleep.

Senior Sister Zhong cared a great deal about her sleep. It wasn’t because sleep-deprived women aged faster, it was because lack of sleep could trigger sudden health issues, such as heart attacks or sudden death.

In those moments, life and death hung by a thread. Not even the Sitianjian’s medicines could necessarily be administered in time.

Of course, such cases were rare, but Senior Sister Zhong was experienced and knew how to protect herself. She wouldn’t allow herself to fall into such danger.

Dawn broke swiftly. After a brief nap, Zhong Li awoke on time. She sat up lazily and stretched her voluptuous, mature figure. Then she suddenly froze.

By the desk sat a figure, as still and silent as a sculpture that had existed since the dawn of time.

He had been sitting there ever since returning to the room! Zhong Li realised this and cautiously observed him. This man was showing a side of himself she had never seen, so solitary, so quiet.

Like a traveller adrift in a foreign land.

…

At that moment, in the imperial court, Jinluan Hall.

Civil and military officials passed through the Meridian Gate and crossed Jinshui Bridge in a sombre atmosphere, each stopping at their appointed place according to rank.

The senior ministers ascended the vermilion steps and entered the grand and ornate Jinluan Hall.

Today’s court session was late, due to an emergency. It was almost dawn when the palace began summoning the capital’s officials one by one. No excuses were accepted, not even illness. Unless you were dead, you’d be coming in even if you had to be carried.

It must be something major!

The veteran officials immediately sensed the urgency of the situation.

The senior ministers filed into Jinluan Hall in an orderly fashion, forming neat rows, silent and still. At that moment, the Prime Minister slowly turned his head to glance to the left, where no one stood. That place should have been occupied by a figure in azure.

Since Wei Yuan had marched to war, this was the first time the Prime Minister had done such a thing.

A few sharp-eyed officials were thoughtful.

A quarter of an hour later, Emperor Yuanjing entered from behind the hall. He was no longer in his Daoist robe but wore a bright yellow dragon robe.

The moment they saw him, the ministers were stunned. The old emperor, who had restored his black hair, looked radiant and healthy from cultivation success, now appeared like a man who had just suffered the greatest blow of his life.

His eyes were filled with concealed grief, dull and lifeless. His skin was dry and lacked lustre; he looked utterly haggard.

*This…* The ministers’ pupils contracted.

A senior eunuch stepped forward and declared in a loud voice, “If there are matters to present, step forward.”

As his voice fell, the Prime Minister stepped out and said gravely:

“Your Majesty, an urgent report has arrived from the northeast. Wei Yuan led the army deep into enemy territory, took the Church of the Warlock God’s headquarters, and gave his life for the country. Of a hundred thousand troops, only sixteen thousand made it back…”

The hall was filled with stunned, expressionless faces. A few seconds later, Jinluan Hall erupted into an uproar.

“Silence!”

The old eunuch cracked his whip against the smooth floor, the sound sharp and loud.

Yet he could not suppress the ministers’ commotion.

Just as the Prime Minister had lost his composure when he first heard the terrible news, so too did the ministers. Some things could not be met with calmness, no matter how composed one was.

The near-total annihilation of a hundred thousand troops was a devastating blow, one that shook the very foundation of the Great Feng.

And what truly unsettled the ministers and caused their collective loss of composure was the sacrifice of the Great Feng’s God of War, the man in azure.

Never mind that Wei Yuan’s political opponents frequently shouted: “Your Majesty, have this scoundrel executed!”

In truth, whether they liked it or not, in all their hearts, even the Wang Clique, his political foes, recognised that Wei Yuan was the true pillar of the realm.

King Huai was a third-rank martial artist. He could defend a region, but to bear the weight of the Great Feng, he fell short.

Only Wei Yuan, the man who had won the war at Shanhai Pass, was truly feared by the great powers of Jiuzhou. Twenty years ago, he had beaten them soundly.

And painfully.

The Zhenbei King? Back then, he had merely been a foil at Wei Yuan’s side, barely worthy of mention.

Now, that pillar of the realm had fallen…

The ministers instinctively didn’t want to believe it, but military reports at the level of eight-hundred li urgency, in the enitre six hundred year history of the Great Feng, have never reported wrong. A mistake would mean a capital crime, no room for error.

Emperor Yuanjing silently watched it all, neither joyous nor sorrowful.

He waited a long, long time. Only when the clamour in the hall gradually faded did he speak, his expression full of pain: “My lords, what should we do about this matter?”

It was once more the Prime Minister who responded. His tone was firm, and his words rang out:

“Your servant believes we should gather troops from all provinces, mobilise the nation’s full strength, and march northeast. Join forces with the yao and the barbarians and sweep away the Church of the Warlock God in one strike.”

Emperor Yuanjing sighed, “The Great Feng has already lost nearly a hundred thousand men. They were all my people, my children. Lord Wang, how can I bear to start another war?”

“Your Majesty!”

The Prime Minister raised his voice, overcome with emotion:

“According to the report, Wei Yuan has already taken Mount Jing City. The Church of the Warlock God suffered devastating losses, nearly seventy percent of their experts were killed at their main altar. Yan has been pierced through the belly, and our troops stand at their gates. Those hard-to-take cities have already fallen to Wei Yuan.

“Jing has fought in the north for months, suffering heavy casualties and being tied down by the northern yao barbarians. Only Kang has preserved its forces. If we fight now, within a hundred years, the Church of the Warlock God will be no threat to the Great Feng’s descendants.”

His proposal won the support of some nobles and generals.

Wei Yuan had exhausted the national strength of the Church of the Warlock God and taken their headquarters. The treacherous barrier that had hindered the Great Feng’s army was no more. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

“Lord Wang…”

Emperor Yuanjing waved his hand and said earnestly, “We’ve already worn out our strength in reckless warfare.”

Prime Minister Wang, looked up at the emperor seated upon the dragon throne, opened his mouth, then stepped back in silence.

With this retreat, the wheels of history turned in a new direction. When later generations looked back on this chapter, comparing the national strength and losses of the Great Feng and the Church of the Warlock God, they all agreed: had the Great Feng steeled itself, had it been willing to spend the next decade of its resources in total war against the Church of the Warlock God, then that great power in the northeast that controlled sixty thousand li would collapse one and for all, never to regain their strength.

Countless people would sigh in pity.

As for the azure-robed god of war who fell at Mount Jing City, the history books would say: “He bought the Central Plains a moment of breath.”

Emperor Yuanjing no longer looked at Prime Minister Wang, who was stepping back into line, but turned his gaze to the assembled officials. “What do my lords all believe should be done in the aftermath?”

The Minister of War stepped forward, saluted, and said, “Your servant believes we should draw twenty thousand troops from the provinces neighbouring Xiang, Jing, and Yu, station them at the border, and leave the remaining forces there to guard against retaliation from the Church of the Warlock God.

“In addition, since Duke Wei has fallen, Your Majesty must appoint another to take command.”

Emperor Yuanjing looked at him. Seeing that he did not continue, the emperor nodded. “Well said, Lord Chen.”

At that moment, the Assistant Minister of War, Qin Yuandao, stepped forward and said, “If Your Majesty wishes for peace, we must promptly discuss the matter and confirm the envoy to be sent north for negotiations.”

Qin Yuandao was a staunch member of the Emperor’s faction, closely aligned with Yuan Xiong, the impeached former Censorate official. The two were the core members.

The Minister of War, a member of the Wei clique, glared fiercely at Qin Yuandao.

He had deliberately avoided mentioning peace, because deep down he still wanted one more battle with the Church, to avenge Wei Yuan.

Emperor Yuanjing slowly nodded. “Very well.”

After Qin Yuandao returned to his place, the Minister of Revenue immediately stepped forward and said, “How shall we handle compensation for the fallen soldiers?”

With this, the hall fell silent.

For a long time, no one spoke.

Emperor Yuanjing slowly said, “What do my lords propose?”

He asked three times, and no one responded.

The emperor looked to Yuan Xiong, his loyal attendant. Yuan Xiong’s eyes darted, but he said nothing.

Compensation involved far more than money. According to the Great Feng’s laws, infantrymen killed in battle would receive three years of full rations, thirty-six *dan* of rice, for their families, equivalent to eighteen taels of silver, followed by a lifelong monthly stipend of three to six *dou*.

For cavalry, the compensation was seventy-two *dan*, or thirty-six taels, with six to ten *dou* per month thereafter.

Higher ranks and different branches received different amounts, all strictly regulated.

But there was another rule that silenced everyone in the court:

If the battle was deemed a defeat, compensation would be halved.

The Minister of Revenue’s question only scratched the surface, what truly paralysed the officials was the implication: how was this battle to be defined?

Was it a victory, or a defeat?

Amidst the silence, Prime Minister Wang stepped forward and said with sorrow, “Wei Yuan took the Church’s headquarters, a first in Great Feng’s history. This battle was a decisive victory for our nation.”

Some agreed at once, some pondered, others were overcome with grief.

Emperor Yuanjing nodded slowly, but did not answer Prime Minister Wang. Instead, he said, “We feel weary. This matter is too great to decide now. We will continue tomorrow.”

The chief eunuch cried, “Court dismissed!”

…

*Knock knock…*

There were two lifeless knocks on the door, even the knocker seemed spiritless.

Second Uncle Xu woke from his day of rest, glanced at his sleeping wife beside him, the knocks were soft, so they hadn’t disturbed her.

Given his level of cultivation, even the faintest stir outside would wake him.

He left the warm bed, pulled on a robe, and opened the outer door.

“Ningyan?”

His nephew stood there, expressionless, with gloom etched between his brows.

Second Uncle’s heart sank. He knew his nephew too well; just a look or a tone was enough for him to understand.

No one knows a child better than a parent. Having raised him through hardship, he was as a son to him.

“Uncle, pack up quickly. Go to Cloud Deer Academy. Go there, just… just lie low for now,” Xu Qi’an said softly.

Second Uncle looked deeply at him. “Alright.”

Xu Qi’an nodded and turned to knock on Li Miaozhen’s door.

A snow-white dress, eyes like black lacquer, lips like cinnabar, Susu, the stunning older-sisterly beauty, opened the door and asked sweetly, “What is it?”

Inside, Li Miaozhen, in flowing Daoist robes and her hair coiled up, sat at the table sipping tea and nibbling on pastries.

Xu Qi’an ignored Susu. His eyes went past the beauty and landed on Li Miaozhen. He said slowly, “I want to go to the northeast.”

Li Miaozhen was stunned. “You’re joining the war too?”

He shook his head gently. “Duke Wei… died on the battlefield.”

Her face froze, the pastry falling from her hand.

Then she came to her senses and looked nervously at Xu Qi’an, knowing how deeply he trusted and respected Wei Yuan.

She knew how great a debt he owed Wei Yuan.

For a moment, she didn’t know how to comfort him, any words would seem like empty sympathy.

Xu Qi’an said quietly, “I don’t believe it. I don’t believe he died in battle, so please take me to the border. If… if he really is dead…”

He paused, his eyes seeming to blur for a moment. “He had no wife, no children. There’s no one to see him off. I have to go… I must go…”

Li Miaozhen’s heart twisted in pain. “Alright.”