Emperor Zhao Long
Hall of Festivals, The Palace
One, two, three, four, and five. Five dumplings lay on his plate, arranged in the same order his five sons sat across the room. The dumplings looked succulent enough to tempt him, but inside lay the very fillings he despised most.
Just like his princes. Shiny and glitter on the outside, yet within was not the gold that glittered. What was it if not disappointing?
Where were the people that praised him daily that he was the most blessed emperor, the son of Heaven that was highly favoured, to receive princes in a row from his empress. Where were they? Because he would like to rage at them for getting his hopes up.
No wonder they say a chicken must not count its eggs before they hatch. Because none of the revered princes would come to anything of praise. The prestige of the Dong royal name could possibly die with him.
Dong Zhen Feng, his first born, the crown prince. He was the perfect leader to be, a warrior that knew the battle field and won countless battles to bring glory home. His mind was more than the standard, knowing how to control and pacify the court system. No one had anything ugly they could speak against him, but that is because none knew of the terminal disease that brewed within him. It was yet to be seen who would win the race to the grave between father and son.
Dong Yu Cheng, the second prince with the mind of a prodigy that had none who could challenge him with knowledge. People gossipped that he was born holding a book he was reading inside the womb, and at the age of one, he was already educating persons decades older than him.
Impressive indeed, yet he could not differentiate between the bottom or handle of the sword. What emperor would he become if he could not war on the battlefield?
Despicable how his hands were softer than the buttocks of a newborn.
It was tiring to think about it. The Third Prince was a cripple. Fourth Prince had debauchery as his first name and laziness as his surname. The Fifth Prince knew only to eat if not sleeping.
Incompetent!
All of them were incompetent.
"Your Majesty," the Empress interrupted his thoughts, "must you scowl and frown every time you look at the princes?"
He hmphed as his hand became a fist.
"Look at Fourth Prince, all he knows to do is gawk at the palace maids and dancers, what did you teach him as he grew up?" he gritted.
The empress followed his stare from beside him to find Fourth Prince eyeing the buttocks of a passing maid. She awkwardly cleared her throat, and focused on eating her food pretending to not have seen.
Spending time in sight of his sons always made him feel like he was losing his mind. Whatever sins he committed for the Heavens to punish him like this, at least the curse ended with only five of his princes. Because to the far right of the five princes sat the unseen prince, Dong Ming Yu.
He was the son of Consort Mei Lin, therefore unrecognized by people due to his mother's lower status to the Empress. Yet he was the perfect prince that could handle going to war, alongside possessing good character. Nothing could be raised against him as a disadvantage if not for being the Consort's son.
Though her sons were incompetent, Empress Shu Ying would never allow another woman's son to become emperor. It had to be her son, no matter the misgivings.
Emperor Zhao Long blamed himself. If he had not fallen for the doe eyes she gave when they met, he would not have chained himself to Shu Ying and made her empress.
The woman enjoyed fame, and her greed had no ending. She would not easily give up the throne to another that is not her son. Not when she had a strong backing, where her father was the Prime Minister with much influence in the court.
"Your Majesty," Eunuch Ling kowtowed before him, "Her Majesty Chidi is about to arrive."
The emperor quickly stood up.
"Is that so?" he smiled.
Everyone rose with him per etiquette as the announcer shouted, "Her Majesty Chidi arrives!"
At once, everyone in the hall went on their knees as the High Immortal Ascendant of War, Chidi Yun Xi, entered the hall. Silence consumed the hall for different reasons.
Those who loved her remembered the dad's remnants she had brought home. Those who revered her remembered the victories she had claimed without boasting. Those who respected her knew this: when she entered a room, history entered with her.
She entered in robes the color of washed cloud-ink. The fabric was plain, its folds unbroken, moving only as much as her steps required.
At her waist hung a jade token, clear and faintly luminous, untouched by ornament or seal. Nothing about her demanded attention, yet the space seemed to narrow around her all the same.
Her face bore no trace of age. It was calm, unweathered, as if time had passed beside her rather than over her. Chidi Yun Xi, the High Immortal who was more than 100,000 years of age, had people start to believe that her existence began with the earth itself.
As long as the earth was there, she would live. Which was why Qilin made a song for her that said:
From her robes the moon took its quiet light
From her bearing the sun took its order
She stands above them both
This was the immortal general who had stood watch over borders that no longer existed. Because where she stood, even history kept its distance.
The emperor did not have to kneel for her. It was said he was the son of Heaven, therefore no one was above him. Yet his reverence for her would not allow him to stand before her, so he subjected himself to a bow.
"High Immortal, this place is beneath you for you to let your feet walk and tread on it!" the Emperor welcomed her.
Her face barely moved, and whether she smiled or frowned, one could not tell.
"Your Majesty honors me. I walk where duty remains," she replied.
The people stayed on their knees without a word. To greet the High Immortal, who was worthy?
But unexpectedly, laughter began to ring. It was sharp, ill-timed, and far too light for the weight of the hall.
The Fourth Prince had covered his mouth at first, shoulders trembling, but the sound slipped through all the same. He laughed again, louder than before, as though the stillness itself amused him.
The Emperor's face drained of color. This could not be happening. Not now. Not before the High Immortal. What could get worse than this?
"Silence," he barked, but the word came a breath too late. The prince's laughter had already spread, echoing once against the pillars before breaking apart into something ugly and uncontrolled.
The Emperor pushed himself forward at once. His robes rustled as he dropped himself to the ground before the High Immortal.
"This son is ignorant," he said, bowing deeply. "His words and conduct are unworthy. I beg the High Immortal to forgive this failure of my teaching."
He bowed again. And again.
The Empress followed, lowering herself beside him, her forehead pressing to the cold stone floor.
"Please show mercy," she said, voice tight with fear. "The prince has lost himself. The fault lies with us, his parents. We beg for forgiveness!"
Behind them, the laughter faltered, then returned in broken bursts. Fourth Prince clutched at his chest now, breath uneven, eyes bright with tears he could not explain. He tried to stop, but failed.
At this point, the Emperor's ears were red with embarrassment and restrained anger. Imagine having to beg and be regretful when all you want to do is slap the sham of a son.
The ministers present did not dare look up. This was the biggest shame they had witnessed in a long time. It was obvious that before the moon struck midnight, the gossip of this spectacle would have crossed every ear in the city.
Yet throughout it all, High Immortal Yun Xi stood unmoving. She did not turn her head. She did not raise her voice.
The laughter, the apologies, the trembling audience played before her like an unamusing and boring musical play.
But at last, when the Emperor had bowed until his sleeves were damp with stone dust, she spoke.
"Rise," she said.
It was neither forgiveness nor rebuke.
The Emperor obeyed at once. If only the ground had swallowed him at once in that moment.
He understood that what had been revealed could never be taken back.
The High Immortal had not been touched. But his house had been laid bare before Heaven and all to see, mock, and laugh at.
S.V