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With the strategic directives given, the meeting concluded. The bureaucratic mountain was climbed, the campaign was planned, the future emperor's education was set, and the new province was given its first military task. Lie Fan left the office, his mind transitioning from the granular to the familial.
He returned to his private quarters to find a scene of domestic tranquility that contrasted sharply with the discussions of war.
Ying Yue, Diao Chan, Cai Wenji, Lu Lingqi, and Zhen Ji were there, no longer the sleeping beauties of the morning but vibrantly awake and present. They had not left. Instead, they had taken it upon themselves to prepare a warm, inviting dinner.
Simple, comforting dishes steamed on a low table, soups, roasted meats, vegetables, and rice, the aroma of broth and spices filling the air.
Lie Fan's expression softened immediately.
"You planned this," he said.
Ying Yue smiled. "You always forget to eat when you bury yourself in work."
Lu Lingqi crossed her arms. "Someone has to make sure you don't starve before the war even begins."
A wave of pure, unadulterated warmth washed over him. This was his sanctuary. He smiled, a genuine expression of contentment, as he joined them. He ate with relish, enjoying the food and the easy, affectionate chatter that flowed around him.
As the meal drew to a close, he set his bowl down gently. The time had come. He looked around the table, meeting the eyes of each of his wives.
"There is one more thing regarding the campaign that all of you must know," he began, his voice gentle but firm. ""Muchen will be coming with me to Hongnong."
He saw the immediate flicker of maternal alarm in Ying Yue's eyes, the concern in Diao Chan's, the surprise in the others'.
He held up a hand before any protests could form. "He will not be in danger. He will be in the most secure part of the rear camp, under the personal protection of Zhao Yun and a full division of my best soldiers. He will be safer there than he is riding within the walls of Xiapi."
Ying Yue hesitated. "Is… is it necessary?"
"Yes," Lie Fan said gently. "He needs to see what it means to rule. What it costs."
He leaned forward, his expression earnest. "He needs to understand what it truly means to send men to war, to bear the weight of decisions that cost lives. He cannot learn this from scrolls or tutors' tales. He must see the scale, hear the sounds, feel the tension. If he is to one day wear this crown and carry the burden I now carry, he must have this experience. And there is no better teacher for this lesson than being at my side while I give it."
He let the words settle, seeing the conflict on their faces, the fear of a mother, the protective instinct of a wife, warring with the understanding of women who knew the brutal realities of the world their husband ruled and the immense responsibility awaiting their son.
They looked at each other, a silent conversation passing between them. They saw the resolve in his eyes, the paternal love intertwined with grim royal duty.
Finally, Ying Yue, as Empress and mother, gave a slow, reluctant nod. It was not an enthusiastic agreement, but a somber acceptance of a hard necessity.
Diao Chan nodded faintly. "If you've decided, you've weighed it carefully."
Zhen Ji spoke softly. "Then we will trust your judgment."
Cai Wenji reached out, resting her hand lightly on his arm. "Just bring him back safely."
Lie Fan covered her hand with his own. "I will."
In that quiet, understanding silence, Lie Fan knew the last domestic hurdle was cleared. The path to Hongnong, and to the final chapter of the war for unification, was now fully open, with his son and heir walking it beside him, ready to learn the hardest lessons of empire.
Night settled gently over Xiapi, the palace lanterns glowing like patient stars amid the orderly silence of the imperial compound. The affairs of state had receded for the day, replaced by the softer rhythms of domestic life.
As agreed, Diao Chan, Cai Wenji, Lu Lingqi, and Zhen Ji rose first.
Diao Chan adjusted her sleeves gracefully, her expression calm but thoughtful. "Rest well, husband," she said, inclining her head. There was no jealousy in her eyes, only understanding. She knew exactly why this night belonged to Ying Yue.
Cai Wenji followed, her gaze lingering briefly on Lie Fan. "Tomorrow will be busy again," she said softly. "Do not overburden yourself."
Lu Lingqi snorted lightly, already turning toward the door. "If you do, we'll just drag you back ourselves."
Zhen Ji smiled faintly, offering Ying Yue a look of quiet solidarity before departing with the others. The doors to the harem wing closed behind them, leaving the chamber wrapped in a more intimate stillness.
Only Lie Fan and Ying Yue remained.
The candles were dimmed. The servants withdrew without a sound.
Ying Yue sat on the edge of the bed longer than usual, her hands folded in her lap, shoulders tense in a way she could not quite hide. She had held herself together through the dinner, through the discussion, through the moment of agreement, but now, in the quiet, the worry crept back in.
Lie Fan noticed immediately.
He approached without hurry, sitting beside her. He did not speak at first. Instead, he reached out and gently took her hands into his own, warm and steady.
"You're afraid," he said softly, not as an accusation, but as acknowledgment.
She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "He's still so young. He's seen soldiers, parades, training… but this is different. Hongnong is not a demonstration. It's war."
Lie Fan drew her closer, resting his forehead lightly against hers. "I know."
They lay down together soon after, the chamber wrapped in shadows and the faint scent of incense. Ying Yue curled slightly toward him, her head resting against his chest. Lie Fan held her with care, one arm firm around her shoulders, the other brushing slow, reassuring strokes through her hair.
In the quiet, he leaned closer, his voice barely audible.
"I swear to you," he whispered, "nothing will happen to Muchen. Not while I live. Not while Zhao Yun draws breath. He will remain in the safest part of the rear camp, guarded day and night. He will see, but he will not be exposed."
Ying Yue's fingers tightened briefly in his robe. "War doesn't always listen to promises."
"No," Lie Fan agreed. "But I do."
He shifted slightly so she could hear the steady rhythm of his heart. "Every order I give, every risk I take, I will weigh his safety first. He is my son. Our son. I would sooner place myself in the path of a thousand blades than let one reach him."
Her breathing gradually slowed. The tension in her shoulders eased, little by little, as his words sank in, not as empty reassurance, but as solemn vows spoken by a man who had never broken one lightly.
"And Zhao Yun," he continued gently, knowing that name carried weight with her. "You know him. You trust him. He will never allow harm to come to Muchen. Not even at the cost of his own life."
That, more than anything, steadied her.
Ying Yue exhaled, long and slow, her eyelids finally growing heavy. "Just… bring him back to me," she murmured.
Lie Fan pressed a kiss to her hair. "I will bring him back stronger, wiser, and alive."
It was only then that Ying Yue finally surrendered to sleep, her breathing evening out, her grip loosening as dreams took her. Lie Fan remained awake a while longer, watching her face soften in rest. When he was certain she slept peacefully, a faint smile touched his lips.
Only then did he allow himself to sleep as well.
Morning light filtered through silk curtains, pale and unhurried.
Lie Fan awoke to quiet movement beside him. Ying Yue was already up, sitting at the vanity table, her reflection framed by polished bronze. She wore a simple robe, her long hair falling freely down her back as she brushed it with slow, measured strokes.
For a moment, he simply watched.
She looked calmer than the night before, though the concern had not vanished entirely, it lingered beneath the surface, tempered now by resolve.
Lie Fan rose quietly and crossed the room. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of her head.
"Good morning," he said softly.
She smiled faintly at his reflection. "Good morning."
He did not linger. After a brief wash and a change into formal attire, dark robes embroidered subtly with imperial insignia, he returned to find Ying Yue already dressed and composed, every inch the Empress once more.
Together, they departed the private quarters.
Two Yellow Ghost Bodyguards moved ahead of them like silent shadows, their presence more felt than seen. Behind followed a small group of Ying Yue's trusted handmaidens, keeping a respectful distance as they made their way toward the East Palace.
The residence of the Crown Prince lay bathed in early sunlight, its courtyards already alive with disciplined motion.
As they entered the outer courtyard, the sound of wood striking wood cut through the morning air, sharp, rhythmic, purposeful.
Lie Fan stopped.
At the center of the courtyard stood Lie Muchen.
The boy held a spear almost as tall as himself, his stance firm, feet planted properly, grip controlled but not rigid. Sweat glistened at his brow as he moved through a sequence of thrusts and sweeps, each motion clean and deliberate.
Before him stood Zhao Yun, posture relaxed yet alert, eyes missing nothing. He corrected with small gestures rather than words, allowing the boy to learn through repetition.
And to Lie Fan's genuine surprise—
Ma Chao was there as well.
The famed general stood slightly to the side, arms crossed, occasionally stepping in to demonstrate a sharper angle, a more aggressive extension, his movements fluid and powerful even when restrained.
Lie Fan raised an eyebrow faintly.
The footsteps of the approaching entourage were quiet, but not quiet enough for men like Zhao Yun and Ma Chao.
Both generals turned almost simultaneously.
The instant they recognized who had arrived, they stepped back and dropped to one knee.
"Your Majesty."
"Your Majesty."
Muchen froze mid motion, the spear tip wavering for a split second before discipline reasserted itself. He turned quickly, eyes widening when he saw his parents.
He planted the butt of the spear on the ground, stepped back, and knelt as well.
"Father. Mother."
Lie Fan smiled and gestured lightly. "All of you, rise." They obeyed. Lie Fan's gaze went first to his son. He studied Muchen's posture, the way he held the weapon, the faint tremor of exertion in his arms. He nodded, approval clear in his expression.
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Name: Lie Fan
Title: Founding Emperor Of Hengyuan Dynasty
Age: 35 (202 AD)
Level: 16
Next Level: 462,000
Renown: 2325
Cultivation: Yin Yang Separation (level 9)
SP: 1,121,700
ATTRIBUTE POINTS
STR: 966 (+20)
VIT: 623 (+20)
AGI: 623 (+10)
INT: 667
CHR: 98
WIS: 549
WILL: 432
ATR Points: 0