Fuhua Temple, on the outskirts of the capital.
After two days of heavy rain, the surrounding mountains and forests were shrouded in a thin mist. This was a sacred Buddhist sanctuary, and now, with the Empress Dowager here fasting and praying, it was quieter than ever.
But at this moment, the silence was broken. A palace eunuch hurried through courtyard after courtyard, holding up an imperial dispatch and calling out loudly, “Victory at Fangzhou! Victory at Fangzhou!”
Sun Gongzheng was accompanying the Empress Dowager in chanting sutras when he faintly heard the cries, carried over from beyond several courtyards. He rose at once from his knees.
The Empress Dowager heard it too. Clad in plain black robes, her hair secured with nothing but a wooden hairpin, her face was gaunt with exhaustion—but now, her eyes glimmered with light.
Sun Gongzheng slid open the wooden door. At the gate of the courtyard, a lady-in-waiting hurried forward, presenting the dispatch.
He took it, hands trembling, and handed it reverently to the Empress Dowager.
But she had been kneeling for so long that when she tried to rise, her legs gave out and she sank back onto the prayer mat.
“Your Majesty…”
“Read it for me—quickly!” she urged.
Sun Gongzheng unfolded the dispatch, glanced at it, and his face broke into a joyous smile. “It’s from His Highness the Prince of Huan—His Majesty has retaken Fangzhou! And now the army is advancing straight toward Yuanzhou with His Majesty at the front!”
Tears welled in his eyes as he looked at the Empress Dowager. She sat on the mat, her prayer beads trailing on the floor.
“Good… good,” she murmured, tears streaming down her face.
Sun Gongzheng said, “Your Majesty’s sincerity has truly moved the heavens and the Buddhas.”
The Empress Dowager knelt again and bowed deeply before the Buddha statue. Sun Gongzheng also followed her lead, bowing several times, just as the abbot and other monks of Fuhua Temple arrived.
In Great Zhou, perhaps people usually placed their hopes in different places—some turned to the Buddha, some to the world of men; the nobles, the common folk, the young, the old, each with their own prayers. But over these past few days, surely everyone’s hearts had been united in a single wish: to pray for their Emperor and the soldiers fighting at the front lines.
And now, the heavens had answered. The first great victory had come at last—cause for the entire nation to celebrate!
“His Majesty is mighty! Our soldiers are mighty!”
“I said so, didn’t I? Let Huang Tianyi keep on bragging now!”
“Get out of here, and go back where you came from!”
“Our Emperor’s undefeated streak continues!”
“Who was it before who said Huang Tianyi never lost a battle? So much for his undefeated legend!”
At that moment, He Yan, his hands shackled, was paraded through the streets in a prison cart. Someone actually ran right up to the cart to jeer at him: “Your emperor lost! He was beaten by our Emperor!”
He Yan: “…”
He couldn’t believe it!
Impossible!
He had followed his emperor ever since the first campaign, watching him cut through enemy lines like a god of war, never tasting defeat. That unbroken momentum had been their greatest strength, making the soldiers of Liang unstoppable, because they all believed they were blessed by the gods—they could only win, never lose!
Had the gods abandoned them?
Impossible. Impossible!
Dazed, He Yan sat in the prison cart, watching the crowds cheer wildly, too caught up in celebration to even bother mocking him anymore.
This must all just be a fluke!
Huang Tianyi was destined by heaven—how could some deranged emperor, who killed his father and brother, ever compare?
A few months ago, when he had first arrived in Jiantai City, this wasn’t how people spoke of Fu Huang at all.
One victory and now they were ready to worship him like a god?
The higher they climb, the harder they fall!
Weary, thirsty, starving, and in pain, He Yan didn’t know how long they paraded him. His mind fogged over, until the noise of the crowd startled him awake again.
He opened his eyes and saw they had reached another city—he didn’t even know which one anymore. The whole place rang with cheers of “Long live the Emperor!” And through the haze he heard someone shouting, “His Majesty has won again—Yuanzhou is ours!”
At the gates of Jiantai City’s imperial palace, the gold-armored guards were so thrilled they could hardly contain themselves. “To horse! Ride and report the victory!”
The guards spurred their horses, hooves thundering past red palace walls, the morning sun gleaming on glazed tiles and gilded roofs. The sound of hoofbeats echoed, rousing the eunuchs and officials waiting outside Qingyuan Palace. They rushed to the gates, watching the messenger leap down from his horse and kneel, holding up the latest report.
“Victory at Yuanzhou!”
“Good! Good! Good!” Cheers erupted as eunuchs snatched the report and ran it inside. Word had already begun to spread throughout the palace. Inside the Spring Dawn Hall, Fu Ye came running barefoot to meet them, the petals of late-blooming roses scattered at his feet beneath the archways.
He grabbed the report, scanned it, and turned back with shining eyes. “Chancellor Xie—another victory!”
Chancellor Xie, just as elated, bowed low. “Congratulations, Your Highness! Congratulations to His Majesty!”
Fu Ye could hardly contain his joy. He returned to the hall, sitting cross-legged. Qin, the chief eunuch, beamed as he knelt to wipe the rain and dirt from Fu Ye’s feet, leaning in to say, “Your Highness, don’t keep it all to yourself—read it to us, please!”
And so Fu Ye raised his voice and read the triumphant report aloud for all to hear.
The report was detailed and impassioned, penned personally by Zhang Gui in a fervent, stirring style. Yuanzhou had been occupied by the Liang forces for many days; it was no easy prize. The battle raged for two full days, brutal and grueling. Even Fu Huang had taken an arrow.
At this, Fu Ye paused, tears mingling with a trembling smile, before continuing to read aloud. Qin, the chief eunuch, gripped the cloth in his hands, his whole being focused, listening in stunned silence.
Fu Huang, wounded, had snapped the arrow shaft himself and, after a rough bandaging, pressed on to lead the charge. The troops, seeing this, were roused to the core, throwing aside all thought of life and death.
This was a battle fought with blood and guts. In Fangzhou, the common people tore down their own homes, jumped into the river to help build floating bridges for the army. In Yuanzhou, local heroes rose up, coordinating with our forces from inside the walls. The city was finally taken. His Majesty, though injured, shot down two enemy generals with his own hand. In the end, Huang Tianyi had no choice but to abandon the city and flee.
If the victory at Fangzhou had steadied the army’s heart and given the troops confidence, then the triumph at Yuanzhou had ignited their fighting spirit!
That’s the way of war—morale means everything. When two armies face off, the rise of one side’s morale spells the fall of the other’s. Now that the myth of Liang’s invincibility was shattered, their once soaring spirits surely crashed just as hard. The aura of divine favor they once clung to—broken.
If Fu Huang had carried the crushing weight of that first battle on his shoulders, now all the pressure was squarely on Huang Tianyi.
Liang had fallen back to Zouzhou. One more defeat, and they’d be driven all the way home.
This victory sparked even greater jubilation in the capital than the last. From the imperial family to common peddlers, everyone rejoiced. Lion and dragon dances filled the streets. Fu Ye led the charge in donating to raise funds for the displaced people of Fangzhou and Yuanzhou, and soon he was joined by throngs of eager supporters.
In the midst of the crowd stood Wei Sime, watching Fu Ye from afar. Fu Ye looked leaner now, his posture taller and prouder. Though still slender, he no longer had that frail, sickly look from when Wei Sime had first met him.
He thought, By the spring hunt next year, His Highness will surely be able to ride at His Majesty’s side.
Wei Sime pushed through the crowd, emptying his purse into the donation basket, then unfastened his jade pendant and finally, on impulse, even his belt, tossing it in as well. Laughter erupted all around him. Blushing furiously, he tried to slip away, when suddenly he heard a familiar voice call out:
“Wei Sime—gave up even your belt, did you?”
Startled and delighted, he turned to see Fu Ye standing on the platform, smiling down at him.
Radiant, dazzling—so beautiful it almost hurt to look.
Wei Sime was flustered and overwhelmed, unable to think of a reply. His face crimson, he only managed a stammered, “Mm,” as joy swelled in his chest at the thought that the prince remembered his name.
In the distance, a grand procession appeared. Together with Fu Ye, Wei Sime turned to look. It was the Empress Dowager, approaching slowly in her phoenix carriage, gold-armored guards clearing the way, stately palace women following behind. The Empress Dowager sat tall, adorned in splendid robes, phoenix hairpins glittering.
Fu Ye hurried down from the platform to bow in greeting.
The crowd, seeing the Empress Dowager arrive, all knelt to the ground in respect.
The Empress Dowager dismounted from her carriage and said, “I heard the prince was leading donations here in the capital. As the head of the inner palace, I too should offer what I can.”
Saying this, she removed her hairpins and bracelets, handing them over. The palace ladies behind her, noble and graceful, followed suit without hesitation.
These women of the court, famed for their elegance and dignity, now together set aside their finery for the soldiers at the front. The sight of such noble sacrifice stirred the hearts of the people, making the gesture even more inspiring than the prince’s fundraising itself. A deed that would echo across the empire, bringing honor to both crown and country.
Fu Ye felt deep admiration and endless gratitude.
And as expected, donations and supplies began pouring in from all across the realm. United in purpose, the nation stood as one. As Fu Ye read each report from the provinces, tears streamed down his cheeks. Victory is within our grasp, he thought.
Two days later, Fu Ye finally received the long-awaited letter from Fu Huang himself.
His hands shook as he held it. Only after dismissing the others did he open it. And the moment he saw those first words—“My beloved wife”—his tears flowed like a river.
[To My Wife:]
This time I went to war, and by fortune and effort, I did not bring shame upon my mission—we have now reclaimed both Fang and Yuan Prefectures. An arrow grazed my left shoulder, but thankfully it did not touch bone or sinew. I hope you will not worry over it. There is a date set for my return; I miss you dearly. The lotus blossoms stretch for a hundred miles across Yuan Prefecture—so beautiful that I’ve sent you one. I also heard that the jade hairpins of Zou Prefecture are exquisitely crafted; after our next victory, I will be sure to obtain one and send it to you.
The matters of the state weigh heavily—so many threads at once. I know you think of me day and night. I beg you, take care of yourself. When peace is restored to this land, I will ride back to you at full speed so we may be together again.
Written by your husband, Huang.
He wiped away his tears and immediately asked Shuangfu to prepare ink and brush. He took up the brush and wrote:
[To My Husband:]
The triumphant news has arrived, and now in the capital, from court ministers to common folk, everyone is clapping their hands in praise, the city filled with songs of your virtue. I am proud beyond words here in the palace. All is well in the capital; I only worry for your health—please, do not be careless. I think of you day and night and long for our reunion. The nation stands united, and I know we shall sweep away the invaders. I will wait here in the capital for your glorious return.
My love—I send you a thousand, ten thousand kisses.
Finishing, he felt his heart swell with longing, lifted the gilded letter paper, and pressed his lips to it, as though he were kissing Huang himself.
These past days, he had lived between fear and hope—sometimes consumed by the affairs of state, sometimes buoyed by the joy of victory. But at this moment, all his love and yearning surged forth. He found himself thinking fiercely of Huang—his hands, his lips, even the bitter trace of medicine that clung to him. He had long kept his desires tightly restrained, and now they flooded him all at once.
At last, the tension in his heart loosened.
That night, he could not sleep. He imagined what it would be like if, like heroes in the dramas, he could cast everything aside and rush to the battlefield, to his husband’s side. But he knew he could not—his place was in the capital, where he was still needed. To join the army would only cause trouble.
Half-dreaming, he did not know how long he lay awake. In the end, he wrapped himself in Huang’s robe and lay upon the couch. The world outside was utterly still. He breathed in the robe’s faint scent—though no real trace of Huang remained on it, in his mind he gave it the familiar, beloved fragrance: the scent of Huang’s body, mingled with the sharp tang of medicinal herbs.
He put his hand into the robe. He was wearing nothing but Fu Huang’s robe.
His fingers were very smooth, brushing against the jade-like skin. He thought of Fu Huang’s hands, which could hold the imperial pen to write the edict of going to war, and could also pull the bowstring to shoot through one target after another.
He thought of the thin calluses on his fingertips, which always deliberately pierced his softest parts, his lips, his…
He put on Fu Huang’s robe in an extremely unbearable posture, with his long hair piled on the couch like ink. The dark black dragon robe made him look even whiter and more slender. The golden dragon on the robe was majestic and angry, and could eat people. His white fingers hooked and dug out a slight sound of water. After a while, he fell on the couch, his snow-white body rubbed against the dark dragon robe, like a piece of warm and fragrant white jade, his long hair spread out like seaweed floating in the water, and he was like a water demon floating out of the river of love, so gorgeous that he was calling the name of his beloved.
He missed him so much that even in his dreams, he found himself by his side.
At the crack of dawn the next day, he summoned Chancellor Xie to the palace.
Now that morale had risen, there was no reason not to seize the momentum.
Since Huang Tianyi had used his so-called legend of invincibility to build up his own golden image, it was time to strip that image down, piece by piece.
It might be difficult to infiltrate Daliang and wage war directly, but spreading rumors within Daliang’s borders—now that was not so hard.
Use the enemy’s own tactics against them. It was high time to set fire to Daliang’s backyard.
While the entire Great Zhou was still immersed in the joy of reclaiming its lands, tragedy struck in Zouzhou.
The Daliang soldiers who had fallen back to defend Zouzhou were gripped with fear. Huang Tianyi had made his name with the myth of being undefeated; the Holy Lord of the Red Lotus cult had proclaimed him heaven’s chosen. Their conquests against Great Zhou had been unstoppable—or so they believed. But now, with the arrival of Great Zhou’s emperor, they’d suffered defeat after defeat. Their once-proud emperor now seemed haggard, stripped of the aura of an indomitable ruler.
The troops were demoralized. Rumors ran wild: they said Fu Huang was a demon. They said he had killed his father and brother, that he was ruthless beyond measure. They whispered that he drank human blood, neither man nor ghost.
None of it was good—but it was terrifying enough. Who could hope to defeat a monster on the battlefield?
Huang Tianyi executed several men in quick succession in an attempt to silence the spreading rumors.
Once, they’d painted Fu Huang as pure evil to justify their invasion. Now, those same fabrications had become weapons in Fu Huang’s hands.
Zouzhou had to be held at all costs. They could not afford another disaster like Yuanzhou, where the local people joined forces with Great Zhou’s army.
Under immense pressure, Huang Tianyi resorted to brutal measures. He bound every able-bodied man in the city and forced them to the front lines. When Great Zhou’s army appeared outside the gates, he ordered the execution of countless Zouzhou patriots.
The act shocked the entire Great Zhou.
When Fu Ye read the report in the capital, he was so distraught his hands and feet turned cold.
The battle for Zouzhou was unimaginably brutal. Afterward, there was hardly a single male over the age of ten left in the city. A massive fire consumed half the town, and the wails of grief echoed everywhere.
When the fighting was over, Fu Huang rode through the ruins.
Zhang Gui and the others followed, still spattered with fresh blood.
The army rested in Zouzhou for three days. The smoke from the fires still lingered in the air.
All of Great Zhou was steeped in sorrow and rage. Zouzhou, ravaged repeatedly by war over the years, now suffered devastation so profound that few could bear to speak of it.
The king of Langguo, dressed in mourning clothes, removed his crown and led his ministers to Zouzhou to beg for forgiveness on their knees.
Fu Huang ordered him executed on the spot.
With the enemy general’s head, Fu Huang offered sacrifice to the souls lost in Zouzhou. Amidst the smoldering ruins, he received Fu Ye’s letter.
“For such atrocities, my husband must avenge heaven itself.”
Fu Huang gripped the letter tightly in his hand.
Zhang Gui said, “Huang Tianyi is a wolf in human form, harboring wild ambitions. He was the one who first invaded our Great Zhou. Now that Daliang’s morale has collapsed—and on top of that, he only ascended the throne a few months ago—the people of Daliang don’t even truly recognize him yet. And now, with him committing such atrocities, even Heaven itself will forsake him. This is the perfect time to strike. Your Majesty’s brilliance and courage—if you can seize this chance to unify the realm—you will achieve glory for the ages, and at the very least, ensure peace for the people for decades to come!”
Xu Zongyuan and the others added, “Rather than waiting for him to recover and attack us again, it’s better to press the advantage now. Your Majesty, I am willing to lead the vanguard and pursue these traitors!”
Everyone turned to look at Fu Huang. He was bare-chested, his torso bound with bandages that revealed his strong, defined chest and abdomen. A scar marked his face. Yet he looked less fierce than he had during the siege. In his hand, he held a letter. After a long, heavy silence, he rose to his feet.
In that moment, everyone—filled with grief and fury—felt a surge of strength and anticipation. They longed to see a grand campaign unlike any in a hundred years.
From that moment, what had begun as a battle to defend the borders in the summer of the sixth year of Changxing became a magnificent quest to unify the world.
That summer seemed endlessly long because of the war. As autumn arrived and the weather cooled, victory after victory was reported back to the capital, filling everyone’s hearts with passion and pride.
Daliang fell apart rapidly. On top of that, the rumors Fu Ye had ordered spread throughout Daliang began to take hold. Fu Huang’s victories fed the rumors, and the rumors fueled further victories. The more Fu Huang won, the more the stories grew. Huang Tianyi’s golden image shattered completely. Fu Ye seized the opportunity and followed the same formula—if others could claim the Mandate of Heaven, he could certainly do so for his husband. And in truth, his husband really was invincible, growing stronger with every battle.
Before Great Zhou’s forces even arrived, Daliang was already tearing itself apart. Rebels rose up amid the chaos. The Chen royal clan of Dayong declared themselves kings. The region plunged into civil war. And so, Daliang—whose rise had been so swift and grand—now crumbled just as swiftly and spectacularly.
Fu Huang’s army became an unstoppable force. The further they advanced, the easier it became. Many cities surrendered without a fight.
His fame in Jiantai City soared to unprecedented heights.
In the century since Great Zhou’s founding, no emperor was more revered by the people than Emperor Mingzong—yet even he had only expanded the realm to include the lands west of the Helian Mountains.
Even the Empress Dowager remarked to Sun Gongzheng, “His Majesty is destined to achieve unparalleled greatness.”
In the face of such glory—the unification of the world—Fu Huang’s old reputation for cruelty no longer mattered at all.
No one could even imagine what kind of spectacle Jiantai City would witness when Fu Huang returned in triumph. The Empress Dowager felt she should go offer sacrifices to their ancestors just thinking about it.
Xiao Ai said, “Your man is going to go down in history.”
Fu Ye: “Ahhhhhhh!”
Xiao Ai: “He’s a true god of war. Even Heaven’s chosen has been defeated.”
Fu Ye: “Ahhhhhhh!”
At the beginning, he had been so worried.
But once things reached this point—even if he hadn’t supported it—Fu Huang would have been swept along by the tides of history.
And later, as report after report of victory came in—each battle easier than the last, until hardly any blood had to be shed at all—his anxiety and longing gradually turned into exhilaration.
Into worship.
My god. To unify the world. Just thinking about those four words made him tremble.
He’d already felt incredibly lucky to have an emperor for a husband.
And now—it turned out his husband was destined to be a ruler for the ages!
He couldn’t even begin to imagine how future historians of Great Zhou would write about Fu Huang.
To think he had the good fortune to witness and take part in this grand, sweeping tide of history—maybe, just maybe, he’d even earn himself a line or two in the history books.
He truly—he could hardly wait for the day Fu Huang returned in triumph.
After everything they had been through—the upheaval, the long separation—he felt as if his whole being was ready to burn with longing for Fu Huang.
