Chapter 105: Yingling
On the twenty-seventh day of the twelfth lunar month, the Son of Heaven’s procession began.
Before dawn.
“General, it’s time to get up.”
Xiao Yi suddenly heard a hurried voice by his ear and sat up abruptly, murmuring, “Am I still alive?”
“Did the General have a dream?” Hua Nong asked. “Did you dream of fighting on the battlefield?”
“Mm.”
Xiao Yi nodded dully, got up, ate breakfast, and put on his armor.
His cloak was replaced with a piece of linen cloth, the red tassels on his armor were all changed to plain colors, his sword scabbard was wrapped with three loops of white silk, and even the sides of his saddle were covered with plain cloth.
Everyone was silent due to the early hour, except for Zhang Mantun, who talked too much.
“I won’t wear heavy armor just to show off and not fight. I won’t do it.”
Li Chongjin, who hadn’t slept, was drinking in the corridor. He walked over and kicked him, saying, “You’re too noisy. Let’s quickly send off the Liu kid and make my uncle the emperor!”
“I’m going, General Li, don’t cry anymore. If people didn’t know, they’d think you were mourning the Late Emperor.”
The preparations were complete, and they set out to escort the imperial coffin. It was still completely dark.
Xiao Yi sent his subordinates to the Vermilion Bird Gate to clear the streets. He went to Zi Chen Hall to receive the imperial coffin. There were only over thirty officials present before dawn, mostly imperial relatives. Among them, he only recognized Feng Dao, Song Yanwo, Liu Xun, Li Hongwei, and Li Hongjian.
The atmosphere was somber.
While on patrol, Xiao Yi leaned close to Song Yanwo and whispered a few words.
“Yesterday, I saw a cloth shop in the East Market that had changed its plaque. I thought it belonged to Zhong Jian Xiong.”
“Does Master Xiao prefer white cotton cloth or red cotton cloth?”
“It is indeed related to Zhong Jian Xiong.”
“It originally belonged to Su Fengji, registered under one of his illegitimate wives. When the court confiscated Su’s property, she wasn’t implicated, but she was uneasy and sold it to me at a low price, begging me to ensure her safety.”
Xiao Yi said, “So that’s how it is.”
Song Yanwo smiled slightly with a profound meaning and said, “This shop is registered under my sister’s name, as her dowry.”
Xiao Yi, who had intended to discuss cotton cloth, dropped the subject upon hearing this.
Finally, with three strikes of the wooden clapper, the pallbearers lifted the coffin, and the procession began.
“The imperial coffin is moving.”
The outer perimeter was guarded by the Control Crane Guard, with Xiao Yi leading the inner palace guards in the center. Empress Dowager Li and Empress An’s plain sedan chairs were directly behind him.
He noticed that at the very rear were the followers of the high officials, each family bringing between four and twelve people.
The procession did not ride horses; they stopped every three steps, a “walking escort” ritual, and moved very slowly. It was dawn by the time they reached Zhou Bridge, with over twenty li remaining to Yingling. It would likely take three to four hours.
After passing through the Vermilion Bird Gate and traveling five li, they were finally allowed a short rest. No eating, talking, or laughing was permitted; the only sound was the mourning for the late ruler.
“Your Majesty!”
Xiao Yi suddenly heard a heart-wrenching cry and thought to himself, “Who is overacting?”
He looked back and saw Song Yanwo weeping uncontrollably, attempting to rush towards the imperial coffin, but was restrained by Lu You and Wei Liang. Song Yanwo immediately collapsed and began to convulse.
“What’s going on?!”
“I, I… we didn’t push him.” Lu You was terrified, raising his hands high, his face full of horror, and mumbled, “General, I really didn’t push.”
“I didn’t push either.”
Wei Liang tried to help him up, but Song Yanwo suddenly foamed at the mouth, startling him into not daring to touch him again.
“Imperial physicians! Quickly!”
Xiao Yi quickly stepped forward to help Song Yanwo up, but his wrist was seized by Song Yanwo.
He immediately understood. No doubt, the next time they met, Song Yanwo would thank him for saving his life for the fourth time.
“Zhong Jian Xiong is overcome with grief and has fainted. Quickly, escort him back to the capital to recuperate…”
“Imperial Brother!”
Suddenly, another mournful cry rang out. Liu Xun swayed and collapsed, unconscious.
Seeing that this man was faking illness and even gave up the throne, Xiao Yi didn’t press the matter and allowed his attendants to escort him back to the city.
Afterwards, Feng Dao’s gaze fell upon him. Xiao Yi nodded, drew his saber, and patrolled, organizing the procession.
“I, Xiao, was originally a soldier of the Tianxiong Army! I am now assigned to the Inner Palace Guard, and today I will ensure the Late Ruler’s peaceful burial. No matter how grief-stricken you are, please do not faint again!”
Having said that, he scanned the crowd and happened to meet Empress An’s gaze. He noticed her look carried some apprehension, unlike the indifferent porcelain doll she had been before.
In just an instant, she quickly lowered her eyes. When she looked up again, her expression was once more blank.
He figured she wouldn’t dare faint, and even if she had to act, she should at least play the role of an Empress.
After another five li, during a break, Xiao Yi quietly ate a few pieces of dried meat.
He truly needed to eat, not out of disrespect, nor was he bound by the rules.
As he turned, his peripheral vision caught Empress An looking at him again. Afterwards, she turned and spoke in a low voice to a palace servant, who then furtively glanced over.
They were probably discussing him eating.
This was one of the few moments of interest in the entire long and tedious journey.
They finally arrived at the mourning pavilion before Yingling, where the Ritual Official led the practice of sealing the tomb.
Xiao Yi’s role was not extensive, only to prevent the craftsmen from escaping when the tomb door was sealed.
“When the tomb door is sealed, why would there still be craftsmen inside?”
“The craftsmen who built the tomb are dealt with to prevent leakage of the mausoleum and theft of burial goods. This is not unique to our dynasty; it is an established precedent since ancient times.”
“So, you bury them alive?”
“Yes.”
Xiao Yi asked, “What if they are released?”
The Ritual Official’s expression changed. He answered flawlessly and replied in a low voice, “Then, the Late Emperor’s mausoleum may be robbed.”
Yingling.
As soon as the Emperor ascended the throne, the construction of his mausoleum began. Liu Chengyou had been emperor for three years, and Yingling had already taken some shape.
Due to the war, most of the conscript laborers had fled, but over six thousand still remained to rush the final tasks.
The underground palace’s construction was unknown, with only a section of the tomb passage protruding from the wild mountainside.
In the vast snow and wind, stonecutters, with bare arms, struck iron chisels against iron plates; earth-rammers, carrying huge wooden tampers, grunted hoarsely; by the furnaces, blacksmiths sweated profusely; conscript laborers carrying broken stones entered and exited the tomb passage…
As Xiao Yi approached, he saw that the conscript laborers’ clothes were tattered, revealing the scars left by the ropes on their shoulders, both new and old, countless marks.
The oldest were seventy or eighty years old, and the youngest were only eight or nine.
“Crack!”
The overseer swung a whip, knocking down an old man staggering. He shouted, “The Son of Heaven’s coffin is being placed! Stop moving the remaining stones and carry away those bodies! Disperse!”
Xiao Yi looked back and saw two children carrying the body of another child.
The view widened. In the cold wind and heavy snow, the conscript laborers, like ants carrying food home, carried the bodies away.
Witnessing this scene firsthand, he finally understood how apt the rulers’ constant reference to “ants” was.
He looked at the overseers, the officials, and the imperial coffin, clenched the hilt of his saber, then relaxed it, feeling the powerlessness of trying to benefit all under heaven.
The craftsmen were still there, blacksmiths were heating the molten iron, preparing to pour molten pig iron to seal the tomb door, their eyes filled with sorrow.
Xiao Yi led his men on patrol and entered the tomb passage.
A group of carpenters and stonecutters were patching gaps and carving decorations.
“The tomb door is about to be sealed, why haven’t you left yet?”
An old man among the craftsmen prostrated himself and choked out, “Reporting to the General, these small ones designed the tomb’s mechanisms. We dare not leave.”
“I said, you should leave.”
“This… thank you for your kindness, General. Our families are still here, how dare we escape?”
Xiao Yi examined the tomb chamber and asked, “Did you dig this? How do you ensure it won’t collapse?”
“By ramming the earth layer by layer, it naturally won’t collapse.”
“Oh?” Xiao Yi suddenly thought of something and asked, “Can you dig mine shafts?”
The old craftsman was stunned and nodded blankly.
Xiao Yi continued further inside and saw a poorly dressed old Taoist priest sitting cross-legged before a tomb chamber, meditating with his eyes closed, exuding an aura of unfathomable depth.
“Daoist Master, what are you doing here?”
“Waiting to die.”
“Why are you waiting to die?”
“This mausoleum was surveyed by this humble Taoist for the Imperial Astronomical Bureau. It faces Qian mountain and Qian direction with water flowing from Qian, and faces Mao mountain with water flowing from Mao.”
“After surveying the mausoleum, you must die?”
The old Taoist did not open his eyes and said indifferently, “Countless people have died in the construction of mausoleums. Resentment has gathered. This humble Taoist must dissolve it with his own body…”
“General, don’t listen to his nonsense,” said the old craftsman. “This old Taoist, while he did survey the mausoleum, is also involved in tomb robbing activities like finding the ‘dragon veins’ and separating gold. He’s definitely going to be buried.”
“The earth’s veins can be surveyed, but human hearts are unpredictable,” the old Taoist chuckled obsequiously, opened his eyes, and changed his expression to one of fawning. “I beg the General to save this humble Taoist. I have no family, and I am willing to leave.”
“Can the Daoist Master survey mines?”
“It’s not a problem.”
Xiao Yi nodded and looked around. He felt that the craftsmen in this tomb were all treasures. If he could take them all back, wouldn’t that be a ready-made glass-making team?
Counting them, there were eighty-six people who were to be sealed in the mausoleum.
He exited the tomb passage and immediately walked towards the plain sedan chairs of the two empresses.
Empress Dowager Li stared blankly at the remaining lumber in the distance, perhaps lamenting the shabbiness of Yingling. The Empress occasionally shed a tear or two.
“Your subordinate has something to report to the Empress Dowager.”
“What is it?”
“Please, Your Majesty, grant mercy and pardon the craftsmen in the mausoleum.”
“You are impertinent.”
Xiao Yi understood that Empress Dowager Li did not want to increase the risk of tomb robbery and disturb the deceased further. However, the truth was that it made no difference whether the craftsmen were released or not. The mausoleum wasn’t even finished, and it was being buried in haste. Who could it possibly deter?
He walked up to the plain sedan chair, his hand on his saber, and said in a low voice, “Please, Your Majesty, grant mercy.”
“What if I do not grant mercy?”
“Please, Your Majesty, grant mercy.”
Xiao Yi said no more, as both sides understood the reasoning. Empress Dowager Li, who had the authority to exempt the common people from taxes, was not without compassion. The current contest was one of state of mind.
He lowered his voice further, so as not to attract the attention of the officials, preserving Empress Dowager Li’s dignity.
If an argument broke out, Empress Dowager Li would be the one to suffer, and in such a situation, everything would go wrong.
Empress Dowager Li became angry, leaning forward like a tigress, glaring at Xiao Yi hatefully, her eyes reddening, her teeth clenched, and she uttered a sharp reprimand.
“You wretch, do you also wish to bully the orphans and widows of the Han Dynasty?”
“Please, Your Majesty, grant mercy.”
After a long silence, the two stared at each other wordlessly.
On the adjacent plain sedan chair, Empress An glanced over several times.
In the distance, Feng Dao approached with the Ritual Official.
Empress Dowager Li finally closed her eyes and shed two tears.
She raised her hand, wiped her face, and murmured, “Without a posthumous title or temple name, the Late Ruler’s funeral matters could not be any more perfunctory.”
Xiao Yi asked, “Do you want a posthumous title, or a reputation for benevolence?”
As he finished speaking, Feng Dao and the Ritual Official arrived and reported, “Your Majesty, the hour is getting late…”
“Issue the decree.”
Empress Dowager Li sat up straight, her hands clasped, her back rigid, her expression calm, betraying no hint of emotion.
“The Late Emperor reigned for three years, always with a heart that loved the people. The funeral of the Son of Heaven shall be guided by benevolence. Currently, at Yingling, the conscripted laborers and craftsmen have served for a long time. If they are sealed within the mausoleum, it would violate the Late Emperor’s benevolent heart. They shall all be transferred to the Ministry of Works to serve.”
Feng Dao, moved, said, “Your Majesty’s boundless grace.”
Xiao Yi also bowed in agreement and said, “Your Majesty’s wisdom.”
Empress Dowager Li did not look at him and continued to issue the decree.
“The imperial coffin’s return westward was protected by the efforts of all of you, who have endured great hardship. Originally, one hundred and fifty sets of silver burial objects were prepared, which will be melted down and distributed as rewards. Imperial relatives and officials will each receive two taels of silver and one bolt of silk; guards will receive one tael of silver and one bolt of silk; palace servants and attendants will receive five hundred cash and one bolt of cloth.”
Upon hearing this, Feng Dao sighed deeply, his face filled with sorrow. He bowed deeply again, speechless.
The Ritual Official prostrated himself and cried, “Your Majesty, please reconsider.”
Empress Dowager Li, as if having exhausted her last strength, said, “I only hope that the Han Dynasty State can overcome this calamity. I wish all ministers to be of one heart and uphold their loyalty.”
“Your ministers, receive the decree and express our gratitude.”
“Your subordinate receives the decree and expresses gratitude.”
“…”
Under the setting sun, a loud cry suddenly rang out.
“The Son of Heaven returns west, the imperial coffin is lowered!”
The stone slab slowly covered the opening, molten iron was poured to seal the gaps, and the three-foot-high earthen mound stood alone in the mountains, without a tombstone or statue.
In the wind and snow, Xiao Yi ordered his subordinates to take the craftsmen with them. He felt the aura of death from the mausoleum gradually being dispelled by the warmth of life.
That night, the funeral procession set up camp three li southeast of the mausoleum in the funeral camp.
