The Blood Crown - Side Story 2: Waning Moon (Part 1)

Side Story 2: Waning Moon (Part 1)

In spring, sow a single grain of millet, and in autumn, reap ten thousand kernels. Autumn has always been the most joyous season. As long as the year was decent, the hard work of the people would be rewarded, and the state treasury would be replenished. In a bountiful year, when households are overflowing with prosperity and the court reaps abundant harvests, it is a cause for nationwide celebration.

Chen Mu had just ascended the throne and was fortunate to encounter such a bountiful year. For a new emperor, this was a heaven-sent omen, symbolizing the prosperity of the nation. Naturally, it was widely celebrated.

However, strictly speaking, this year shouldn’t be attributed to Chen Mu.

According to ancestral laws and calendars, a new emperor must establish a new era name upon ascending the throne. However, the first year of the new era would officially begin the following year, while the current year would still use the previous era name as a mark of respect for the late emperor.

But after Feng Ye entered the capital, Emperor Zhaowu was forced to abdicate. The successor was the thirteenth prince—Zhu Lanting’s nephew. This emperor, however, was never recognized, facing widespread opposition from court officials. A prolonged standoff ensued as Feng Ye’s forces occupied the capital region.

After entering the capital, Chen Mu ousted the toddler “emperor.” Since the thirteenth prince’s reign was not acknowledged, the era name should have remained Zhaowu. However, the thirteenth prince had indeed introduced a new era name during his reign. As ministers argued over whether last year and this year should use the old or new era name, Chen Mu seized the opportunity and made a decisive ruling: last year would remain under Zhaowu, but this year would adopt his own era name.

Thus, the year of rebellion, forced abdication, and the disgrace of the royal family became the final year of Zhaowu. In contrast, the year of the Jin retreat, the new emperor’s accession, and abundant harvests marked the first year of Chen Mu’s reign.

Additionally, Chen Mu posthumously honored his mother as empress, drove Noble Consort Wen and Chen Chun to their deaths, and confined the bedridden Emperor Zhaowu to his palace. Despite daily visits to pay his respects, seemingly out of filial piety, it was clear he hoped to agitate Emperor Zhaowu into an earlier demise.

The new emperor’s ruthlessness and dominance were evident.

Yuan Nanyu, leading a tribute mission from Datong to the capital, heard many rumors about Chen Mu along the way.

Since ascending the throne, Chen Mu had dismissed over a thousand officials, with executions occurring daily. It was truly a case of “a new sovereign and new ministers.” Simultaneously, he launched sweeping reforms against corruption, resettled displaced populations, and scrutinized the military, government, law, and taxation across provinces and districts, clearly intent on significant achievements.

Though Chen Mu’s actions drew criticism, after enduring Emperor Zhaowu’s incompetence and the chaos under the thirteenth prince, the nation was on the brink of collapse. Both the court and the public pinned their hopes on the legitimate eldest prince to restore the empire’s former glory.

Yuan Nanyu knew this mission would not bode well for him. He felt a heavy weight on his heart throughout the journey. Yet, holding a high position, he bore great responsibility. Even if it meant walking into a lion’s den, he would not hesitate.

When they reached the capital at dawn, memories of his last visit flooded back. That time, he had marched in with Feng Ye to depose the emperor. Today, his cautious trepidation was worlds apart from his past swagger. In just two or three years, life’s unpredictability was deeply sobering.

He was supposed to settle in at the courier station first and wait for an imperial summons. However, just as he entered the city, an inner eunuch arrived with Chen Mu’s decree, ordering him to the palace immediately without delay.

He didn’t even have time to change his clothes, entering the palace dusty and travel-worn.

Dismounting his horse and unbuckling his sword, he walked down the long pathway, passing wall after wall until he finally crossed the high threshold of the Hall of Supreme Harmony. There, he immediately spotted the man seated high on the dragon throne.

Despite having mentally prepared himself, Yuan Nanyu still felt his scalp tingle and his entire body tense.

The distance was great, and Chen Mu’s face was obscured by the beaded curtains of his imperial crown, but Yuan Nanyu could still feel a piercing gaze fixed upon him from the moment he stepped into the hall.

As the chief eunuch announced his name, Yuan Nanyu snapped back to reality. He strode briskly across the red carpet and stopped beneath the dais, lifting his gaze to the figure above.

The strands of jade beads swayed slightly before him—five strings in total, each with nine jade beads, signifying the supreme power of the emperor. Seated at the highest and most central position of the gilded throne was the true Son of Heaven, Chen Mu. Now, none dared utter his name directly.

The twenty-three-year-old new emperor sat upright on the throne, his back straight. The imposing presence of his imperial aura seemed to swirl tangibly in the hall, pressing the officials into submissive silence.

The chief eunuch coughed loudly and scolded, “Bold!”

Yuan Nanyu, though unfamiliar with courtly rituals, knew well enough that failing to kneel and even daring to meet the emperor’s gaze was a capital offense.

He took a deep breath and slowly knelt.

Chen Mu’s lips didn’t curve into a smile. His eyes, hidden behind the jade beads, remained fixed on the handsome man reluctantly kneeling before him.

In an even tone, Yuan Nanyu said, “This minister, Yuan Nanyu, greets His Majesty. Long live the Emperor, long live the Emperor, long live the Emperor.” With that, he bowed deeply, his forehead touching the floor.

As his forehead met the ground, Yuan Nanyu’s emotions surged uncontrollably. He couldn’t quite describe the feeling.

He couldn’t help but recall the arrow he had shot when Chen Mu had retreated in defeat. If that arrow had been just a little more accurate, a little steadier, how would the world look today? At the very least, he wouldn’t have to kneel and bow before the man who had once humiliated him so deeply.

Chen Mu chuckled softly. “My dear subject, rise.” His tone was ambiguous.

Yuan Nanyu clenched his fists silently, stood up, and patted the dust off his armor.

The chief eunuch coughed again, harder this time. Realizing his actions were inappropriate, Yuan Nanyu let his hands drop and lowered his head, standing silently.

Chen Mu said, “Lift your head.”

A trace of anger flashed in Yuan Nanyu’s eyes as he slowly lifted his head, expressionless as he looked at Chen Mu.

He vividly remembered the first time he met Chen Mu, a naïve teenager who had been deposed as crown prince and “banished” to the remote land of Yunnan to take up a fiefdom. Without imperial favor or support from maternal relatives, Chen Mu had nothing aside from the title of prince. It was through the efforts of Yuan Nanyu and Yan Sikong, recruiting soldiers and running errands, that Chen Mu was able to establish his own power base.

At that time, in Yuan Nanyu’s eyes, Chen Mu was merely a destitute minor prince. To Chen Mu, Yuan Nanyu was nothing more than a bearded subordinate of Yan Sikong’s, and they had little to do with each other. Who could have foreseen that years later, they would share such a fateful connection? Who could have imagined that the most neglected, downtrodden deposed crown prince would one day rule the realm, draped in regal attire, seated on the dragon throne, wielding the ultimate authority over life and death, and accepting the worship of all under heaven?

To Yuan Nanyu, the smartest person he had ever known was his second brother, Yan Sikong. Yet even someone as clever as him eventually resigned himself to fate.

This must be destiny.

Chen Mu said, “My dear subject, the journey has been arduous. You’ve grown thinner.”

Yuan Nanyu cupped his hands and replied, “Thank you, Your Majesty, for your concern.” He pulled a document from his sleeve—it was the tribute inventory for the four northern prefectures this year. Without a word of superfluous politeness, he said, “This is the tribute list. Please review it, Your Majesty.”

“You read it aloud,” Chen Mu said with a mocking smile. “Let all the officials hear Prince Zhenbei’s(Feng Ye) loyalty to me.”

The officials remained silent.

Everyone knew that Feng Ye was a thorn in Chen Mu’s side.

Yuan Nanyu immediately unfolded the document and began to read aloud: “Seventy thousand bushels of polished rice, twenty thousand bushels of soybeans, thirty thousand bushels of corn, two thousand bolts of plain silk, eight thousand bolts of coarse cloth, warhorses…”

Years of military training had given Yuan Nanyu a naturally loud voice. He deliberately enunciated each word forcefully. By the time he finished reading the long list, the groggy officials, still half-asleep from the early morning session, were fully awake, some even clutching their aching eardrums.

When he finished, Yuan Nanyu snapped the document shut with a sharp “clap” and presented it with both hands. The chief eunuch descended the steps, took the document, and respectfully handed it to Chen Mu, bowing low.

The officials whispered among themselves, mocking Yuan Nanyu as a rough military man, a far cry from his cunning, fox-like brother.

Chen Mu casually flipped through the document and said coolly, “Prince Zhenbei is most thoughtful.”

Yuan Nanyu swallowed his disgust and recited the lines Yan Sikong had drilled into him: “Prince Zhenbei, stationed in Datong, daily admires Your Majesty’s divine radiance. He wished to personally come to court, but alas, his duties bind him. He hopes Your Majesty will forgive him.”

“His duties bind him?” Chen Mu sneered. “Prince Zhenbei governs four prefectures; indeed, he must be very busy.”

Yuan Nanyu kept his face impassive and said nothing.

Chen Mu leaned forward slightly, causing the jade beads of his crown to sway. Through the gaps, he carefully observed every nuance of Yuan Nanyu’s expression, especially the faint traces of resentment and defiance, which seemed particularly delightful. He said, “For my dear subject to undertake the tribute journey on behalf of Prince Zhenbei, traversing a thousand miles, is no small feat. I must host a banquet to welcome and honor you.”

Yuan Nanyu cupped his hands and said, “Thank you, Your Majesty, for your grace.”

Chen Mu said, “Have General Yuan accommodated at the Jianjia Residence. The accompanying officials will be rewarded according to their ranks.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Yuan Nanyu’s face darkened slightly but could only reply, “Thank you for Your Majesty’s grace.”

The Jianjia Residence was the closest courier station to the palace, typically reserved for royal family members returning to the capital for official duties or family visits. It was unheard of for someone else to stay there. Chen Mu’s arrangement was highly intriguing, though to Yuan Nanyu, it seemed nothing more than a calculated trap.

However, outside the four northern prefectures, in this vast imperial domain, whatever hardships or challenges he faced, he had to confront them alone. Fear of death had long been cast aside—what else could possibly frighten him?

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I’m back to writing side stories about the second couple. Updates won’t be daily, but I’ll definitely finish this before starting a new work!