Chapter Forty: The Fallen Emperor

Inside the bamboo hut, it was indeed Zhong Ying. Moments earlier, an arrow had struck her shoulder, soaking her sleeve with blood. She was supporting another man, whose injuries were even graver.

“Lord Meng!” Seeing Meng Di enter, Zhong Ying exclaimed with delight, “My lord, it truly is you!” She hadn’t heard clearly from inside the hut just now, but had called out in hope, not expectation.

After the joy came awkwardness—the matter of why she was still alive would not be easy to explain.

“Zhi’s men have already left; this is no place to linger,” Meng Di said, after giving the bamboo hut a quick once-over. He motioned for Zhong Ying to help the wounded man, and together they returned along the path they had come.

The old boatman, waiting in his craft, saw the four of them approaching and asked in surprise, “You didn’t find Master Fisherman?”

“No, we didn’t. Sir, please set off quickly,” Meng Di replied, worried that if Zhi’s reinforcements arrived, they would be in serious trouble. Only then did the old man notice the blood covering Zhong Ying and her companion; frightened into silence, he pushed the boat away from the shore with trembling hands.

The riverside seemed to regain its usual tranquility. After a time, an old man with a long beard stepped out from behind a tree, gazing after the receding boat.

“The land of Han? Interesting. Perhaps it’s time I ventured out into the world again.”

The arrow had pierced Zhong Ying’s shoulder, but thankfully missed the bone. Once bandaged, the wound was not immediately life-threatening.

The real challenge was the other man—a middle-aged fellow who now lay unconscious. Meng Di examined him carefully: several ribs were broken, as if struck by a heavy bronze mace, and the blood at the corner of his lips suggested internal injury.

The Han army’s medicine pouches contained remedies for internal wounds, but for now, all they could do was tend to him as best as possible.

Having finished the basic treatment, Meng Di and Zhong Ying sat at the prow of the boat. Zhong Ying expressed her gratitude: “If not for your help, Lord Meng, we surely would have perished.”

“We’ve survived life and death together; no need for such formality,” Meng Di replied with a wave.

“My lord, I am ashamed that you have incurred Zhi’s wrath on my account. Their power is great—you must be vigilant.”

“What’s done is done. There’s no point in worrying. No matter how powerful the Zhi clan, as long as I don’t provoke them, there’s nothing to fear.”

Zhong Ying hesitated for a long time before stammering, “There were things I concealed from you before. Please, forgive me, my lord.”

“Everyone has their secrets. Don’t worry; I won’t pry into your private affairs.”

He was not one to dig into others’ business, and the unconscious man’s presence hinted at deeper troubles. If Zhong Ying preferred not to explain, so be it.

Seeing Zhong Ying’s embarrassment, Meng Di patted his shoulder and offered comfort: “Focus on your recovery. If Little Wu and Little Liu knew you were alive, they would be overjoyed.”

“How are they? They’re still alive?”

“Other than Peng Ji and Zhao Yang, whose fate is unknown, everyone else is well. By the way, you probably don’t know that Li is actually King Goujian of Yue.”

“Li is King Yue?” Zhong Ying’s jaw dropped in astonishment.

“That’s right. Who would have thought our old brothers were hiding such talents?” Meng Di looked at Zhong Ying with meaning.

The handful of comrades who had dared to follow him north in those days were clearly no ordinary men. But then again, facing certain death, only the extraordinary would have taken such a gamble.

Seeing Zhong Ying’s embarrassment, Meng Di smiled and went on, “Li—King Goujian—bestowed upon me a vast fief, hundreds of miles across. Little Wu, Little Liu, and Gan Ying are all there.”

“That’s the land of Han, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I call it Han.”

“My lord, could I go to Han one day as well?”

“Why not?”

A silence fell between them.

Night descended. The old boatman moored the vessel and traded his catch for food in a nearby village. After supper, they lay down on the planks, resting beneath the stars.

The night passed quietly.

At dawn, the injured man finally awoke. Though motionless, his mind was clear. Learning that Meng Di had rescued them, he insisted on rising to offer thanks. Meng Di asked what they planned to do next.

What plans could they have? The middle-aged man gave a bitter smile.

“I am Ji Chao,” he said, stopping Zhong Ying’s protest with a glance. “Once, I was the Son of Heaven of Zhou.”

The King of Zhou! Meng Di’s eyebrows shot up; he had expected someone important, but not this important.

Even Su’er, usually indifferent to such matters, leaned in curiously. Fortunately, the old boatman was busy and overheard nothing.

After a few words, Ji Chao’s strength failed him, and he fell back into a deep sleep.

Zhong Ying led Meng Di to the stern. Since Ji Chao himself had chosen to reveal his identity, Zhong Ying recounted the whole story.

Ji Chao was the favored eldest illegitimate son of King Jing of Zhou. At court, two powerful ministers, Dan Mu Gongqi and Liu Xian Gongzhi, supported Prince Meng as heir apparent. Sensing his end near, King Jing plotted to rid himself of these two during a hunting expedition, paving the way for Prince Chao to ascend the throne.

Ironically, on the day of the hunt, before King Jing could act, he was struck down by a heart attack. With his last breath, he entrusted the task of installing Prince Chao as heir to Grand Tutor Bin Meng, before all the assembled ministers.

What followed was chaos. Bin Meng was assassinated, enraging the court, the craftsmen, and the royal clan. They raised arms, drove out the Dan and Liu families, and enthroned Prince Chao as King.

The Dan and Liu clans were powerful, but with the support of the people and the royal family, Prince Chao gradually took control. Then Jin intervened: at Dan Mu Gong’s request, generals Ji Tan and Zhi Luo led their armies to back Prince Meng for the throne.

Terrified and ill, Prince Meng soon died in the capital. Dan Mu Gong and Liu Wen Gong then installed Prince Gai as king.

Prince Chao, aided by the Yin clan, recaptured the capital and successfully claimed the throne. The Dan and Liu families retreated south of the Luo River, setting up Liu Yi as their king, and the two sides were deadlocked.

Thus, the strange situation of two kings in one country persisted for five years, until Jin sent its central army, led by Zhi Luo and his deputy Zhao Yang, to defeat Ji Chao.

Ji Chao fled to Chu with his officials and the royal regalia, living in hiding, his title stripped and demoted to commoner.

Jin’s power was overwhelming. Ji Chao, realizing restoration was hopeless, resigned himself to seclusion.

Yet Jin’s assassins never relented. Zhong Ying had been in Yingdu, posing as a scholar—her public killings were, in truth, eliminations of would-be assassins. That was how she had later been conscripted as a soldier and met Meng Di.

When Wu invaded Chu, chaos spread. Zhong Ying found Ji Chao, and to avoid the ravages of defeated soldiers, they journeyed along the Huai River, seeking refuge in Lu, passing through Xu to visit old friends. It was then that Zhi’s men discovered them, and the pursuit began, ending only with Meng Di’s rescue.

Though Zhong Ying spoke only of the essentials, Meng Di was deeply moved. Later generations would know only that the Zhou royal house declined and the feudal lords vied for supremacy; the twists and turns of fate went unrecorded, or, if written, had never reached Meng Di’s eyes in his youth.

Now the question remained: what next?

Meng Di hadn’t expected that by saving a life on a whim, he would become entangled in such a mess.

To walk away would weigh on his conscience. Yet wandering from kingdom to kingdom with a dethroned king hardly seemed a wise course either.