After the Passing

Having shed the black dragon robe belonging to the Prime Minister of Great Yan, Xu Yinhe walked alone along the road he had taken into the capital all those years ago, heading out of the city. On the final journey of this man who had devoted his life to the realm, there was no ten-mile avenue of farewell. There was only his retreating figure slowly blending into the crowd.

Scenes from the past rose before his eyes. When he had first entered the capital, riding down its streets beneath the gazes of noble heirs overlooking him from the mansions lining the Imperial Avenue—it felt like yesterday. With a flick of the fingers, decades had passed. The streets remained thronged with people; the children who had once run along them were now bent with age. Most of the old buildings had been rebuilt beyond recognition, while the owners of those gazes had become dry bones beneath his feet.

He had arrived at this center of power under the eyes of all, and now quietly departed from a corner no one noticed. Yet this land would remember that a spark had once traced the most brilliant path across the curtain of an age.

All the way out of the city—the life he had spent in court—at death's door, the once thunderous arguments and table-slamming had all become grains of sand slipping away through his fingers.

Victory or defeat need not rest with him. He had a confidant who had stood by him all his life, a beloved woman who had never left his side, children whose whole family rejoiced together, and a successor who had taken the torch from his hand and continued onward.

Xu Yinhe felt that this life of his had been enough.

Smiling, he left Di'an City and headed