Winter had only just begun when Prince Shao, already frail and sickly, fell ill from overwork in office. Then a sudden chill struck him down once more.
Like a grievously wounded man dealt another crushing blow, he was sicker this time than ever before. Utterly weakened, he swiftly reached the point where no medicine could help and his life hung by a thread. Neither changing his clothes, nor hiring new physicians, nor having the hardy Huo Qilang watch over him day and night brought any improvement.
Everyone understood that this was no longer the work of baleful forces, but the course of fate. This young man, who had once galloped freely across the polo field, had spent years hiding his brilliance and biding his time, enduring in silence. With extraordinary cunning, he had turned the heavens and earth around in a hopeless situation and finally seized the strategic stronghold of Youzhou. They had thought sweetness would follow all that bitterness. Who could have foreseen that Heaven would deny him his years?
Following the usual precedent, they ought to have brought out the coffin and funeral canopy again to prepare for his death. But on Li Yuanying's orders, those around him kept his grave illness under a tight seal. No news left his bedchamber; they had resolved to keep his death secret.
On the day of Minor Snow, he asked to leave the city.
As the lord of Youzhou, he no longer needed to disguise himself and slip past the guards. A grand ceremonial procession escorted his carriage slowly through the stronghold's southern gate, heading toward Youzhou Terrace.
The Scenic Pavilion stood quietly beneath a clear sky. The scaffolding outside had long since been removed, and it had now become a new symbol of Youzhou Command's thirst for worthy men and