Chapter 1: The Weak Emperor Turns Tyrant

“Your Majesty, this is a medicinal soup I simmered for two hours while carrying your child. Lately, your complexion has seemed unwell and you’ve been speaking little. The palace physicians say it’s the chill of year’s end settling in. Once you drink the soup, you’ll recover.”

In the spacious hall, the young man addressed as Majesty was sitting on the couch. He was tall and well-proportioned, with bright red lips, immaculate white teeth, a straight nose, and wide, expressive eyes—a figure of striking presence. Yet now, his embroidered robes hung open, his hair was somewhat disheveled, and he looked thoroughly dejected.

“Consort, go and rest. Leave the soup here. When it’s cooled a bit, I... I’ll drink it. Tell the Empress to come and attend me.”

The young woman holding the soup could hardly be more than seventeen or eighteen years old. She was fair-skinned and beautiful, her figure shapely, though her belly was now slightly rounded—clear proof of several months’ pregnancy. Hearing his words, she could only set down the steaming bowl and leave, pausing to glance back at him with every few steps.

“You all wait outside as well. When the Empress arrives, let her come in alone to feed me the medicine.”

With that languid command, the maids at the door withdrew quietly.

The young emperor surveyed his surroundings with another sigh.

He had occupied this body for three days now, and still found it hard to accept. Shot dead in the line of duty while pursuing drug traffickers, he’d transmigrated into one of the most pitiable emperors in the history of China—one who would surely rank among the top three for sheer helplessness: Liu Xie. Posthumously known as the Emperor Xian of Han.

This was the year 199 AD, the end of the fourth year of Jian’an, in the imperial lodge at Xu Chang.

Over the past three days, Liu Xie had sifted through all the memories in his mind, filtering them through the eyes of a former policeman. He had come to a grim realization: he seemed caught in a dead end. The world here was almost nothing like the one he’d read about in the old romances. Or perhaps, all the boys of his past life had been completely misled by those tales!

End of Jian’an’s fourth year—he remembered this historical juncture perfectly. The secret edict he’d set in motion to wrest power was on the verge of exposure. The very first thing he wanted to do upon realizing he’d transmigrated was to alert Dong Cheng and Wang Zifu, to quickly devise a plan.

But when the memories surfaced, Liu Xie was bewildered: nothing matched the familiar events from the old stories. He’d never issued any secret edict!

Though Cao Cao had held military authority in Xu Chang these past years, he had always been respectful and diligent, personally campaigning east and west. Dong Cheng, the General of Chariots and Cavalry, was the one always bustling about, even going so far as to forcibly install his own daughter as a favored consort a year ago—much to the Empress’s and his own dismay.

The old tales might have exaggerated, but surely the secret edict was not a complete fabrication.

Evidently, this was a case of a forged imperial order—Dong Cheng had used his name to hoodwink Liu Bei and the others! If the plot failed, Cao Cao would never believe it was merely Dong Cheng’s doing. He would see it as: “Here I am, campaigning for the Han, and you want to stab me in the back?” If he didn’t move against me, who else would he move against?

After three days, Liu Xie finally saw it clearly: in this vast Xu Chang, the only one he could truly trust was likely the Empress. Empress Fu Shou had been by his side for years, unwavering in her loyalty and courage.

More importantly, his father-in-law, Fu Wan, was a man of some intelligence. If he wanted to change his circumstances, for now, there was no one else he could rely on.

To reach this point as emperor—Liu Xie could hardly believe it himself. No wonder he’d been listless and dispirited these last few days, as if recovering from a grave illness.

“Your Majesty, Consort Dong says you refuse to take your medicine. In this biting cold, you can’t afford to be careless!”

As he was thinking, a gentle, soft voice sounded. Liu Xie turned to find the Empress had quietly seated herself at his side, holding the now-cool bowl of soup.

“I’m not ill—just troubled by overthinking. Don’t worry.”

It was the most normal sentence he’d uttered in days. Fu Shou could only set the soup aside, sensing something different about Liu Xie today, though she couldn’t say exactly what it was.

“What does the Empress think of the General of Chariots and Cavalry—toward me, and toward the Han dynasty? Speak low, in my ear.”

Fu Shou was taken aback. Since Dong Cheng had escorted them to Luoyang and all the way to Xu Chang, he had been one of Liu Xie’s most trusted elders. Especially after presenting his daughter to the harem, Dong Cheng had enjoyed near-nightly favor until the consort became pregnant.

“Just say it, Empress. Otherwise, both our positions—and the very fate of the Han—are at stake!”

No one wanted to curse their own downfall, even as a troubled emperor. With Liu Xie urging her, Fu Shou straightened her back, clenched her teeth, and pressed her knees together, whispering, “It’s true the General of Chariots and Cavalry performed a great service escorting Your Majesty, but even then he allowed his soldiers to snatch brocades from my own hands and kill my maids at a whim. That reveals his true nature. If the military command were not in Cao Mengde’s hands, Dong Cheng would have become the next Dong Zhuo!”

She had never dared voice these words before, thinking Liu Xie would scold her as a jealous woman, envious of Consort Dong’s nightly favors.

To her astonishment, Liu Xie merely nodded, saying, “Indeed, it is just as you say!”

“Has Your Majesty heard some news?”

Military power lay with Cao Cao; Dong Cheng had pressed his own daughter into the palace, and the so-called palace servants beyond these doors—who knew whose spies they really were? To Fu Shou, their situation was already as precarious as a stack of eggs; another straw would break it.

“I have learned that, months ago, the General of Chariots and Cavalry joined with General Wang Zifu, Colonel Zhong Ji, Counselor Wu Shuo, and even my uncle Liu Bei to plot the assassination of Cao Cao!”

“What? Assassinate Cao Cao?”

Fu Shou was utterly stunned—wasn’t it Dong Cheng who had invited Cao Cao here in the first place? The wars outside were all being fought by Cao Cao, while Dong Cheng and the others enjoyed their comforts in Xu Chang. What sense did this make?

“If Cao Cao dies, the military will fall into Dong Cheng’s hands. He cannot stand against Yuan Shao, and then our deaths will not be far behind. If the plot is exposed, Cao Cao will think I orchestrated it through Dong Cheng. He might not kill us outright, since he claims to restore the Han, but he will never let us live in peace again.”

Liu Xie himself felt wretched as he spoke. Before him lay a mountain of swords; behind, a sea of flames. It was as if he were forced to choose between suicide and castration.

But now, he had already made his choice. Hard as his circumstances might be, Liu Xie resolved to take his chances—perhaps the worm could become a dragon yet.

This body was frail, but all his skills as a former detective had not been lost.

If history remembered Emperor Xian as weak, then he would steel himself and become, just for once, a tyrant in these troubled times. Only violence could answer violence, and only thus could he see it through to the end!