Chapter 891: Zhao Gou Confesses, The Era Ends

Chapter 891: Chapter 85: Zhao Gou Confesses, The Era Ends

It was night.

The moonlight washed over the scene, and the stars shone brilliantly.

The cold radiance fell upon the Song Army camp, yet it failed to illuminate the deathly silence and ruin.

The daytime clamor and chaos had passed, leaving behind the remains of an almost deserted camp.

Most of the campfires had extinguished, leaving only scattered embers flickering with a dim red glow.

The tents leaned askew, fences had been knocked down, barriers and carts overturned, and the ground was littered with abandoned armor, banners, and scattered personal belongings, as if it had all weathered a catastrophe.

There was an eerie quietude in the air, like the aftermath of a disaster, occasionally punctuated by muffled groans from wounded soldiers somewhere, adding to the desolation.

Inside the central military tent, the lights were dim.

Zhao Gou gradually awakened, feeling weak all over, with a splitting headache.

He forced his eyes open, greeted by the familiar yet spacious-looking tent ceiling, and the anxious, aged face of Wang Jin, the old eunuch who had attended to him since childhood.

“Your Majesty! You… you have finally awoken!”

Seeing Zhao Gou open his eyes, Wang Jin was overjoyed to tears, his voice quivering with sobs, yet fearful to raise it, suppressing it with slight jerks of his shoulders.

Zhao Gou opened his mouth, but his throat was too dry to produce sound. Wang Jin quickly brought warm water, carefully helping him take a few sips.

“Why… is it so quiet outside?” Zhao Gou’s voice was hoarse and weak, tinged with an unnoticed fear.

Tears welled up in Wang Jin’s eyes, and he fell to his knees by the bed, sobbing uncontrollably: “Your Majesty… everything’s in chaos, all in chaos!”

“The soldiers… the soldiers heard that Jiangnan was lost, their homes were gone, they’ve… they’ve all fled!”

“Couldn’t stop them, couldn’t stop them at all!”

“Some fled, some dispersed, and still… others went north… Such a large military camp, now… now barely anyone remains!”

Zhao Gou listened quietly, his face devoid of expression, neither anger nor panic, only a numbness ashen as death.

He attempted to move but felt like all his strength had been drained, even lifting his arm was incredibly difficult.

The mad slaughter and shouting of the daytime had exhausted his final will.

“Your Majesty… what… what should we do now?” Wang Jin raised tearful eyes, his voice filled with despair and helplessness.

For these eunuchs, their lives were tightly bound to the emperor’s; his rise was theirs, his fall was theirs. If the emperor perished, there was no hope for them.

Zhao Gou stared blankly at the tent ceiling, his gaze vacant.

What to do?

He didn’t know either.

Yingtian was gone, Jiangnan was lost, the army scattered… Now he was like a stray dog, trapped in the empty camp, with Gu Hui eyeing him like prey, and Jin Soldiers occupying his base, the vast realm seeming to offer no place for him to take root.

“I… I am the Emperor…” he muttered, his voice nearly inaudible, yet failing to convince even himself.

Seeing him in this state, Wang Jin grew even more anxious and fearful; he crawled closer, whispering in Zhao Gou’s ear with a desperate determination: “Your Majesty! Things have come to this… the old servant dares… perhaps… perhaps only by… only by admitting faults to Julu… to Grand Tutor Gu… bowing one’s head…”

Zhao Gou’s cloudy eyes moved slightly, a fleeting sense of instinctive aversion and humiliation passing through, but he lacked the strength to be angered.

Noticing he hadn’t immediately rebuked, Wang Jin’s courage grew slightly; he continued to plead, tearfully: “Your Majesty!”

“The Gu Clan is ultimately a subject, always… always mindful of past ties.”

“The Jin invaders… they are a Foreign Race, barbaric by nature! Heading north, even if… even if temporarily suffering some humiliation, at least… at least could… could survive, Your Majesty!”

The two words, “survive,” struck Zhao Gou’s heart like a heavy hammer.

He closed his eyes, tears seeming to form at the corners.

Indeed, to survive.

All notions of imperial majesty, of emperor’s dignity, at the collapse of the state, seem paltry compared to the grim reality and harshness of simply “surviving.”

His withered fingers curled slightly, ultimately saying nothing more, only the heavy sound of his breathing stood out in the silent imperial tent.

Droplets of tears continued to slide from his eyes.

Whether feeling humiliated, or regretting his actions over the years, it was unclear.

Thus, it continued until after quite some time, he finally nodded slightly.

“Fine!”

“Have someone at once… express my disposition.”

…

Guidefu.

“It’s not that he knows he’s wrong, but rather that he’s afraid.”

Facing Yue Fei, Gu Hui spoke calmly, his expression entirely indifferent, as though completely unconcerned with Zhao Gou’s status.

Yue Fei furrowed his brow, his fierce eyes reflecting a complex emotion; he clasped his hands, speaking in a deep voice: “Young Master, though Zhao Gou has been so benighted, he was once the ruler shared by the realm; if directly… might tarnish Young Master’s reputation, and chill the hearts of those who still remember their former lord.”

“How should we handle it?”

This was his real question.

Perhaps it was precisely because Zhao Gou was overly ignorant, to the extent that even someone like Yue Fei had become clear-minded at this moment.

Upon hearing this, Gu Hui’s lips curled into a slight indifferent smile; he slowly walked to the window, gazing at the heavy night outside, as if he could see through the darkness to the distant, forlorn emperor.

“Pengju’s words are not without reason.” Gu Hui’s voice remained calm and unruffled, “Killing, certainly cannot kill.”

“At least, not now.”

He turned around, his eyes sharp and composed, looking at Yue Fei: “Moreover, this Zhao Gou, for us, indeed is not entirely useless.”