Ever since Fu Xian entered the capital to take up the post of commander of the Imperial Guard, an unease had lingered in Mei Yan’s heart. For several days in a row, he dreamed of the battle of Yingtian twelve years ago between Beicang and Later Yue.
Yingtian had once been the northernmost strategic stronghold of Later Yue, the first city encountered by Beicang’s southern advance. During the reign of the late emperor Song Ting, the valiant general Fu Changlin had been stationed there. That year, Pei Hui dispatched the fierce general Shen Yiheng to lead troops south for the first time, aiming straight at Yingtian.
The battle went extremely poorly.
Half a year after the Beicang army marched south, it was the eleventh day of the twelfth lunar month. The bitter winter sky was overcast with dark clouds, the sun still hidden behind them at dawn, casting a gloom over heaven and earth. Pei Hui received an urgent military report from Shen Yiheng, delivered at great speed, stating that more than half the army had fallen, supplies were running out, and Yingtian remained unconquered. The soldiers, in despair, wept day and night and begged to withdraw.
Pei Hui gazed southward and said dejectedly, “Approved. Order Shen Yiheng to retreat.”
In his poor mood, he suddenly thought of his third son, who had been raised in a secluded imperial villa. The eleven-year-old Mei Yan, upon hearing this, unexpectedly spoke up. “Your Majesty, General Shen must not be ordered to withdraw.”
It was the first time since coming of age that he had spoken about matters of state before his father, cautious in every word yet sharp and composed.
Pei Hui asked casually, “Explain why.”
Mei Yan replied solemnly, “Your Majesty, I have heard that Yingtian has already become an isolated city under our siege, cut off from reinforcements and provisions. No matter how skilled Fu Changlin is at defending, can the soldiers and civilians inside survive without food and drink? Even if we cannot defeat them outright, if we continue to encircle and wear them down, I believe he will not be able to hold Yingtian for more than a month.”
To withdraw now would mean all previous efforts wasted.
Pei Hui fell into thought, hesitating, when Mei Yan added, “I happen to be traveling south past Yingtian. I request to bring provisions, meat, wine, and silver to reward the troops.”
“What do you think, Jiusi?” “Jiusi” was the courtesy name of Chancellor Zhang Xiliang.
He replied, “At present, the Crown Prince of Later Yue, Song Shi, has died of illness, and Emperor Song Ting is gravely ill. The second prince, Song Yu, is acting as regent. It is said he knows nothing of warfare and is indecisive by nature. General Wei Hu, a close friend of the Fu family, knelt outside the study for hours without receiving a clear answer on whether reinforcements would be sent. It seems Fu Changlin will not receive aid anytime soon. The young lord’s strategy of starving him out is not without merit. However, the journey from Yanzhou to Yingtian is long and arduous, and the young lord is still so young…”
He had already guessed that this suddenly appearing child was likely the third prince.
If anything went wrong, it would be disastrous.
“It is clear that heaven favors Beicang. We will surely take Yingtian this time,” Mei Yan said. “I have trained in martial arts since childhood and am now strong enough to share Your Majesty’s burdens. I ask for your permission.”
His mother’s status was low, and he had no maternal family to rely on. Only by enduring hardship and accomplishing merit could he carve out a place for himself and move Pei Hui to acknowledge him as a prince.
In the end, Pei Hui agreed.
Under his father’s orders, Mei Yan traveled for over a month and finally arrived outside Yingtian on the twenty-ninth day of the twelfth lunar month.
Shen Yiheng came to receive him. The general looked gaunt and haggard. In just half a year, this forty-year-old warrior had turned half gray. Cracked blood crusted his lips, and his voice was hoarse. “I have failed, unable to capture Yingtian after months of fighting. I have let down Your Majesty’s trust.”
Mei Yan, his body stiff with cold and exhaustion from the journey, wrapped his cloak tightly and asked in a youthful voice, “Why has it been impossible to take the city?”
“The defenses of Yingtian are formidable,” Shen Yiheng said with shame. “Its commander, Fu Changlin, is exceptionally skilled in defense. Even with only fifty thousand men, we cannot breach it.”
Yingtian was a crucial choke point for Beicang’s southern advance. To capture it, Pei Hui had dispatched an army of one hundred twenty thousand. Yet despite outnumbering the defenders several times over, they could not take it.
In truth, most of Yingtian’s defenders had already fallen, leaving fewer than twenty thousand.
“Since we cannot take it, we will simply surround it,” Mei Yan said. “Let no one leave, and no one enter. How long can an isolated city endure?”
He then ordered Zhao Cheng to distribute the provisions, wine, meat, and silver brought from Yanzhou to boost morale and stabilize the army.
Mei Yan’s assessment was correct. After half a year under siege, Yingtian had long since run out of food. The people were gaunt and sallow. Even the rats had been eaten to extinction. Cat meat was sour, but no one cared. They swallowed without tasting, only to ease their hunger for another day or two.
Fu Changlin’s feet were so swollen he could no longer wear boots and went barefoot. Looking at his soldiers, he saw they too had swollen feet and no shoes.
Yet none of his deputies advised surrender.
As more people starved to death each day, on the thirteenth day of the first month, the prefect Guo Qin reported that Widow Wang and her two daughters had disappeared without a trace. Their neighbors had signs of cooking at night, raising suspicion…
Within half a day, a pile of freshly buried skulls was unearthed behind the neighbors’ house, the soil stained dark red with blood. Guo Qin placed them one by one before Fu Changlin. “General…”
The widow and her daughters had indeed been killed and eaten.
Fu Changlin froze. Nausea surged within him, and after retching, he collapsed into his chair. “Tonight, I will personally lead the troops and fight Shen Yiheng to the death.”
At the same time, he sent another urgent plea for reinforcements.
Though it was not the ideal moment for battle, he could no longer delay. Otherwise, more acts of cannibalism would occur. He selected one hundred brave men and ordered them to break out during the chaos of battle and deliver the message to the capital at all costs.
From his experience fighting Beicang, he knew they were at the end of their strength. If the court sent even ten thousand reinforcements, they could repel the enemy and save Yingtian.
The hundred men succeeded in escaping and rode hard toward Lin’an.
After waiting for many days, only a few returned with the court’s reply. The regent, Song Yu, merely ordered him to hold the city. There was not a single word about supplies or reinforcements.
The world spun before Fu Changlin’s eyes. His head throbbed with unbearable pain.
At that moment, a soldier rushed in shouting, “General, something is wrong. Prefect Guo has gone mad…”
Fu Changlin hurried to the prefect’s residence and saw Guo Qin disheveled, his official robes filthy, screaming incoherently, “Eat… eat me…”
It was learned that his wife and daughter had gone to find him but vanished midway. Later, half of his daughter’s skeleton was found in a mass grave outside the city, stripped of all flesh.
The blade slipped from Fu Changlin’s hand. Trembling, he said, “Send a letter of surrender to Shen Yiheng.”
Open the gates. Surrender.
Shen Yiheng was known as a refined general who had never committed massacres. Handing over Yingtian to him might at least give the people a chance to live.
Deputy General Chen Qu knelt, his head bleeding as he struck it against the ground. “If you surrender, General, the honor of the Fu family built over generations will be destroyed…”
“I value the lives of Yingtian’s people more than the Fu family’s reputation,” Fu Changlin said.
…
When Shen Yiheng received the surrender letter, he was overjoyed, hardly daring to believe it. Only after verifying it repeatedly did he report to Mei Yan, “Your Highness, Yingtian has surrendered.”
Mei Yan let out a long breath, nearly collapsing as darkness clouded his vision. “General Shen, take over Yingtian properly. I will return to report to His Majesty.”
Shen Yiheng said, “I have heard that cannibalism has occurred in the city. I request to open the granaries to relieve the people.”
Mei Yan nodded. “Do it.”
“And Fu Changlin—do not kill him. Let him serve Beicang.”
Shen Yiheng, who had long admired Fu Changlin, replied, “I will treat him with respect.”
On the twenty-second day of the first month, Beicang troops entered Yingtian. The people wept as they received food, grateful both to Shen Yiheng’s kindness and to Fu Changlin for giving them a chance to live.
That night, however, after removing his armor and watching the city slowly return to life, Fu Changlin knelt toward Lin’an, then took his own life with a sword. His nine-year-old son, Fu Yi, dressed himself properly and leapt from the city wall, following his father in death.
In later years, people only knew that Fu Changlin died in defeat. Few knew that if reinforcements had come, Yingtian would never have fallen.
It had been handed to Beicang by Later Yue itself.
Beicang mourned their deaths and built a shrine in Yingtian to honor their loyalty.
…
But the story did not end there.
A year after Beicang occupied Yingtian, Shen Yiheng died of illness. His successor, Feng Yanqing, narrow-minded and cruel, lured the surrendered Fu army out of the city and buried over ten thousand of them alive beneath Mount Wei.
Their resentful spirits were said to cry in the night.
He even mocked Fu Changlin, ordering the destruction of his shrine and the desecration of his remains, laying their bones beneath the city gates for people to trample.
This became a lifelong wound for Fu Yuan, who in his old age led troops into battle, wearing mourning clothes as he sought vengeance for the fallen.
Fu Xian, raised by his grandfather Fu Yuan, could not be ignorant of these events. The Fu family’s acceptance of Song Yu as emperor without rebellion was already an act of loyalty. There was no way he would willingly remain in Lin’an as a mere commander serving him.
Mei Yan had long suspected that Fu Xian had other motives for coming to the capital. Now, seeing him secretly obstruct the transfer of maps through Cheng Yunxiang, it confirmed his suspicions.
Fu Xian was not here for a minor official post.
He likely intended to force the court into sending troops to reclaim Yingtian and restore his father’s name.
That would be disastrous for Beicang.
He had to act first and eliminate this threat.
Kill him!