Rebirth: Phoenix Riding the Ninth Heaven

The next day, while Shen Yuanzhang was attending court, the eunuch who served the retired emperor hurried into the hall. He looked nervous, with beads of sweat on his forehead, as if he had something important to report. He first whispered a few words to the eunuch beside him. After hearing this, the eunuch's face instantly turned pale and his body began to tremble slightly. Then, he walked over to Shen Yuanzhang and whispered, "Your Majesty, the retired emperor's health has worsened. I'm afraid... I'm afraid..." At this point, his voice gradually lowered, and he didn't dare to continue.

Upon hearing this, Shen Yuanzhang's face flashed with fear, his brow furrowing slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. He remained silent for a moment, then hurriedly turned and left without saying anything, leaving the court officials looking at each other in bewilderment. The officials began to discuss and speculate about what had happened that had caused the emperor to leave in such a hurry.

Some thought it might be an emergency within the palace that required the emperor's personal attention; others speculated it was a matter of national security. But no one could know the truth for sure. Shen Yuanzhang hurried into the inner palace, his heart filled with doubt and uneasiness. As he walked, he pondered the news he had just heard. When he arrived at the inner palace, he found his heart even heavier.

He hurried to his father's chambers, but before he could even enter, he saw a group of imperial physicians kneeling in formation beside the bed. Their heads bowed, their expressions tense and solemn, as if the entire world were bearing down on them. His mother sat quietly beside his father's bed, her eyes filled with worry and sorrow, tears visible on her face. His wife, meanwhile, stood guard at the side of the bed, her eyes equally filled with endless worry.

Shen Yuanzhang approached his father's bed with an anxious expression, each step heavy and hesitant. When he finally reached his father's bedside, the sight he saw sank his heart. His father's face was as pale as paper, devoid of color, as if the life itself had gradually left him. His breath was barely perceptible, and he lay quietly on the bed, like a candle in the wind, ready to go out at any moment. His eyes were closed, his face was thin and haggard, and his entire being exuded the aura of a dying lamp.

Shen Yuanzhang felt a pang of pain in his heart. He quickly stepped forward and grasped his father's hand tightly, his voice trembling with anxiety as he called out, "Father! Please open your eyes and see! Your son is here!" Tears welled up in his eyes, and his voice was filled with anxiety and worry. He kept calling out, hoping to jolt his father back to life: "Father, please open your eyes and see! Your son is here!" Each cry was filled with deep pain and helplessness, as if pouring all his emotions into this call.

The Emperor's tightly closed eyes slowly opened, revealing a group of grieving relatives. He feigned a nonchalant air and said, "Don't be sad. This day will come to everyone." Then, he turned to Shen Yuanzhang and began to explain some important court affairs and important officials. He told Shen Yuanzhang which officials could be used and which were double-dealers and needed to be wary of. With each sentence, the Emperor coughed, his voice growing weaker and weaker. Shen Yuanzhang was anxious and kept asking the Emperor to stop and rest, but the Emperor insisted on finishing.

The retired emperor clutched his hand tightly, reciting the past as if to pour out all his memories. His family gathered around his bed, tears streaming down their cheeks. They looked at him with sorrowful eyes, hoping to catch just one more glimpse. However, his breathing grew weaker and weaker, and finally, amidst the retired emperor's nagging, he closed his eyes and breathed his last. A heavy atmosphere filled the room, and everyone's heart was deeply pierced.

The Empress Dowager threw herself on the person above her and cried bitterly, "How could you bear to leave me alone like this? You left me, an orphan and a widow, how am I going to live in the future?"

Hearing the Empress Dowager's cries, sadness spread throughout the room. Wang Yuyan, the Emperor Qian, knelt before the bed. Hearing the cries, he felt an overwhelming sense of grief and burst into tears. His cries were like a cold wind, blowing through everyone's heart and filling the room with sorrow and despair.

The imperial doctors knelt trembling in the room, their faces pale and their eyes filled with fear and anxiety. They didn't know what their fate would be, whether they would be implicated by the Empress Dowager's illness. They were afraid that Emperor Qian would be furious and execute them all. This unknown fear made them unable to control their emotions, and they also burst into tears.

The atmosphere in the room was suffocatingly heavy, as if time had stood still. Everyone was lost in endless sorrow, unable to extricate themselves. The Empress Dowager's illness weighed heavily on everyone's hearts, suffocating them. The cries of Wang Yuyan, Shen Yuanzhang, and the imperial physicians echoed in every corner of the room, like a helpless struggle against fate.

As the news of the Emperor's passing was confirmed, a solemn silence enveloped the entire palace. Bells and drums rang out, mournful music filled the air, announcing the loss of the Dashun leader. Immediately, the imperial court declared a three-year period of mourning for the entire nation. During this period, all celebrations were suspended, and officials at all levels were required to wear mourning clothes as a sign of mourning. Inside the palace, the once ornate and colorful decorations were replaced with black gauze and white silk, and even the air felt heavy with sadness.

Wang Yuyan had just finished her marriage yesterday, and today such a big thing happened. He hadn't reacted yet and could only cry. But these things have precedents. The officials of the Ministry of Rites were mobilized according to the rules.

The palace had just witnessed the crown prince ascending the throne and the crown princess being named Queen Kun. The next day, news came that the retired emperor had passed away. The entire harem fell into deathly silence. No one dared to talk or laugh loudly anymore. The entire atmosphere in the harem was depressing and boring.

For months, sometimes even a year, before the official funeral procession, the imperial court would invest considerable resources and manpower in meticulous preparations. This included selecting an auspicious date, planning the funeral route, preparing funeral supplies, and rehearsing the ritual steps. Each step was to strictly adhere to the rules and regulations recorded in ancient texts, with no room for error. Furthermore, advance notification was required to ensure that all vassal states, foreign envoys, and important domestic figures could attend the national funeral on time.

Before the funeral, the deceased's face would be covered with a white cloth, symbolizing purity and the liberation of the soul, to prevent the outside world from disturbing the deceased's peace. For high-ranking nobles such as the Emperor Taishang, the coffin might be wrapped in a yellow curtain, which symbolizes imperial power and nobility.

At the front of the funeral procession, a mage or Taoist priest will usually clear the way with instruments such as bronze mirrors, peach wood swords, and bells to ward off evil spirits and ensure the safety of the coffin. In some places, salt or rice is sprinkled to purify the path and prevent unclean things from disturbing the deceased.

On the day of the funeral, while it was still dark, the palace was already brightly lit. In the silence, the coffin was slowly carried out of the chamber, draped in a thick yellow silk, a symbol of imperial power and dignity. Atop the coffin rested the emperor's portrait, its face still majestic. With the sound of a deep trumpet, the funeral procession slowly advanced, beginning its long and solemn journey.

The funeral procession was a visual feast, grand in scale and meticulously organized. At the front stood the royal guards, mounted on warhorses and wielding lances. Their presence served as a vanguard, leading the entire procession forward. Following closely behind were dozens of sturdy sedan chair bearers, carrying the coffin on their shoulders with steady steps. Next came the procession of civil and military officials, their robes flowing and their expressions solemn. Behind them, a band played mournful melodies, intertwining with the chanting of monks and Taoists, creating a transcendental atmosphere. At the rear of the procession were the royal family and concubines, sitting and standing, tears glistening in their eyes, their faces filled with sorrow, silently expressing their deepest regret for the late emperor.

Wherever the funeral procession passed, whether in bustling cities or tranquil villages, citizens spontaneously emerged from their homes, lined the roadsides, and bowed their heads in silence. Some silently scattered handfuls of paper money, while others released white doves to express their grief for the late emperor. Children, held tightly in their parents' arms, watched with curiosity and awe at these unprecedented scenes. It was as if the entire nation had temporarily put aside its daily hustle and bustle, immersed in a deep sense of remembrance and mourning.

After hours, sometimes even days, of trekking, the funeral procession finally reached its destination: the Imperial Cemetery. Far from worldly concerns, this tranquil setting, surrounded by picturesque scenery and mountains, is considered the ideal resting place for the soul. The coffin was placed in a pre-prepared stone vault, surrounded by intricate carvings and murals documenting the late emperor's life's achievements. As the final stone slowly descended, the coffin was completely sealed, marking the emperor's body and soul forever united with this land, becoming a part of history.

Though the mourning period ended, grief lingered. On traditional festivals like Qingming Festival and the Winter Solstice, as well as on the anniversary of the late emperor's death, members of the imperial family and loyal ministers and generals would visit the mausoleum, offering flowers and incense, reminiscing about the past and praying for the late emperor's blessing. This ongoing commemoration served both as a comfort to the deceased and as a means of preserving the late emperor's legacy. In the hearts of future generations, the late emperor's image gradually became a symbol of the nation, inspiring generations to tirelessly strive for the prosperity and strength of the nation.

Shen Yuanzhang and Wang Yuyan had endured the past few months of attending the funeral of the retired emperor, leaving them exhausted both physically and mentally. Her already thin frame had become even thinner, her cheeks sunken, her eyes bloodshot and dull, as if she had lost her soul. Her skin had also become loose, losing its former elasticity and radiance, and she looked much older than her actual age.