31 Unshed Tears (2/2)

The emperor was lost in pain to hear him.

”Xianhuang…” he whispered, his heart aching so deeply. Huizhong felt like his feet would fail him at that moment. He could not stand in the presence of his father could he? The heart is what made the emperor after all.

”Ah... Xianhuang!” He tossed himself on his knees and howled sorrowfully, though tears did not kiss his cheeks. Shen Hong could not shed tears; accursed by his mother who would cover his mouth whenever he cried as a child to hide his existence in the palace. Since then he had grown up as one who could not shed tears when trying to cry.

He pounded his chest with his fist like the pain would go away that way.

”Xianhuang, you have pierced me where it hurts.”

Delicately, he opened the chest with determination to see a part of his father for the last time. A gruesome smell of rotten blood and flesh polluted the air. He looked down at his father's heart that was now more of brown, slime dark green color. It was evident that the person who killed his father had savagely stabbed his father's heart a thousand times, as it was shredded into pieces.

Huizhong's hand quivered at this. He couldn't begin to imagine the pain his father must have felt in his sleep, with every stab, every piercing.

Undone, Shen Hong loudly wailed in immense agony.

Huticah had to suffer. Oh they had to drink the same bitter cup they served him, but that and more.

”Take my decree,” he ordered, and feet alacritously shuffled around him, eager to do everything in excellence especially when he was in such a foul mood.

”Minister of Law, I want every person suspected for my father's death to die tonight. Let their blood be on my account,” he acidicly commanded. ”Each of them must have a thousand snares on their heart.”

”But your majesty,” the Minister of Law whimpered, ”they are all not responsi―”

”Now!” Huizhong dismissed him decisively.

It was a while later when Huizhong trudged along the dusty road, beer in hand and the chest on the other.

”Your Highness, the whole court will be angry if they are to find that you have buried the Fallen Dragon's heart by yourself, let we wait until tomorrow morning and follow our custom.” Zhi Peng, his personal advisor trailed behind him.

Still, the emperor progressed to walk towards the Imperial Burial Temple without a word.

Eunuch Nam spoke right after Zhi Peng, ”Good news to lighten his majesty, the fire explosive has been spotted―”

”Good news?” Huizhong stopped. ”What can be good on this day?”

”Your majesty―”

”Leave me.” He gave a low threat and the two dispersed to a far away distance where the rest of the entourage was. They were far enough to not be spotted by him, yet still able to present themselves if he called.

Only Luo Meng stayed behind, silently shadowing the emperor like any other day.

”Luo Meng, I will prepare some fire here while you go hunt for some meat,” Shen Hong kicked a few paddles that he would use. He wished to dine with his father for the last time before they bid him farewell. Ahead was an hour walk which he knew would feel like a couple of minutes. Such a long tenacious walk was nothing to him on this particular day when the weight of loss rested on his shoulders. This was why he had chosen to walk than ride to the temple. He was not ready to part with his father and he would do much to prolong that from happening.

The Fallen Dragon was his best friend, confidant, mentor, leader, visionary. He was everything to him.

Memories in which his father taught him how to ride a horse, showed him how to play the gu qin and how to hunt… started flooding him.

”Xianhuag… ah Xianhuang,” he sobbed dryly, frustrated that he could not let out his emotions and release the pain. All of it was trapped inside: turmoil, bitterness and angst.

They said crying made it all better but what about him who couldn't?

***

When Luo Meng came back, he found the emperor slumped on the ground, having a drunk conversation with himself like the Fallen Dragon was sitting next to him. Anyone who would watch, would cry in despondency for the emperor was quite pitiful.

Luo Meng coaxed him gently, ”Come, we shall eat and go bury Xianhuang.”

Realising that Luo Meng was back, the emperor rose up as one under the influence, but then fell on the ground sozzled.

'It is better this way,' Luo Meng thought.

That way he would not remember the pain of laying his own father to rest. And maybe that way he could forget his inability to cry and actually shed tears.

But that never happened. The emperor didn't cry.

Translation

[1] Xianhuang - means father who is also an emperor, but used only on emperor who has passed on.

[2]Fuhuang - a father who is also an emperor, used on a living emperor.

S.V