Imperial Father's Dragon Robe - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

In the Fifteenth Year of Xining, I was only nine years old.

But for a child who had lived through the fall of her country and the ruin of her home, there was no innocence left to speak of.

That year,

the Northern Di cavalry swept south, breaking through Lingdu with terrifying speed.

My Imperial Father cared more than anything for dignity. He said a ruler should die with his state. He said the people of Southern Tang would rather die than surrender.

Because of those words, the soldiers and commoners of Lingdu took up swords and hoes, using their flesh and blood to resist. Even seven-year-old children climbed the city walls to hurl stones and set fires.

Yet three days later, Imperial Father, who had resolved to die for the nation, personally opened the city gates and knelt in surrender.

All because the Northern Di had promised him a lifetime of food, clothing, and comfort.

The dignity of a fallen ruler was preserved, but the nightmare of the women of the Southern Tang Imperial Family was far from over.

They were tied to pillars and forced to the ground, used by those savage, perverse Northern Di men.

Half a month later, they were driven like livestock to the Northern Di Royal City, reduced to slaves for the Northern Di to trample at will.

As for Imperial Father, who had been granted the title Marquis of Cherished Life, he was allowed to wear that tattered dragon robe and live a life of drunken revelry in Northern Di.

My Imperial Father was a muddleheaded ruler who sold out his country for glory.

And the King of Northern Di, already past fifty that year, was even less human.

He knew Southern Tang women valued chastity above all, so he forced the consorts to put on revealing, seductive dance garments and dance with golden bells fastened around their ankles.

Whenever that happened, my Imperial Father, who had always been skilled in music, would kneel beside them and play accompaniment.

When the King of Northern Di was in high spirits, he would drink deer blood with his soldiers, tear away the consorts’ silk skirts, and take them wherever they fell.

Imperial Father, wearing his old dragon robe, would personally fetch water and wipe them clean, clapping and fawning all the while-

“Your Majesty is truly mighty! The warriors of Northern Di are truly valiant!”

For those who carried the shame of a fallen nation, simply staying alive was endless torment.

Because I was ugly, the brutal Northern Di often locked me in a cage and forced me to eat pig feed for their amusement.

I tried to kill myself, but someone fished me out of the pond.

When I woke from my stupor, Consort Shu, who had always doted on me, slapped me hard across the face.

“Li Changle, the hatred of our fallen nation has yet to be avenged. What right do you have to die-

“We risked everything to keep you alive. What right do you have to die!”

Later, I learned to behave.

No matter how maliciously the Northern Di toyed with me or frightened me, I neither cried nor made a fuss.

After a while, they actually found it boring and sent me off to do hard labor instead.

Other slaves once asked curiously why I had changed so much.

I stroked the scars on my face and said nothing.

Under a cruel and fickle fate, death was the easiest thing in the world.

But if you were the child everyone had protected with their lives,

then you had no right to die.

My imperial sister-in-law died on the road to Northern Di in order to keep me safe.

Through torment that made us lower than dogs, it was the consorts who desperately protected me, risking their lives to steal medicine when I was ill, sacrificing themselves to beg for food to fill my stomach…

Bearing the shame of a fallen nation, walking step by step into deathtraps, they never once gave up. Again and again, they told me:

“Live! Only by living can we restore our country!”

Only then did I understand:

Though Lingdu had fallen, Southern Tang had never truly perished.

The Southern Tang soldiers in the Six Prefectures of Cangwu were still fighting to the death.

And the commander leading them was none other than Consort Xian’s elder brother, General Xu Zijing.

The Xu family had produced generals for generations, spilling their blood on the battlefield to protect Southern Tang.

That final stretch of territory, defended with the lives of Southern Tang soldiers,

was the hope of every person of Southern Tang.

Hope was a power stronger than anything else in this world.

Every day after we came to Northern Di, the two consorts plotted how to take me to the Six Prefectures of Cangwu.

Until half a year later, when we discovered a steep, dangerous mountain path.

If the plan went safely, we would be able to join General Xu in the shortest possible time.

To make our escape go smoothly,

Consort Shu secretly collected shoes the Northern Di no longer wore, altered them to fit, and had me hide them along that trail.

The mountain road was rugged. We had to protect our feet.

Only by moving fast enough could we escape the Northern Di pursuit.

But on the very day before we were to flee, that hidden mountain path was suddenly placed under heavy guard.

Several Northern Di slaves had also accidentally discovered the path, and when they tried to escape, they were found by the Northern Di guards.

The mountain road was destroyed, and the foot of the mountain was subjected to strict searches.

If we wanted to leave the Northern Di Royal City, we could only risk disguising ourselves and slipping out through the gates.

But to leave the city, we had to obtain a special travel permit used by the Northern Di.

Just when we were at our wits’ end, Consort Xian, who had been born into a military family, stood up.

“I’ll find a way to handle the travel permits.”

And from that day on, I never saw Consort Xian again.