The Lonely Monarch 07

The emperor accidentally set his bedchamber on fire while playing with flames.

Sima Ci was terrified—this was no time for the emperor to be in danger. Fortunately, when he rushed to the palace, he saw Fang Zhiyi sitting by the bridge, his face covered in soot, staring at the charred remains of the bedchamber.

Fang Zhiyi immediately reached out to borrow money from him to rebuild the palace. Sima Ci, knowing the emperor was short on funds, sighed and dug into his own pockets. What he didn’t know was that Fang Zhiyi had the palace rebuilt as a shoddy, cut-corner project, and with that single move, the emperor’s coffers swelled instantly.

Once the palace was restored, Fang Zhiyi was in high spirits and summoned Sima Cheng. The two greeted each other warmly, sharing a mutual love for wine, and promptly began drinking.

After several rounds, Fang Zhiyi naturally brought up the matter of Sima Cheng’s family.

"Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think you’d make a far better chancellor than your brother. What’s he doing as a general, eating sand in the northwest all day?" Fang Zhiyi hiccuped drunkenly. "If you were chancellor, we could drink together every day. I’d even have a palace built just for you here!"

At first, Sima Cheng was excited, but then his expression darkened. Some things, if left unspoken, wouldn’t bother a carefree man like him. But once someone—especially someone of status and authority, who seemed to be on his side—voiced them, the words lodged deep in his heart.

"Brother Emperor, you don’t understand. My younger brother has always been better than me at reading and writing. I was happy for him—after all, he’s my brother. But… ah, never mind." He waved his hand and took another swig of wine.

Fang Zhiyi smiled and changed the subject. Some things lost their effect if overdone. The seed had been planted. If even imperial princes fought tooth and nail for the throne, how could the powerful Sima family be free of succession struggles? Who would believe that?

At first, Sima Cheng forgot about it once he sobered up, riding off to the military camp as usual. But after the second and third time, his mindset began to shift—especially when Fang Zhiyi drunkenly promised to make him a duke once his father retired. Sima Cheng grew restless. Unlike his father or Sima Jue, he wasn’t scheming by nature. But with military power in his hands and a dukedom within reach, why should he keep deferring to Sima Jue?

The more he thought about it, the more Sima Jue irritated him. Their father had been taking Sima Jue everywhere lately, and all the officials fawned over him. Sima Cheng’s envy and resentment burned hotter by the day.

Every time Sima Cheng was summoned, it was under the empress’s name. The eunuchs reported nothing unusual, so Sima Ci paid it no mind. He knew his daughter got along well with his eldest son, and the emperor, never the brightest, drinking with Sima Cheng wasn’t strange. Right now, he was too busy transferring power to his younger son to worry about such things.

When unrest flared up again in the northwest, Sima Cheng prepared to depart the next day.

Fang Zhiyi summoned him once more, expressing deep reluctance to see him go. Sima Cheng was touched—he hadn’t expected his brother-in-law to care so much. The emperor even assigned a few imperial guards to protect him personally. Though Sima Cheng tried to refuse, Fang Zhiyi insisted: "Brother-in-law, don’t argue. The battlefield is ruthless. If anything happened to you, who would I drink with?"

"And if you were gone, would I have to share my wine and conversations with Sima Jue?"

At those words, Sima Cheng thought of his brother. If he died, Sima Jue would seize both military and political power, just like their father, while he’d be left as a corpse wrapped in a horse’s hide...

"In that case, thank you, Your Majesty!" Sima Cheng knelt in gratitude.

"No, no, that’s not enough. Fuhai! You’re going too!"

Fuhai: "Huh?"

"What do you mean, ‘huh’? The northwest is harsh. Take a few clever eunuchs with you to attend to my brother-in-law!"

Sima Cheng was genuinely moved. What a shame his brother-in-law would be dead in a few years.

With Fang Zhiyi’s reluctant farewell, Sima Cheng set off with a dozen imperial guards and several eunuchs in tow.

Eunuch Li emerged from the shadows: "Master, Sima Ci plans to retire once the northwest is pacified."

Fang Zhiyi nodded. "Let’s hope so."

The campaign went smoothly. Within a year, Sima Cheng returned victorious. After nearly a year of the eunuchs’ subtle influence, he didn’t even go home first—he rushed straight to the palace to share the good news with his brother-in-law.

Sima Jue couldn’t help but notice how much more his brother seemed to despise him after this trip.

Still, the brothers kept their conflict under wraps. The next day, at the victory banquet, the aging Sima Ci bowed to the empress dowager and the emperor, formally announcing his retirement. Fang Zhiyi feigned reluctance but eventually consented.

He was grateful—he was far younger than this powerful minister and could afford to wait him out. Otherwise, things would have been troublesome.

The empress dowager inquired about Sima Ying’s pregnancy. As her niece, Sima Ying glanced at Fang Zhiyi, who nodded. She shyly touched her belly, and the entire hall erupted in joy—especially Sima Ci.

His daughter’s pregnancy meant the emperor’s days were numbered. He might live to see the Sima family claim the throne.

"Brother-in-law," Fang Zhiyi said after the banquet, hosting a private feast for Sima Cheng. "You’ve worked hard."

Sima Cheng laughed. "No trouble at all, Brother Emperor. Those barbarians were nothing—utter pushovers!" He paused. "There’s something I’d like to ask of you."

Fang Zhiyi nodded. "Go on."

"Those imperial guards you lent me… I’d like to keep them." During the campaign, they’d guarded him more diligently than his own men. "So I was thinking… could I keep them with me?"

Fang Zhiyi feigned surprise, frowning. "But..."

Sima Cheng’s mood soured at his hesitation.

"It’s not about me, but the guards were loaned from the imperial army. General Wang Zhong… I can’t just overrule him."

"Is that all? Leave it to me!" Sima Cheng thumped his chest.

"Still, General Wang Zhong has been rather close to your brother lately..." Fang Zhiyi sighed.

At the mention of his brother, Sima Cheng’s temper flared. "That damned Wang Zhong! The moment he sees my brother rising, he starts sucking up. Has he forgotten who saved his life back on the frontier?"

"Brother-in-law, people change. Given the choice between luxury in the capital and hardship on the border, who wouldn’t?" Fang Zhiyi took a sip of wine.

Sima Cheng’s eyes burned with killing intent. "I still hold military power!"

The moment the words left his mouth, he realized his mistake and hurriedly apologized. "Your Majesty, I spoke out of turn. Please forgive me."

Fang Zhiyi smiled. "No need for formalities between us." He knew Sima Cheng wasn’t afraid of him—but of his father.