In the strong wind, the civil and military officials knelt in a dark mass at the Jade Belt Bridge outside the Xianzhan Gate of Fang City, respectfully inviting the Emperor to enter Fang City and pay homage at the Spirit Hall.
The Emperor, however, remained motionless, standing with his hands behind his back, gazing at the majestic Fang City at the end of the stone path beyond the Xianzhan Gate.
Fang City was built in the middle and rear of the Imperial Mausoleum, guarding the burial chambers at the northernmost part of the mausoleum. From the sacrificial furnace, crossing the Jade Belt River and entering through the Xianzhan Gate, a long stone path led to a gentle slope of 199 stone steps. At the top of these steps was the Xuangong at the base of Fang City.
On the east side of Xuangong was a wooden ladder leading to the top of Fang City, which stood several zhang high. At the center of Fang City’s top, facing south with its back to the north, stood a Spirit Hall enshrining the spirit tablets of all past emperors of the Hua Dynasty. The most important sacrificial ceremony of the annual Imperial Mausoleum grand sacrifice was to be conducted here.
Seeing the Emperor’s delay, the Master of Ceremonies grew uneasy and had to call out again: “Let the music of victory play! The Sacred Procession, Crown Prince, Prince Zhuang, Prince Zhongxiao, and the Imperial Overseer are invited to enter Fang City and pay homage at the Spirit Hall!”
The Emperor let out a long sigh, turned back, and said, “Lord Pei, Lord Wei.”
Pei Yan and Wei Zhao came forward side by side, bowing: “Your Majesty.”
“Your meritorious service in this campaign is outstanding. As per custom, you shall enter with me,” the Emperor said in a gentle voice.
Pei Yan hurriedly replied, “We dare not overstep. Please, Your Majesty, proceed first.”
The Emperor didn’t insist, smiled slightly, and walked through the Xianzhan Gate towards the stone path. Master Ye followed, his form as steady as a mountain, guarding behind the Emperor.
Seeing the Emperor walk more than ten steps, the Crown Prince and Prince Zhuang followed, with Pei Yan and Wei Zhao steadily following behind. As Prince Zhuang turned, his eyes swept over the officials, and his steps became a bit lighter.
Along the stone path, the Light Ministry guards stood straight, their expressions solemn. As the Emperor passed before them, they knelt in succession.
Jiang Yuan, the Commander of the Imperial Guard, emerged from Xuangong with over ten Light Ministry guards. He knelt on one knee before the Emperor and said in a deep voice, “Reporting to Your Majesty, I have thoroughly inspected the Spirit Hall and Fang City. There are no abnormalities. I humbly invite Your Majesty to ascend the city for the sacrifice!”
The Emperor said in a gentle voice, “Lord Jiang, you’ve worked hard. Everyone return to your positions.”
Jiang Yuan stood up after paying his respects and waved his hand. The Light Ministry guards lined up on both sides of the wooden ladder, but Jiang Yuan walked towards Pei Yan and the others.
He approached step by step, his footsteps steady, brushing past Master Ye, the Crown Prince, and Prince Zhuang. Pei Yan happened to look up at that moment, meeting his somewhat anxious gaze.
Pei Yan’s heart stirred as he saw Jiang Yuan’s right hand quietly move to his front, three fingers forming a circle in a gesture.
Pei Yan’s eyes suddenly widened. Jiang Yuan’s lips moved slightly, and Pei Yan carefully discerned the message, his mind exploding. He struggled to control himself, barely maintaining his composure.
That gesture, that lip movement, both conveyed the same message—”There’s gunpowder!”
Jiang Yuan lowered his gaze and walked past Pei Yan, continuing to the Xianzhan Gate where he stood guard with his sword, his expression solemn.
In the cold wind at the foot of Fang City, in that split second, Pei Yan suddenly understood everything.
So, the Emperor had known all along! He had been worried about finding an excuse to eliminate them, and now with Prince Zhuang’s rebellion, as long as High Cheng’s troops were captured and they—himself, San Lang, and Prince Zhuang—were blown up on this altar, the Emperor could easily pin everything on the rebellious Prince Zhuang. This way, even if Ning Jianyu and the Changfeng Cavalry wanted to rebel, they would have no excuse. And once he was dead, the Pei clan would have no strength left to resist. The Emperor could simply honor the Pei clan again and grant him a posthumous title as a loyal official who died protecting the Emperor.
At this moment, the Marquis of Suhai and the troops from the Capital Garrison had probably already surrounded the Imperial Mausoleum, just waiting for High Cheng’s troops to come through the mountain path to spring the trap.
The winter wind howled past, cutting against their faces like cold blades. But Pei Yan felt his back soaked with sweat. Never in his life had he faced such a perilous moment as this. He wanted to act immediately to restrain the Emperor, but the Emperor had likely arranged everything in advance, and hasty action might not succeed. Moreover, with all eyes watching outside the Xianzhan Gate, even if they successfully controlled the Emperor, how could they silence the world’s gossip? But if he backed down now, he would likely not escape disaster. The Emperor had set a trap and was determined to eliminate him; how could he easily let him go?
Ahead, the Emperor had already stepped onto the first rung of the wooden ladder. The air was charged with tension, like a bow drawn to its fullest.
“Flying flowers dance with swords howling to the sky, transforming into cloud dragons soaring to the nine heavens—” Pei Yan finally steeled his resolve. As Wei Zhao walked up to stand beside him, he quickly transmitted a message: “San Lang, there’s gunpowder! You watch the Emperor, I’ll watch the Crown Prince. Don’t leave their sides.”
Wei Zhao drew in a sharp breath, forcefully suppressing it to avoid alerting Master Ye in front of them. He instinctively quickened his pace, supporting the Emperor’s left arm, his voice sounding unfamiliar even to himself: “Your Majesty.”
The Emperor turned back with a smile, patting his hand, and with Wei Zhao’s support, ascended Fang City step by step.
The wind grew stronger, and Wei Zhao’s vision alternated between blurry and clear. The figure in bright yellow before him, her radiant smile before leaving, the thousands of clan members weeping blood and singing at Luofeng Beach, the sword piercing his sister’s body—all these images intertwined and flashed before his eyes.
“Sister will be watching you from there, seeing how you avenge the deep blood debt for father, mother, and our thousands of clansmen—”
“Phoenix, oh phoenix, now returning to the west, your brilliant feathers soar to the sky, rising straight to the nine heavens to look down upon sparrows, break my shackles, and free me from sorrow.”
“Wu Xia, we’re… going to have a kitten—”
Wei Zhao’s heart felt as if it was being carved out, so painful. It turned out there truly was no turning back, no light after the darkness. No matter how he resisted or struggled, the person before him was like a demon, tightly gripping his throat.
He looked back towards the south, where a cloud on the horizon resembled her smile, but it was so distant from him, as far as heaven is from earth. In this life, he would never be able to touch it again.
The heartstring snapped with a breaking pain at this moment. The taste of blood grew stronger in his throat. Wei Zhao struggled to swallow back a mouthful of fresh blood but still coughed lightly.
The Emperor turned to look at him, seeing his face cold but his eyes bright, with a touch of red on his cheeks. He admonished, “I told people to help treat your wounds, but you refused. You’re too willful.”
Wei Zhao’s pupils were slightly red as he stubbornly replied, “San Lang doesn’t like others touching him.”
The Emperor chuckled, turning his head away, but inwardly let out a low sigh.
Footsteps, some light and some heavy. The Emperor and Wei Zhao were in front, Master Ye following, Pei Yan closely beside the Crown Prince, and Prince Zhuang walking last. Along the wooden ladder, the Light Ministry guards knelt one after another, respectfully welcoming the Emperor’s ascent to Fang City. Wei Zhao passed by Yi Wu without even a glance, moving past woodenly.
The Emperor, seemingly weak from his illness, stumbled on the last step of the wooden ladder. Wei Zhao firmly supported him. The Emperor stood straight and gently, but firmly, freed his arm from Wei Zhao’s grasp.
On the high platform, the cold wind was even stronger, but the view was expansive, with high skies and distant clouds, giving a sense of sudden clarity.
The Emperor patted the battlements of Fang City, gazing at the green pines and white snow covering the mountains, and sighed, “Another year has passed. Alas, I’ve grown a year older.”
Prince Zhuang hurriedly came over with a smile, saying, “Heaven’s blessing is upon you, Father Emperor. Your dragon body has recovered, and you will surely live for thousands of autumns and ten thousand years.”
The Emperor stared at him for a moment, then smiled and said, “You’re good with words. Look at your elder brother, he’s like a mute gourd. He should learn from you.”
Prince Zhuang, unsure whether the Emperor’s words were praise or criticism, was momentarily stunned. The Emperor didn’t look at him again and walked on with his hands behind his back. Wei Zhao followed step by step. The two walked along the battlements, reminiscent of their stroll in the Western Palace that morning—one in bright yellow imperial robes, tall and imposing; the other in plain white fur, lithe and nimble.
Prince Zhuang’s gaze swept over the faces of the Light Ministry guards stationed in front of the Spirit Hall. Seeing that most were Wei Zhao’s confidants, including those he had secretly asked Wei Zhao to insert, he felt reassured.
The Emperor stood at the battlements, looking at the officials kneeling outside the Xianzhan Gate in the distance, then turned back to look at the majestic Spirit Hall. He sighed again and said, “It must be nearly the Si hour now.”
Just as Wei Zhao was about to speak, “Dong! Dong! Dong—” The great bronze bell in the bell tower on the west side of the Imperial Mausoleum was struck heavily. Eighty-one peals of the bell announced the official start of the Spirit Hall sacrifice ceremony.
Amidst the bell tolls, the Emperor straightened his wind-ruffled dragon robe and called out, “Crown Prince.”
The Crown Prince, seemingly afraid of the wind, tightly held onto his gauze hat and hurried over. Pei Yan also moved lightly to follow, standing with his hands at his sides.
The Emperor looked at Pei Yan, then said to the Crown Prince, “Go light the incense in the burner. I’m going to pay respects before the spirit tablet of the Holy Ancestor.” Seeing the Crown Prince shrink back, the Emperor said sternly, “Look at your spineless appearance. When will you be able to be like your two brothers?”
The Crown Prince seemed frightened, unable to speak, and turned trembling towards the incense burner in front of the Spirit Hall. Pei Yan quickly followed, taking the incense from beside the burner and presenting it to the Crown Prince with both hands.
Amidst the bell tolls, the Emperor’s deep gaze swept over Wei Zhao’s face, then he smoothed his dragon robe and walked steadily towards the Spirit Hall.
In the bitter cold of winter, the morning mist was thick, completely shrouding Horse Hoof Slope. With thin snow covering the surrounding wilderness, the silence held an eerie quality. High Cheng couldn’t help feeling a bit uneasy. He looked back at his troops, secretly gritted his teeth, steeled his heart, and said coldly, “Advance at full speed.”
To avoid alerting the troops of the Capital Garrison at Jinshi Pass and the Marquis of Suhai, the Hexi Army had not ridden horses but had traveled light with thin armor. They had crept through the night, finally reaching the front of Horse Hoof Slope from Chaoyang Manor.
Seeing the troops in good order, moving without a sound, High Cheng felt somewhat reassured as the long line of soldiers tore through the morning mist and ascended Horse Hoof Slope. The Hexi Army, having suffered heavy losses at Ox Nose Mountain, had retreated to Chaoyang Manor and recuperated for a full half year. Their numbers now exceeded those of the Imperial Guard and the Light Ministry guards. As long as they could successfully pass through the cave at the top of the Horse Hoof Slope and directly enter the Imperial Mausoleum, the situation could be decided, and avenging the High clan would be within reach.
Deputy Commander Luo Zhen came over and said in a low voice, “General, the vanguard has begun passing through the cave.”
High Cheng’s spirits lifted even more. Using his lightness skill, he soon climbed to the cave that had once been hidden by bushes. A messenger came back to report, “Reporting to the General, the vanguard has passed through the cave and reached the valley ahead. No abnormalities have been detected.”
High Cheng was delighted, knowing things were going as planned. He ordered, “Pass down the command for the entire army to speed up passage through the cave.”
By the time it was fully light, all twenty thousand troops had passed through the cave. High Cheng leaped to the mountaintop, where he could faintly see the red walls of Fang City in the Imperial Mausoleum. He finally allowed himself a satisfied smile. He looked at the sky, estimated the time, and calculated that from this valley, crossing the small hill east of the Imperial Mausoleum, taking down Jiang Yuan’s Imperial Guard, changing into their uniforms, then breaking into the Imperial Mausoleum to control the civil and military officials, and finally rushing into Fang City to help the Prince eliminate the Emperor and Crown Prince—there was still time to spare. He passed down the military order to rest for half an hour before setting out.
After the Hexi Army soldiers had rested and were in high spirits, High Cheng personally led the front, leading the soldiers like a long snake winding its way directly toward the Imperial Mausoleum. When they finally climbed the small hill on the east side of the Imperial Mausoleum, he couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.
“Dong! Dong—”
The bell tolls marking the official start of the ceremony finally rang out. To the right of the small hill, birds, seemingly startled by the bell sound, took flight in flocks with a tremendous rustle.
Hearing the bell, High Cheng knew the appointed time had arrived. He waved his hand, and the dark mass of troops rushed down the small hill. But before they could descend the slope, High Cheng sensed something was amiss. However, before he could issue any orders, tens of thousands of men surged out from the forests on both sides of the hill, quickly forming a tiger-wing dragon-tail formation, trapping the Hexi Army on the small hill.
A man in dark armor stepped forward solemnly. His expression was cold, and his voice deep and detached: “General Gao, does the Hexi Army have orders from the Ministry of War to come to the Imperial Mausoleum?!”
Seeing that it was the Marquis of Suhai, known for his unwavering loyalty to the Emperor, High Cheng knew the plan had failed. He instinctively glanced behind him, only to see that the Marquis of Suhai’s troops had already climbed to the back of the small hill, surrounding the Hexi Army. Among them were soldiers wearing the uniforms of the Capital Garrison.
He knew there was no escape today; his only option was to fight to the death. The hatred for the downfall of the Gao clan surged up again. He shouted angrily, “Marquis Suhai is committing treason! The Hexi Army obeys the imperial order to eliminate the traitors. Charge!”
Before his words faded, he had already leaped forward. His cold blade left its sheath, slashing toward Marquis Suhai. The Marquis swiftly retreated, shouting, “Shoot!”
A wild, murderous aura filled the valley. The Hexi Army shouted and charged forward, but Marquis Suhai’s troops were well-trained. Shield bearers protected the archers as they released a volley of powerful arrows. The front ranks of the Hexi Army fell in droves, thrown into chaos.
After the first round of arrows, Marquis Suhai Jiang Yao lowered his hand and shouted, “Charge!”
Marquis Suhai’s 30,000 men plus several thousand elite troops from the Capital Garrison originally had the numerical advantage. This onslaught further boosted their morale, and soon the Hexi Army was routed.
Gao Cheng, wielding his blade, hacked and slashed through the ranks, showing unstoppable bravery. His guards gradually fought their way to his side, protecting him. As more people gathered to protect him, the attackers found it increasingly difficult to break through. Marquis Suhai observed this clearly and silently raised his right hand.
Although Gao Cheng was in a killing frenzy, he still maintained some clarity. Seeing that the path of retreat was blocked, he knew that even if he escaped back, it would be a dead end. Instead, he decided to steel himself and make a desperate rush to the Imperial Mausoleum. If he could still assist Prince Zhuang in succeeding, there might be a glimmer of hope for survival.
Leading about 3,000 men, like a long blade cutting through snow, they engaged in brutal combat. They finally forced Marquis Suhai’s frontline troops into disarray, creating a small gap.
Knowing this opportunity couldn’t be missed, Gao Cheng let out a fierce shout and was the first to leap towards this gap. The soldiers behind him rushed to follow, protecting him. They advanced like an unstoppable force, actually leaving Marquis Suhai’s troops behind as they charged towards the Imperial Mausoleum.
Marquis Suhai smiled slightly and led his troops in pursuit.