The long night slowly flowed to its end, and the tug-of-war within Bianjing City seemed to have determined a victor.
Even the Imperial Guards, symbols of imperial authority, had already ceased their resistance. Everyone vaguely sensed in their hearts that Zhao Xun’s drama of forcing his father to abdicate was about to conclude victoriously.
In the wars of power, there has always been the saying: “The victor becomes king, the defeated becomes bandit.” History books are the biographies of kings. Tonight’s palace coup, which at present was condemned by all, would become nothing more than a few passing clouds lightly described once tomorrow’s sun rose again and a different face sat upon the throne.
The court officials who supported Zhao Xun were already celebrating joyfully in their hearts. Those who had originally upheld orthodoxy also began to waver, contemplating whether they should abandon darkness for light and turn toward what now seemed the destined victor.
After all, for most people, spilling blood and sacrificing lives for orthodoxy in exchange for a reputation that might not even be recorded in the history books was not as practical as having a wife, children, a warm bed, and the daily necessities of firewood, rice, oil, salt, sauce, vinegar, and tea.
The court officials waited with various thoughts in their hearts for dawn’s arrival, but in the darkest moment before dawn, they saw a flame break through the gates of Bianjing City that had been sealed for so long.
The bearer of that torch sat high upon a horse, a pair of eyes beneath willow-leaf brows radiating a pressing coldness.
She had donned armor she hadn’t touched in twenty-nine years, raised her hand high, and made a gesture toward the city gate.
A soldier shouted out her command: “Grand Princess Zhengguo, by imperial decree, is capturing the rebels! All personnel—those who surrender their weapons on the spot will be treated leniently; violators will be killed without exception!”
The entire city of Bianjing boiled and trembled in an instant—for this sudden reversal, and for this heroine who had remained silent for twenty-nine years.
All the court officials who had already stepped one foot into Zhao Xun’s faction quickly assessed the situation and stepped back.
This momentum of universal response—aside from Zhao Meilan, who in people’s hearts could be called Daqi’s second heaven—no one else could achieve.
Not even Zhao Xi.
Leading only three thousand cavalry, Zhao Meilan crushed all the rebel forces within Bianjing City in just one hour. Before the title “Grand Princess Zhengguo” and these three thousand elite troops who appeared out of nowhere and could each match ten men, the rebel army lost their confidence—the dead died, the surrendered surrendered.
The cavalry charged all the way unstoppably into the imperial palace.
Zhao Xun had no choice but to hold a sword to the Emperor’s throat. Together with the last few hundred soldiers by his side, he stood inside Chongzheng Hall, confronting Zhao Meilan before the hall’s entrance.
The Emperor’s robes and crown were disheveled, his eyes bloodshot. Looking at Zhao Meilan who had come to rescue him, he had no time to think about where she had obtained these soldiers, only grasping at her like a last straw as he shouted: “Meilan, Meilan… kill him, kill this rebellious son of mine!”
Zhao Meilan nodded lightly: “This subject-sister respectfully obeys the imperial decree.”
As her words fell, an archer who had long been lying in ambush on higher ground, with contemptuous and overwhelming posture, swiftly and accurately shot an arrow through Zhao Xun’s throat.
The Emperor was saved. Even though he had once campaigned on battlefields, at this critical juncture he broke out in a cold sweat all over his back, staggering as he supported himself against a palace pillar.
The soldiers beside Zhao Xun, seeing the unfavorable turn of events, immediately fled.
Zhao Meilan turned her horse around and led her troops in victorious pursuit.
In the vast Chongzheng Hall, only the Emperor remained in an instant.
Having escaped death, the Emperor finally came to his senses and at this moment sensed something was wrong. Zhao Meilan had clearly come to rescue him—why had she now withdrawn all her troops, leaving him alone here?
He slowly straightened his posture, looking toward Zhao Xun in the pool of blood, at the arrow-through-throat wound on his neck.
A heavy arrow, from a distance, with this accuracy—this was definitely not something an ordinary archer could accomplish.
The Emperor seemed to realize something and suddenly turned his head. That man in black armor, holding bow and arrow, stood tall and jade-like. In the first ray of dawn’s morning light, he walked toward him step by step with a smile: “This subject arrives late to rescue Your Majesty. Please forgive this offense.”
It was none other than Huo Liuxing.
The Emperor glared at his perfectly functional legs: “You… you…”
Huo Liuxing paused in his steps, looked down at his own legs: “Oh, Your Majesty has long resided in the deep palace. Perhaps your information is delayed. This subject’s legs were already healed nine years ago.” With that, he continued walking toward him.
The Emperor looked at him incredulously: “Huo Liuxing, Huo Liuxing… stop right there!”
Huo Liuxing’s steps pressed forward relentlessly, his face still smiling warmly: “However, Your Majesty’s information seems to be delayed not only on this matter. Your Majesty perhaps does not yet know that your good imperial grandson is at this moment, like your good son, also lying in a pool of blood.”
“You… you did something to Xi’er…”
“It was not this subject’s doing.” Huo Liuxing tossed aside his bow and arrow, spreading his hands somewhat innocently. “This subject is here and cannot be in two places at once, so I entrusted the young prince to this subject’s cousin. Qufei will properly send the young prince on his way. Your Majesty, please be at ease.”
The Emperor pointed at him with a trembling finger, his whole body shaking. The most despairing thing in this world is not facing a death trap, but after escaping death, discovering that the so-called “path to life” is merely another darker road to death.
“After today, this dynasty will change its surname to Meng again. This subject offers Your Majesty this dramatic and stirring performance. I wonder if Your Majesty is satisfied?”
Huo Liuxing paced to Zhao Xun’s corpse and picked up his sword. Without waiting for the Emperor’s answer, he continued smiling: “Your Majesty has sat on the throne for twenty-nine years and should be tired of sitting. Let this subject complete this unfinished task on behalf of the Fourth Prince and send Your Majesty on his way.”
Hand raised, sword fell—blood splattered three feet.
The Emperor, whose eyes remained wide open in death unable to close, heard as the last words of his life: “How could the Fourth Prince strike Your Majesty with such a vicious hand? This subject arrives late to rescue Your Majesty. Please forgive this offense…”
——
At the same moment, in a tent at the military camp in the capital’s outskirts, Jingmo stood before Meng Qufei, reporting to him the situation inside the palace.
After listening, Meng Qufei asked with a critical expression: “Did he perform the role properly?”
Jingmo nodded: “You can rest assured about the young master’s acting skills. The young master will definitely tell His Majesty at the last moment that tomorrow this dynasty will bear the surname Meng.”
Meng Qufei half-satisfied, half-reluctantly clicked his tongue: “Fine then, I’ll consider this my successful restoration.”
Jingmo glanced from the corner of his eye toward the tent entrance, in the direction of Zhao Xi’s tent: “The reason the young master went alone into the palace and left the young prince by your side was precisely because he hoped you would carefully consider one last time—right now is the best and final opportunity for you to act. Once you let the young prince return to the imperial palace and then regret it, the difficulty and sacrifice of restoration will be ten times or even a hundred times what it is now.”
Meng Qufei fell silent. After a long while, he suddenly said out of nowhere: “Jingmo, do you know why my cousin and I are called ‘Liuxing’ and ‘Qufei’?”
Jingmo was momentarily stunned and shook his head.
Liuxing meant “causing not to leave” and “stopping forward progress,” while Qufei was taken from “this departure is not a long road.” Their mothers had given birth to them on the same night during wartime chaos, yet from the very beginning had never placed upon them the heavy expectations of killing gods and buddhas who stood in their way.
Meng Qufei said: “I think my mother would not blame me for today’s decision, and my father…” He smiled. “Last night when I heard that Hexi was in crisis, I knew that back then, when the Huo Family Army withdrew from the capital to resist foreign enemies, abandoning the Meng imperial family, my father must have felt just like me—although unwilling in his heart, he quietly breathed a sigh of relief.”
“The Xiqiang are employing the same tactics as twenty-nine years ago, taking advantage of our dynasty’s internal chaos to invade Hexi. If I were to battle Zhao Xi to the finish at this critical juncture, even if I won, I wouldn’t be confident of stabilizing the nation quickly. In the end, it would only let foreign powers exploit the opening and allow the common people of Hexi to once again become slaves to the Xiqiang.” Meng Qufei shook his head. “I cannot become such an eternal sinner and bring shame to the Meng family.”
As Meng Qufei spoke these explanations that were unnecessary to tell his subordinate, it seemed like unnecessary verbosity, but in truth Jingmo knew he was using this method to persuade himself to be firm in his current choice.
Jingmo nodded: “Since you’ve thought it through, the young master will surely support your decision. However, how will you account for this to the other court officials? Do you have a plan?”
He was referring to the former dynasty’s old officials who had worked so painstakingly for so many years, hoping for the Meng family’s restoration.
Meng Qufei nodded: “Temporarily delay for a while. Tell them that something went wrong on my end and I lost the best opportunity to strike. I can only take the ’roundabout route to save the nation’—use the pretext of defending the border to request battle with the young prince to go to Hexi. When the time is ripe, I’ll kill my way back from Hexi with the Huo Family Army’s military strength.”
“Yes.”
Having finished his instructions, Meng Qufei sat silently for a while longer, then braced his knees and rose, walking toward Zhao Xi’s tent.
Zhao Xi had sat quietly in his tent all night. At some point he had walked out from inside and now stood with hands behind his back before the tent entrance, as if waiting for Meng Qufei.
On the way, Meng Qufei casually plucked a stalk of straw and stuck it in his mouth. Walking before him, he said: “Congratulations, Young Prince. General Huo has succeeded. You can set out to return to the palace.”
Zhao Xi gazed at him quietly, as if seeing from his casual posture many things hidden within.
After a long while, he said: “Then what about Young Master Meng? Where will you go?”
Meng Qufei twisted his neck, loosening his muscles: “Me? I’ve stayed in Bianjing for so many years that I’m truly sick of it. I want to go to Hexi to help the young prince fight the war. I wonder if the young prince will agree.”
The look in Zhao Xi’s eyes held several layers of complex emotion. After a moment of silence he said: “Young Master Meng’s heart is with the common people. On behalf of the people of Hexi, I thank you.”
Meng Qufei scratched his head: “You’re welcome, you’re welcome.” With that, he cupped his hands. “Since the young prince doesn’t object, there’s no time to waste. I’ll set out now. Shortly, General Huo’s people will escort the young prince back to the palace. Take care.”
Having said this, he turned to leave. After a few steps, he was stopped by a call of “Young Master Meng.”
Meng Qufei turned his head and saw Zhao Xi standing in the morning light, his tender face bearing the resolute expression of a mature man: “I will definitely work hard to be a good emperor.”
Meng Qufei smiled: “I believe in the young prince.” With that, he waved at him against the morning sun and walked away without lingering.