The Eastern Capital fell from the south gate.
After Li Xuandu departed, Han Rongchang continued to wait patiently. Sure enough, a few days later, deep in the night, the garrison troops guarding the east, west, and north gates inside the Eastern Capital rose in simultaneous disorder. They surged toward the south gate, killed Liu Guojiu’s trusted men standing guard there, then threw open the gates and poured out of the city in a flood—some going to surrender to the imperial forces, others fleeing under cover of the chaos. Chen Zhude went into hiding. Liu Guojiu fled with Prince Chu’s grandson, only to be killed by rampaging soldiers who had burst into the palace. The palace was looted and then burned to the ground.
The fire burned for several days until a great rain finally extinguished it entirely. What had once been a palace of glazed tiles was left as a field of broken shards and crumbling walls. The Eastern Capital rebellion, which had dragged on for over a year, was at last completely brought to an end. Han Rongchang led his troops into the city and took control of the Eastern Capital.
Marquis Yao and the cluster of trusted associates who had gathered around him in recent years learned the news at the earliest possible moment through spies posted outside. Under cover of night they quietly slipped into the Yao Mansion one by one. Black cloth was pulled tight over all the doors and windows, and they met secretly inside to deliberate.
The rebel forces were spent—their destruction was inevitable, sooner or later. This consensus had formed among them a month or two prior, and no one doubted it anymore. Even in the streets and lanes, the talk that had begun with worry about the rebels attacking had long since shifted to waiting for when the rebellion would end. Receiving this news today was merely a confirmed prediction come true. Far from any excitement, Marquis Yao felt deeply uneasy in his heart.
The rebellion was over. Li Chengyu was dead. The Prince Chu’s grandson on that side had also been killed—rumor had it that the rebel soldiers had even taken his head to claim a reward.
A realm cannot be without a sovereign. Once the news was formally relayed back to the capital, the next great matter for the court, without question, would be to enthrone a new ruler to pacify the realm.
Who could be the new ruler?
Naturally, the son of the dragon nestled in the current Empress Yao’s womb.
The Empress was great with child. In a few more months she would give birth. If she produced a son of the dragon, his inheriting the imperial throne was only natural.
Yet Marquis Yao remained fraught with worry.
He was not worried about whether the Empress might fail to produce a son when the time came. What he feared was the threat posed by Prince of Qin Li Xuandu.
Given Li Xuandu’s status and his current prestige, the voices within the court calling to welcome him back to the capital and enthrone him had been growing louder by the day. On top of that, there was the news from earlier—during the He Xi upheaval, even Jiang Yi had emerged from retirement and thrown his lot in with Li Xuandu.
And who was Jiang Yi? The leading figure of the Jiang clan at the height of its glory. After the Jiang family withdrew from public life, though their influence had faded from the court over the years, once he stepped forward again, a single call from him would draw a hundred responses—the old forces would not dare disobey. The news of how he had taken Jing Pass without a battle had reached the capital and thrown Marquis Yao into alarm and dread.
Even more fearsome was the fact that within the court, this faction now had a figurehead.
That person was Prince Duan.
Since the Eastern Capital rebellion began and the court fell into turmoil, things had been in constant upheaval. Guo Lang, citing his advanced age and poor health, had gradually stepped back from the center of power and largely stopped managing affairs. Correspondingly, Prince Duan—given his distinguished status—had been put forward by a faction of officials at odds with Marquis Yao to participate in deliberating court policy. Prince Duan himself had also, quite out of character, thrown himself actively into state affairs, and by now his prestige, whether among the imperial clan or among the hundreds of officials, was steadily rising.
Marquis Yao feared that Prince Duan would become the greatest obstacle to the Empress’s unborn son taking the throne. And now, with the fall of the Eastern Capital, matters had become even more urgent.
He had already been making quiet preparations for some time.
Li Xuandu being away from the capital was a golden opportunity bestowed by heaven. Tonight he had summoned his trusted associates because he intended to move immediately—before the other side had a chance to react.
The Yao family’s secret meeting began at the third watch and lasted nearly to the fifth. After half a night of tense deliberation, they settled on a concrete plan of action. It boiled down to three points. First, continue to draw Guo Lang over and bring him to stand with their side. Second, swiftly launch a military coup—seize Prince Duan and his allies and prevent them from deliberating policy. Third, after taking control of the capital, convene the hundred officials to formally designate the heir to the throne, then reward Li Xuandu and Jiang Yi generously for their meritorious service in suppressing the rebellion.
As long as Prince Duan’s faction was firmly kept in check—and they acted first, in the name of the court, to establish a legitimate heir to the throne before he could champion Li Xuandu’s cause—then if Li Xuandu still wanted to come back and contend for the throne, on both moral grounds and in the court of public opinion, he would have already lost before he began.
Unless he had no fear of being branded a traitor and openly defied the court by raising troops to attack the capital.
But even Shen Yang, when he had wanted to usurp the throne, had first needed to prop up a puppet emperor.
Now that the court had established a legitimate successor—and had lavishly rewarded both him and Jiang Yi—if he continued to make trouble, the realm longing for peace would see him as the archetypal ingrate, the enemy of all under heaven.
Jiang Yi bore the full weight of the Jiang clan’s name and reputation. He should not openly defy the court.
And Li Xuandu—who had borne a taint on his name since youth—if he refused to restrain himself, the sheer weight of condemnation alone would be enough to drown him.
As long as their side could first weather this immediate crisis, once power was consolidated, the rest could be quietly addressed at leisure.
After arriving at the decision to act tonight at the third watch, Marquis Yao and his associates went through the plan once more, leaving no gaps, making certain a single strike would find its mark.
The sky began to lighten faintly. He ordered the black cloth pulled from the doors and windows.
Though he had been in tense deliberation for half the night, with a reddish tinge of blood in his eyes by now, he felt his spirits unusually keyed up as he looked at the morning light filtering in through the window—not the slightest bit of fatigue.
His associates took advantage of the early hour and slipped out one by one through the back gate of the Yao Mansion. After everyone had dispersed, Marquis Yao rested briefly for a little while. When he judged the hour about right, he changed into his court robes and rode his carriage to the palace as usual to preside over today’s court deliberation.
These court deliberations had been held once every other day since the Emperor had left the capital. The venue was Changqing Palace—they did not dare use the main hall and had set up in a side hall instead.
He entered the side hall. As usual, all the officials were already in their places. Seeing him arrive, they came forward in a stream to exchange greetings.
Of the three principal seats at the front of the hall, Guo Lang’s remained empty as before; Prince Duan had already arrived and was seated among them.
Marquis Yao went forward as usual, bowing to Prince Duan in greeting.
Prince Duan rose to return the courtesy. Marquis Yao took his seat; the officials also returned to their respective positions. After a moment of settling, the routine matters of deliberation began.
Marquis Yao took his seat and turned his mind to the night’s plans. He intended to pay a personal visit to the Guo family before tonight’s action—it was essential to make absolutely certain the old man Guo Lang was firmly bound to his side. He had no heart for the deliberations, dealt with them perfunctorily, and when they concluded, rose and was just about to leave when he suddenly heard Prince Duan say: “Marquis Yao, please remain. This prince still has a matter to discuss with Marquis Yao and the gentlemen of the court.”
The officials’ expressions grew grave. They stopped at once and looked over.
Marquis Yao hesitated a moment, then slowly sat back down.
Prince Duan looked around at everyone: “Gentlemen, there is no need for alarm—this is good news. This prince received word yesterday: the Eastern Capital has fallen. From the rebel leaders down to the last of their followers, all have been annihilated. Marquis Han is now taking charge of the Eastern Capital and restoring order.”
The court had been beset by one upheaval after another over the past year or two; officials had grown jumpy and wary. When Prince Duan had suddenly announced he had something to say, some had been concerned. But hearing it was this long-awaited good news, everyone immediately breathed easier and broke into smiles, leaning toward their neighbors and murmuring among themselves.
Prince Duan raised his hand to quiet the room. His expression then turned solemn. He turned to face the direction of the Imperial Ancestral Temple and knelt, bowing in formal reverence. When he rose, he said: “The present state of the court, gentlemen are surely aware: the throne has stood vacant for too long. Yet the masses of the realm cannot be without a sovereign, and they await a new ruler. This prince, as a member of the imperial clan, has moreover been put forward to deliberate on court policy—the question of a new ruler has long weighed on his mind. There is no better time than the present: this prince wishes today to hear the views of the assembled ministers on who may serve as master of the realm.”
When his voice fell, the hall first went completely silent. Everyone looked at one another, and for a moment no one spoke. But very soon the whispering began—murmuring voices rising and falling in waves.
Marquis Yao’s heart suddenly hammered.
He had never imagined that Prince Duan would move faster than he did.
Without waiting for tonight’s action, Prince Duan had seized the opportunity of this morning to push the matter out into the open.
Suppressing the panic and foreboding that surged in him as events suddenly spun out of control, he immediately looked toward one of his own officials standing near the hall entrance, exchanged a covert glance, and indicated with a gesture that the man should go at once and fetch Guo Lang to come and hold the field.
The man understood. He gave a slight nod, then took advantage of a moment when those around him were not watching and quietly slipped out the hall door.
Prince Duan took in this scene, pretended not to notice, and continued to wait. After a moment, seeing that no one had yet spoken—and that Marquis Yao had simply closed his eyes as though meditating—he stood up once more.
The moment he rose, the hall fell quiet again.
Prince Duan said: “Since the gentlemen will not speak, this prince will put forward a suitable person. He is the fourth son of the Mingzong Emperor, the imperial uncle of the late Emperor—the Prince of Qin. The Prince of Qin is accomplished in both civil and military affairs. He opened the Western Regions, pacified the border wars, and in the suppression of the Eastern Capital rebellion he has rendered distinguished and arduous merit. As for legitimate succession and meritorious achievement, this prince believes that no one in the current court can compare. The Prince of Qin’s ascension to the throne is in accordance with heaven’s will and the people’s hearts. If he continues the achievements of his ancestors, it will be not only the blessing of the imperial clan but the blessing of all subjects under heaven!”
When his voice fell, more than half the officials in the hall voiced their agreement and began expressing their support.
Marquis Yao still sat with eyes closed, motionless, as though in deep meditation.
At this moment, a voice suddenly rang out: “That is not right! Selecting a person requires selecting talent—that is the way to bring order to the world. How much more so when establishing the ruler of a kingdom! A ruler must first have virtue. Without virtue, how can one command the realm? The Prince of Qin may well have rendered great and arduous merit today, but let the gentlemen not forget the Xuanning Thirty-Nine Affair. In that year, he followed the Liang Crown Prince in besieging the palace and rebelling—his crime was personally pronounced by the Mingzong Emperor! Though he was later pardoned and declared innocent, the act he committed—how can it simply be ignored? This humble official dares to speak plainly: the Prince of Qin is not suited to the position of sovereign!”
Prince Duan looked over. The speaker was an Erudite of the Imperial Household—a Guanglu Dafu. He asked: “In your view, who should be sovereign?”
That man said: “The answer is not far away—it is right here before us: it is the son of the dragon now carried in the womb of our current Empress! The late Emperor personally led the imperial forces and sacrificed himself for the nation. The Empress carries his posthumous child—a dragon bloodline. Why may this child not inherit the great succession?”
When he finished, a cluster of men immediately chorused loud agreement. As they spoke, they wept—their expressions agitated. Imitating Prince Duan, they knelt and kowtowed in the direction of the Imperial Ancestral Temple, their foreheads striking the floor with resounding thumps. For a moment the side hall was in an uproar.
Prince Duan watched quietly for a moment, then turned to Marquis Yao, who was still sitting with eyes closed as if resting, and asked: “Does Marquis Yao have any view to offer?”
Marquis Yao finally opened his eyes. He rose and first knelt respectfully toward the Imperial Ancestral Temple, kowtowing with great ceremony. When the rites were complete and he had risen, he said slowly: “If what the Empress carries in her womb is indeed the flesh and blood of the late Emperor—a son of the dragon—and when her ten months are complete and the son of the dragon is born, this prince would ask: where is the son of the dragon then to be placed?”
The hall fell quiet again.
Prince Duan said: “Marquis Yao, are you certain that what the Empress carries is a son?”
Marquis Yao said: “This minister would not presume to be certain. But in a few more months all will be clear—why should we be in such haste? Moreover, Grand Tutor Guo is a man of great virtue and high renown who has assisted four successive emperors. On this matter, I believe we should still hear the Grand Tutor’s view.”
Prince Duan said: “This prince had exactly the same thought. The Grand Tutor should have arrived by now.”
He raised his head and looked outside, then smiled: “The Grand Tutor has arrived!”
Marquis Yao was taken aback. He turned his head—and saw Guo Lang, who had not shown his face for many days, appear in truth at the hall entrance.
He immediately sensed something was wrong.
Though his own man had gone to fetch Guo Lang, no matter how fast he moved, he could not possibly have brought him here so quickly.
That Guo Lang appeared here so swiftly meant only one thing.
He had in fact already come long ago—and had simply not shown himself until now.
Guo Lang entered. Everyone rushed forward to pay their respects; he responded to each in turn. He notably did not once glance in Marquis Yao’s direction. Marquis Yao could no longer hold his composure—cold sweat broke out on his palms. A moment later, he watched Guo Lang finish exchanging nods and greetings with the others and at last take his seat. Guo Lang then looked toward him—his expression grave—and asked unexpectedly: “Marquis Yao, the matter of the Empress carrying a member of the imperial bloodline—can this be confirmed as true?”
Marquis Yao’s heart dropped with a sudden heavy thud. He felt a chill to his bones. Steadying himself, he managed a stiff smile: “What does the Grand Tutor mean by this? This minister does not understand.”
Guo Lang said: “This old man has heard of a certain matter and finds himself quite unable to make sense of it. Today I could only come here to seek clarification.” Then, turning toward the entrance, he called out: “Bring the person in!”
Everyone looked toward the hall entrance. Two palace attendants led in a woman. Some recognized her—she was Sun Pin, a consort of the late Emperor’s inner palace.
This Sun Pin had followed the late Emperor for many years. Her father, Sun Ji, had formerly served as the late Emperor’s attendant in the Eastern Palace when he was still Crown Prince. At that time she had held the rank of Liangdi. She was later promoted to the rank of Pin.
Half a year ago, after the news arrived that the late Emperor had personally led the campaign, been taken prisoner, and subsequently died an unfortunate death, Sun Pin and several other consorts had all been sent to the Anle Palace to live out their days in retirement. Not long after, a fire had accidentally broken out in the Anle Palace; it was said several people had burned to death, among them this Sun Pin. No one had expected that today she would appear here, very much alive—and the assembled officials could not help but be astonished.
Marquis Yao was thoroughly shaken.
Sun Pin walked forward with bowed head, knelt before the hall, and with tears streaming down her face said: “There are doubts about the Empress’s pregnancy. At the time, she must have feared the news would leak out and had all of us sisters confined to the Anle Palace, where she staged a banquet under false pretenses to gather us all together and set the place on fire to kill us. All my sisters perished in the flames. Fortunately, my father had taken precautions early on—he had bribed someone in the palace, and at that time had me smuggled out and hidden away. It was only by this stroke of luck that I survived to today…”
Before she could finish, Marquis Yao suddenly erupted in fury. Unable to maintain his composure any longer, he pointed at Sun Pin and lashed out in a thunderous voice: “Outrageous fabrications! How dare you slander the current Empress in such a manner! This cannot be tolerated! Come—seize her!”
A military officer came running, drew the sword from the waist of a hall guard, and lunged toward Sun Pin with it.
Prince Duan would not allow Marquis Yao’s man to succeed. A trusted aide of his own had already drawn his sword and stepped forward, blocking the attack.
Prince Duan asked: “Don’t be afraid—just tell the truth. On what grounds do you say there are doubts about the Empress’s pregnancy?”
Sun Pin wept: “Ever since the late Emperor’s autumn hunt the year before last, he never once summoned any of us from the inner palace. How could the Empress have a pregnancy? Either the pregnancy is false—or she is carrying someone else’s bastard!”
When she finished speaking, tears flooded her face. She knelt and would not rise.