Daxing had returned to an outward quiet. Though Prince Wu had been gone on his campaign and no good news had returned, for the common people, quiet was the finest thing there was.

Under the current circumstances of Daxing, what luxury could the people afford? They did not even dream of being well-fed and warm. All they asked for was to live on quietly and peacefully.

The court had distributed Yang Xuanji’s captured provisions according to plan, and that could sustain the people inside the city for a while longer.

Every day the people had to line up at designated distribution points throughout the city to receive their bowl of porridge. Hollow-cheeked and gaunt, those people lining up in silence looked like orderly walking corpses.

Everyone tried to speak as little as possible, since even talking was a waste of energy.

This was no dark joke. This was the reality of Daxing.

Of late, the Emperor had rarely gone among the common people, and rarely visited the barracks—because the Empress was very close to giving birth.

The whole palace had been set to work. Although life in the palace these days was hardly befitting a palace at all, the Emperor had said: the Empress must not want for a single mouthful of food.

The entire palace had been cutting back and tightening their belts, while doing their best to meet the most basic nutritional needs of a woman about to give birth.

Even those needs were modest—a few eggs each day, a bowl of somewhat thickened porridge with a few shreds of meat, and if possible, some small sweets and pastries.

But the Empress herself was in good spirits. Nervous, certainly—she did not know which day that small life would suddenly arrive, and perhaps she had not entirely prepared herself to welcome it yet—so there was nervousness, and there was excitement.

The imperial physicians were also in a state of tension. This was a matter of the utmost importance. The Emperor had made it clear: there must not be any accident. Not the slightest one.

Everything had long since been prepared. It seemed as though every person in the entire palace was waiting to welcome that small child.

Evening.

The Emperor walked slowly with the Empress through the palace grounds. The imperial physicians had said that walking in the days before birth would help with a smooth delivery. The Emperor had remembered this, and made time every day to accompany the Empress on her walk.

“Has Your Majesty still not decided on a name for the child?”

The Empress asked.

The words carried the gentlest of reproaches without being a reproach at all, and a tone of complaint that was not quite complaint.

The Emperor smiled slightly. “I have thought of countless names—but each time I think of one, I feel the next one might be better. So one by one they came to mind, and one by one they were dismissed, until somehow it has come to this.”

The Empress said, “I have thought of two as well. Would Your Majesty like to hear them?”

The Emperor said, “Go ahead.”

The Empress smiled gently and said, “I looked through the clan registry. Children of Your Majesty’s line may use the character ‘Ding.’ I thought—if it is a boy, he could be called Yang Ding’an. If it is a girl, Yang Changping.”

The Emperor smiled. “The girl’s name is not particularly graceful… but as long as you thought of it, it must be the most fitting one there is.”

The Empress gave a delighted little laugh, with a touch of pleased pride.

She had known all along—the Emperor would always yield to her.

Though by the rules of the Great Chu imperial house, the name of an imperial prince could absolutely not be chosen by any woman of the inner palace—not even the Empress.

“Ah…”

The Empress suddenly let out a soft cry. The Emperor asked at once, “What is it? Does it hurt again?”

The Empress said, “It hurts rather more than before. The physicians said that if the pain comes in waves repeatedly, it might mean the time has come. Your Majesty, let us go back quickly…”

The Emperor called out urgently, “Carry the Empress back—carefully! Be steady!”

Within moments, the palace was a flurry of activity as imperial physicians and midwives rushed to arrive with all speed.

The Emperor ordered that more than half the palace guards be summoned and positioned outside the Empress’s chambers with strict orders that no unauthorized person was to approach.

The Emperor, who had remained composed even when facing Daxing’s gravest crises, was now pacing back and forth wringing his hands, with no idea what to do with himself.

Just then, in a military barracks within the city.

A portion of the Heavenly Mandate Army that had been assigned to Daxing was stationed there. The commanding general of this garrison was named Bai Choumian.

At that very moment, in the rear of this unit’s camp, Bai Choumian had gathered all his men together.

“We have just received word that the imperial guards have been mobilized and palace security has been tightened—so I expect the Empress is going into labor.”

Bai Choumian looked at the men before him. “The Heavenly Mandate King treated us with great generosity. We serve here under other banners only to avenge the Heavenly Mandate King. And you all know—with a man of the Emperor’s cunning, even if he does not move against us today, sooner or later he will kill us all the same. He needs soldiers, not commanders. You all see that clearly.”

“Just look at what happened to the Yue Province Army—you know what the Emperor is capable of. How ruthless, how vicious. He cannot trust us. He trusts only Prince Wu’s people.”

Bai Choumian continued, “Our men are stationed in various parts of the city totaling more than sixty thousand. In the time since, I have not rested a single day—secretly making contact with brothers in the other garrisons. I have been waiting for this day.”

He turned and said, “Bring the map up.”

An aide hung the map on the wall. Bai Choumian strode to the front, raised his hand, and pointed to one spot on it.

“For months I have been gathering information. This here is our point of attack. This is the Crown Prince’s Eastern Palace—connected to the Palace of Shiyuan, with a gate between them.”

Bai Choumian said, “The imperial guards have been repositioned entirely to the rear palace. The palace attendants as well. Even the minor gates used for waste removal will certainly be heavily guarded and closely inspected. But the Crown Prince’s Eastern Palace—there is virtually no one keeping watch over it. It has been nearly abandoned.”

“I have already sent word to the brothers in the other garrisons. Tonight we strike suddenly—into the Eastern Palace, then through the gate into the Palace of Shiyuan, and we kill that dog Emperor and his newborn child to avenge the Heavenly Mandate King.”

One of the generals, named Pei Lingzhi, spoke with some concern. “But the gate from the Eastern Palace connecting to the Palace of Shiyuan—I have heard it was sealed long ago, with a thousand-jin slab brought down, and the mechanism to raise it is on the Palace of Shiyuan side. It cannot be opened from the Eastern Palace.”

Bai Choumian said with certainty, “It can be opened.”

Pei Lingzhi asked, “Is the rumor incorrect, then? Is there a mechanism on the Eastern Palace side as well to raise the thousand-jin slab?”

Bai Choumian said, “There is not—but it can still be opened.”

Everyone stared at him, thinking: General Bai’s words are contradicting themselves.

Bai Choumian turned around and bowed deeply. “We invite the Golden-Armored War God!”

The tent flap was pulled open and Tiger Fool stepped in from outside. He wore no golden armor now, but the moment he appeared before everyone, it was as if a mountain had suddenly appeared in their midst.

Before him, all others seemed small.

Tiger Fool had several scars on his face that still looked vivid and alarming, left behind from that day Prince Wu had sprung his ambush.

On the back of his head, there was still a thumb-sized patch where no hair had grown back in.

That was the spot where Prince Wu’s arrow had struck.

In the end, the arrow had pierced through his iron helmet—only because the helmet was so thick that only the tip of the arrowhead had broken through.

Tiger Fool was not foolish. Everyone said he was—but those people were simply jealous of him.

He had worried the arrow might be poisoned. After removing it, he had used a knife to carve out a piece of his own flesh and skin. Which was why no new hair had grown there to this day.

“I will lift the thousand-jin slab.”

Tiger Fool said in his deep, rumbling voice. “Walls you cannot pass, I will tear down. Gates you cannot break, I will break open. Enemy formations you cannot cut through, I will cut through for you. But if any of you are cowards who shrink back from avenging Uncle—I will tear you apart right now.”

Bai Choumian said, “General, there is no need to doubt these men. We know just as well as anyone that if the Emperor is not killed, we are all dead regardless. So in this battle, every brother will fight with everything they have.”

Tiger Fool said, “The Emperor I want to kill. The Empress and child I want to kill too. I want nothing else. If this battle is won, consider it a debt I owe you. If you want me to fight wars for you afterward, I am alive, and I will go on killing for you as long as I live.”

The words made Pei Lingzhi and the others feel a chill in their hearts—but inexplicably, they also felt a surge of confidence.

There was no Left Valiant Guard, Dachu’s finest, in the city now. That was the foundation of their nerve.

Prince Wu’s great army had been gone on campaign for two months already, and was some vast distance away—no need to worry that the old man would suddenly appear.

The only forces in the city truly loyal to the Emperor were those imperial guards—and they numbered no more than fifteen thousand.

The new army the Emperor had built—by the time they reacted, the Eastern Palace should already have been stormed.

Bai Choumian had his private ambitions, of course. Everything about this affair—all the quiet scheming and covert coordinating—had been his doing from start to finish.

So if the Emperor were killed, this Daxing would naturally be his to claim.

Who doesn’t want to be Emperor?

What man, in such circumstances, could suppress fantasies about the imperial throne? Who could resist that temptation?

He had originally been nobody much—only a third-rank general under the Heavenly Mandate King Yang Xuanji.

Compared to those who had been truly important before—men like Du Ke, like Pei Qi—he was far behind in standing.

But could Pei Qi and those men have an opportunity like this one?

Kill the Chu Emperor, seize Daxing—even if he sat on the throne for only a few months, it would be glorious.

Bai Choumian said, “General, rest assured. In this battle, we will certainly kill the Emperor. And our brothers will support the General as our lord—support him as Emperor.”

Tiger Fool frowned, looking vaguely baffled. “I don’t want to be any Emperor. Everyone who wanted to be Emperor is dead…”

Those words did not sit well with Bai Choumian.

Tiger Fool said, “Whoever among you wants it can have it. I’ll help you—that’s all.”

Bai Choumian said, “Then we’ll discuss that later. Let’s focus on avenging our Lord first. I plan to move at the midnight hour tonight—that is when the imperial guards change their watch, and they will be briefly less alert.”

He looked at Tiger Fool. “General—the thousand-jin slab in the Eastern Palace. It is up to you.”

Tiger Fool gave a single nod. “I’ll go sleep. Wake me when the time comes. If I cannot lift the slab, you may kill me. If I open it and you all turn tail and retreat, I will kill you.”

Having said this, he turned and walked out.

Once he had gone, Bai Choumian smiled and said, “With a peerless fool like this working for us, what do we have to fear?”

The others laughed as well.

When the Heavenly Mandate King had been alive, they would naturally not have dared speak ill of Tiger Fool—not even in private. No one could guarantee that today’s words would not be reported by tomorrow.

The Heavenly Mandate King had protected Tiger Fool the way a mother protects her calf. Over the years, the number of people Yang Xuanji had killed on account of Tiger Fool was impossible to count.

But now Yang Xuanji had been dead for so long. Tiger Fool was nothing—merely someone to be used.

A brute. A simpleton. A fool. All they needed from him was to charge forward. As for everything else—

Bai Choumian smiled. “This battle will make quite a name for the man. Only—if this battle succeeds, we cannot afford to keep him alive afterward…”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

The palace.

The Empress had been in pain for so long now—from white day into black night—and still had not given birth. The Emperor’s eyes had gone red.

The imperial physician had already come with word, asking His Majesty to prepare himself: there was a possibility… a possibility of a difficult birth.

The Emperor erupted in fury and called for that imperial physician’s head—only to be held back by Huichunqiu, the commander of the palace guards, and the chief eunuch Zhen Xiaodao. They just barely kept him from truly ordering the man’s execution.

“Your Majesty, the Empress enjoys the blessings of heaven—nothing will go wrong.”

Zhen Xiaodao kept urging him on, his own voice already hoarse with worry.

The Emperor turned to look at Huichunqiu. “My heart is uneasy. Go and summon Zhang He.”

Zhang He was one of Prince Wu’s most formidable generals, spoken of as the second spear in the army—second only to Prince Wu himself. When Prince Wu led his army out on campaign, he had left Zhang He behind for the Emperor. The Emperor had then appointed Zhang He as a commander of the imperial guards.

Before long, Zhang He came hurrying to present himself. The Emperor gave him his orders. “You are not to sleep tonight. Ensure that half the imperial guards are on duty at all times, and the other half rests with their armor on. You are to conduct inspections personally.”

Zhang He bowed his head. “This subject obeys!”

He took his orders and rushed back to the imperial guard, instructing his subordinate commanders to divide their units and patrol in turns. Every gate—wherever there was a gate—was to have troops stationed to guard it.