“In the seven hundred and seventy-third year of Bai Cang, on the ninth day of the fifth month, the Empress passed away. Officials wept bitterly outside the Purple Gold Gate, the people mourned in grief, and the entire nation went into mourning. On the sixteenth day of the fifth month, her coffin was carried from Taiqing Street, with carriages and horses stretching for dozens of li. The Prince of West Huai wore mourning clothes and followed the coffin to the imperial tomb at Nine Grace Mountain.”
In historical records, there were only a few brief lines about Empress Mu He Na Yun. Behind the seeming glory and favor, she didn’t even receive a posthumous title. The cause of death was also not mentioned, just the word “passed away,” which represented the once prosperous and magnificent Mu He clan’s true exit from the stage of history. Among the seven great families of the Council of Elders, only six remained. The vacancy left by the Mu He clan’s retreat immediately attracted the covetous gazes of other great families, and this covetousness became even more blatant after Mu He Na Yun’s death.
On the day of Empress Mu He’s funeral procession, Chu Qiao stood on the Bell and Drum Tower at the southwestern corner of the palace, watching the white silk banners fluttering across the sky, covering the empty expanse above. Everything seemed like a magnificent dream. Yan Xun stood by her side, his gaze calm, showing no emotion. However, when he turned to leave, Chu Qiao noticed that the railing he had been gripping showed the imprints of his five fingers.
How could one forget that the first iron cavalry to set foot on the Yan Bei Plateau belonged to the Mu He clan’s mighty army? And how could one forget the eyes of Yan Hongxiao by the Cold Water River, filled with humiliation, unwillingness, and hatred that refused to close even in death?
With the death of the last person in power from the Mu He clan, the blood feud between Yan Bei and the Mu He clan finally settled in blood.
On the way back to Yingge Court, Chu Qiao unexpectedly encountered the Seventh Prince, Zhao Che. The young prince wore a light cyan robe, with only his belt and cuff bands in moon white, which stood out against the mournful white that filled the entire palace.
Zhao Che’s expression was calm as he stood in a high round pavilion. The fine rain-like ox hair created a misty veil, making it difficult to see his features. Chu Qiao held a cyan umbrella, her head slightly tilted upward. The rain dampened her shoes and the hem of her skirt.
Zhao Che raised his head, gazing toward the western sky. Chu Qiao knew that there lay range upon range of undulating plateaus. Legend had it that the ancestors of Da Xia’s royal line had emerged from those mountains. They rode horses with whips raised, using blood and faith to carve out this vast territory, subjugating the chaotic Red River Plateau under one regime. After their deaths, their souls would return to their homeland, resting eternally in that crimson soil.
The underground imperial tomb of the Da Xia dynasty was also located beneath Nine Grace Mountain in the northwest. For generations, the common people passed down the tale that there was a huge temple on that mountain, with whale oil lamps flickering in the night, never extinguished for ten thousand years.
The fine rain flew sideways, hitting the oil paper umbrella. The young woman’s figure was half-hidden among the flowering trees, with only her white skirt hem quietly fluttering in midair.
To limit the Mu He clan’s power, the Seventh Prince Zhao Che had been given at birth to the daughter of the Grand Scholar of Wenhua Pavilion, Consort Yuan, to raise. As the only consort whom the Emperor of Da Xia had shown some favor in his lifetime, Consort Yuan held a special position in the inner palace. She had followed the Grand Scholar Yuan from Bian Tang, born in the southeastern water town. Though without an illustrious family background, she had deeply won the emperor’s favor, which had not diminished for seventeen years. However, on Zhao Che’s seventeenth birthday, Consort Yuan committed suicide by drowning herself in the lake in front of numerous palace maids and servants.
No one knew the reason for Consort Yuan’s death. Palace rumors suggested that Empress Mu He had poisoned her out of jealousy, forcing Consort Yuan to take her own life, but the emperor had not made any response to this. After Consort Yuan’s death, he continued to attend court as usual and handle state affairs, completely in keeping with the manner of a wise ruler. However, from then on, he never took in any other consort.
Zhao Che also grew increasingly distant from his birth mother because of his foster mother’s death. Finally, due to differences in political views, he ultimately fell out with his maternal clan, to the extent that when he was exiled to the border, not one person was willing to lend him a helping hand.
It was precisely for this reason that after the downfall of the Mu He clan, his younger brother the Prince of West Hua, and his sister Princess Chun both lost their influence and were implicated, while he alone remained unaffected, continuing to wield significant power and command troops.
Many times, what appears on the surface is not necessarily the truth. Chu Qiao turned away, no longer watching the lonely figure of the once-illustrious young prince gazing into the distance.
In this deep palace, everyone had their own sorrows, and everyone had their own cruelty. Her eyes had seen too much; she had long grown tired of seeing the decay beneath the splendor.
When she returned to Yingge Court, Yan Xun was drinking in the pavilion in the plum garden. In recent years, he had always been calm and rarely drank except on necessary occasions. Chu Qiao stood in the corridor, looking at the young man in his cyan robe, and suddenly felt a surge of bitterness in her chest. She suddenly recalled an afternoon many years ago when the youth had awakened from a nightmare, grabbing her hand and asking vulnerably: “A-Chu, when will I be able to drink without worry?”
Back then, they were too weak, lacking even the courage to drink alcohol without fear. But now, though they had gained that courage, they had also shouldered more responsibilities, weighing them down so that they could no longer raise their golden cups with ease.
Indeed, Yan Xun stopped after just two cups. Winter had passed, and the plum garden was gradually withering. The breeze blew, and the flowering trees swayed everywhere. The plum blossoms scattered, and the cyan-robed man with his ink-black hair flying closed his eyes and tilted his head back, his brows slightly furrowed, letting the white plum blossoms fall upon his face. The clear wind came, making his sleeves billow like bird wings.
Chu Qiao did not approach him; she simply stood quietly at a distance, watching the person who had been by her side for many years.
Some feelings cannot be understood by others, and some hatreds cannot be borne by others. Even though they were as close as could be, she could never bear that bone-deep hatred for him.
Perhaps all she could do was watch from afar and, when it rained, bring her umbrella to him.
The empire’s most noble woman had departed, leaving behind a massive stone that crashed into the seemingly calm lake’s surface.
To everyone’s surprise, Concubine Shu, who had been the most prominent in the inner palace, did not naturally take Mu He Na Yun’s place. After a brief moment of joy, countless suspicious arrows suddenly pointed at the Wei clan, and Concubine Shu became the prime suspect. Officials from the Bureau of Records, the Internal Affairs Department, and the Grand Temple Department entered Shu Yun Hall like a revolving lantern. Seven days of investigation yielded no results, yet it did not clear Concubine Shu of suspicion. With the deliberate indulgence of certain individuals, Concubine Shu’s status in the inner palace plummeted, and the Wei clan suffered collateral damage, facing verbal and written attacks from numerous scholars of the Censorate. The situation looked grim.
Meanwhile, Consort Xuan of Lanxuan Hall gained power out of nowhere, serving the emperor for three consecutive nights, and on the fourth day was elevated to Noble Consort, becoming the highest-ranking consort in the inner palace after Concubine Shu. She was also entrusted with the phoenix seal, fully in charge of arranging Empress Mu He’s funeral ceremony, clearly becoming the first lady of the inner palace.
Noble Consort Xuan was different from the former Consort Yuan, and also different from the fallen Mu He Na Yun. The favored woman named Lan Xuan had another dazzling surname. She came from an ancient clan that had been passed down for hundreds of years, with a powerful family backing. Her full name was Zhuge Lan Xuan.
The wind shifted, and the Zhuge clan’s power rose, instantly becoming one of the great clans on par with the Wei clan.
The emperor’s birthday was destined to be tumultuous. After Empress Mu He’s funeral, there were only three days until his birthday, and on the same day, the emperor would marry his most beloved daughter to the heir of Yan Bei, completing this nationally-attention marriage arrangement.
All arrows were instantly drawn to full tension. The air was filled with a sense of imminent confrontation. On the seventeenth day of the fifth month, a group of formidable cavalry shattered the tranquility of the imperial capital. The birthday envoys from the northwestern Batu Ha family arrived fashionably late. As soon as Old Batu’s youngest brother, Balei, entered the city, he burst into tears, throwing himself onto the statue of the imperial mother in Violet Plaza, crying with snot and tears. Subsequently, he received a summons from the Sacred Gold Palace—because of his loyalty to the emperor and country, the esteemed Emperor decided to receive him personally.
Balei’s return to court did not attract the attention of those with ulterior motives. In the eyes of the capital’s officials, an elder of the Council who was past his prime did not carry much special weight, especially after the downfall of the Mu He clan. The Batu Ha family, a barbaric clan pushed to the northwest, became even more dispensable. The Emperor’s meeting with Balei was nothing more than an attempt to win hearts and minds.
In the Imperial Study of the Sacred Gold Palace, the Emperor’s audience lasted a full hour, with guards at the door allowing no one to approach.
When Balei left the Sacred Gold Palace, it was already deep into the night. The wind reversed on Nine Wai Long Street, and the young General Balei laughed heartily at the sky. Passers-by secretly looked at this northwestern dignitary who was both crying and laughing with expressions as if they were watching a madman, silently furrowing their brows.
That very night, both Zhuge Yue and Wei Shuye, the young master of the Wei clan who had just returned to the capital, received letters marked with the northwestern eagle seal. Zhuge Mu Qing looked at it for a while, then set it aside and slowly shook his head, saying: “Tell the young master he is ill and cannot go out.”
Zhuge Yue frowned and stepped forward, asking: “Father, why?”
Zhuge Mu Qing said solemnly: “We have achieved our goal and should not create complications. Our family’s power is not yet secure, and Lan Xuan still needs time in the palace.”
“If we facilitate this matter, His Majesty will value us more.”
Zhuge Mu Qing slowly frowned and said gravely: “Yue, don’t you understand yet? Whether His Majesty values us depends not on what contributions we make to the country, but on what power the Zhuge clan possesses. General Meng has served the country for generations, yet to this day remains merely a general, without any fiefs or wealth. The noble families and imperial power are divided and balanced, irreconcilable—this is something I have told you many times.”
“But…”
“No more discussion on this matter. From today, we will close our doors to visitors. Let us wait for the result three days from now.”
Zhuge Yue’s words were forcibly cut off by Zhuge Mu Qing. What he wanted to say was, if that fool Balei could not succeed, and Yan Xun escaped alive from the capital to assume the throne in Yan Bei, what would happen to the capital? What would happen to Da Xia? What would happen to the entire world? They had released this fierce tiger for their interests—what kind of disaster and calamity would it brew?
He wanted to say that his father had grown old, his eyes only able to see the gains and losses of a single family, unable to see the greater trend of the world. If the country does not exist, how can the Zhuge clan survive?
If he left, what about her? Would she also leave the capital and go far away to Yan Bei?
Fortunately, although Balei was a fool, there was still Wei Shuye. With the Wei clan’s decline, they would have to seize this opportunity to stand firm.
Zhuge Yue slowly raised his head, murmuring: “Don’t disappoint me.”
The next day, Wei Shuye led eighteen warriors into Old Batu’s mansion in the imperial capital, but after waiting a day, there was no sign of Zhuge Yue.
Meeting for the first time, Balei and Wei Shuye were not particularly restrained, as they had had the opportunity to work together in the southwestern camp. As soon as they sat down, General Balei immediately stated his purpose. The young noble of the empire sneered, smiling wickedly: “The Zhuge family has given up this excellent opportunity to serve the country. It seems this chance for promotion and wealth is destined to fall on the heads of us brothers.”
Wei Shuye’s face was gloomy, seemingly unwilling to entangle with Balei further. He directly got to the point, saying solemnly: “I am impetuous. May I ask if the general has a plan?”
Balei smiled triumphantly: “Yes.”
“I would like to hear the details.”
The entire operation sounded like a small-scale military coup. Three days later, on the night of the emperor’s birthday, the Seventh and Ninth Divisions of the Xiao Qi Camp stationed in the city would join the northwestern Batu Ha family’s troops, disguised as northwestern soldiers, to surround the Yan Bei convoy with Balei. Balei would personally command the operation, crushing all resistance and directly arresting the rebels. Then the guillotine would fall, the traitors would be executed, and peace would be restored to the world.
Wei Shuye understood the Sacred Gold Palace’s thinking. Many could do this, but the northwestern Batu Ha family was most suitable.
Although it was a high-profile operation, the entire action would appear like revenge and murder. Given the grudge between Old Batu in the northwest and Yan Bei, no one would suspect there was more to it. Old Batu feared that after Yan Xun married the princess, his power would expand, and upon returning to Yan Bei to succeed, he would cause trouble for him. So he sent his brother to the imperial capital to murder the innocent heir of Yan Bei. The truth of the matter was crystal clear.
Afterward, the emperor would handle the matter justly, severely reprimanding the northwestern army, then detaining General Balei, and then, after ten days or half a month, releasing him without charges in view of the northwest’s good attitude of admitting guilt, symbolically collecting some compensation. It was believed that no one would stand up for justice for the already extinct Yan Bei.
The entire operation appeared to be a private feud, unrelated to the state, and even less possibly connected to the emperor who was about to marry off his daughter.
Wei Shuye felt a sense of disgust but still frowned and said solemnly: “Three hundred Wei clan death warriors are willing to follow the general, at your disposal.”
To deal with a fallen heir, where would so many troops be needed? Balei chuckled and said: “Very well, then the young general can be responsible for clearing and intercepting reinforcements on the periphery.”
Wei Shuye smiled gently: “Thank you for the general’s guidance.”
The eighteenth day of the fifth month, deep in the night.
The young woman stood before the map, repeatedly pondering the action two nights later, and finally said solemnly: “Every link has been arranged properly, except for the visit to the ancestral temple in the south of the city for blessing. I’m still not at ease about this.”
Yan Xun raised an eyebrow, gesturing for her to continue.
“According to the ceremony, you need to go to the ancestral temple to worship your ancestors, then return to the palace with the ritual officials to marry the princess. The guards protecting you on this route are troops recruited from the Ministry of Rites, whose loyalty is not reliable. If someone intercepts you on this route, disaster will surely strike.”
Yan Xun looked at the map and said solemnly: “This area is open terrain, close to the Southwest Garrison, a mixed area of various people. Once action begins, a large army would need to be mobilized. Moreover, the Southwest Garrison has deep connections with us; they might not have the courage.”
Chu Qiao shook her head and slowly said: “To do things, one must be fully prepared. The most unlikely places are where mistakes are most likely to occur. We need to be prepared for all variables. Besides, you and I know that the Southwest Garrison is loyal neither to Yan Bei nor to you. We must be cautious.”
Yan Xun nodded, picked up the map, and began planning for possible battles and countermeasures.
Chu Qiao also took out paper and brush, bending over the desk to write.
After the time it took for an incense stick to burn, they both straightened up, exchanged papers and after just one glance, both broke into smiles.
Burn the boats! Fight with backs to the river!
If the Emperor of Xia dared to employ such a strategy, then the entire capital of Zhen Huang would see them off!
Two days passed without a ripple. Early on the twentieth day of the fifth month, the entire city of Zhen Huang was immersed in a grand celebration. Bright red brocade and silk were laid from the Purple Gold Gate all along Nine Wai Street to the East City Gate. The Emperor of Da Xia made a public appearance. Officials, merchants, common people, and civilians of the imperial capital blocked the streets, prostrating themselves and shouting “Long live the Emperor” under the direction of the capital guards, presenting a completely prosperous and magnificent scene.
For the emperor’s birthday, all criminals except those who had committed murder were granted amnesty. Violet Plaza was densely packed with kneeling criminals who had received pardons. As soon as the emperor’s carriage approached, these people immediately shouted “Long live the Emperor,” expressing gratitude for the imperial grace.
Civil and military officials and envoys from various territories knelt before the Purple Gold Gate, later following the procession along the route, enjoying the homage of the masses.
The procession continued until the afternoon. A grand banquet was held in the Sacred Gold Palace. By evening, the sky was filled with fireworks and floral lights, colorful lanterns burning high. Countless dancers performed magnificently in the plaza, music resounding throughout the imperial city. The common people cheered thunderously, creating an impressive scene.
However, just as wave upon wave of cheers rose from Violet Plaza, on the road to the ancestral temple in the south of the city, a procession of elaborately dressed people moved slowly according to ritual.
Unlike the jubilation in the inner city, this restricted area around the ancestral temple in the south of the city remained immersed in silence. The cheers from the distance continued to arrive, making the deathly stillness here all the more pronounced.
The moonlight was dim, with bright red palace lanterns flickering along both sides of the road. Yan Xun, dressed in bright red auspicious attire, sat in the carriage, his eyes slightly closed, quietly waiting for the opportunity.
With a clang, the carriage lurched and slowly stopped. Yan Xun opened his eyes, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, the last bit of hesitation in his heart instantly vanishing.
“What’s happening? Why have we stopped?”
The ritual official in charge of the procession stepped forward to ask. A young military officer quickly ran up, saying to Yan Xun behind the curtain and the ritual official outside: “Your Highness, Lord Ritual Official, the guards of the ancestral temple ahead are demanding that we get off the carriage for inspection.”
“What’s going on? This is a ritual worship of ancestors, approved ten days ago. They dare to intercept even the princess’s wedding. Which squad are they from? Do they not value their lives?”
The young military officer said with a bitter face: “Sir, I told them the same thing, but they insist on inspecting.”
“Your Highness, I will go to the front to see.”
There was silence in the carriage. The ritual official took Yan Xun’s silence as consent and left with the officer. What he didn’t know was that at this moment, the person in the carriage had already mysteriously and silently slipped away.
The murderous intent had already begun to ripple through the air, as thick as the stench of corpses.
At the front of the convoy, the ritual officials and the temple guards were arguing until their faces turned red and necks bulged, almost coming to blows.
Behind a large compound, warriors’ horses had their hooves wrapped in cotton cloth as they swiftly moved forward to meet the rapidly approaching man. A Jing dismounted and brought a warhorse for Yan Xun, saying solemnly: “Your Highness, everything is ready.”
Yan Xun nodded silently, mounted the horse, and immediately galloped toward the Southwest Garrison at the other end of the long street. There, the empire had field troops transferred from Yan Bei, permanently stationed in the imperial capital, numbering over ten thousand.
Although they were not his men, just because they shared the same Yan Bei origin, Yan Xun had decided to draw them onto his ship of outlaws.
Now, he was going to seek their help.
Amidst the standoff, a sharp, prolonged cry suddenly pierced the quiet of the night. The commander of the ancestral temple guards dropped his smile and immediately shouted harshly: “Attack!”
Blades flashed, and chaos erupted!
Amid shrill battle cries, the temple guards all drew their hidden blades and began hacking away. Each was nimble and agile—not temple guards at all but battle-hardened soldiers. In an instant, blades flashed, blood splattered, and the jarring sound of blades cutting into flesh and bone was accompanied by dense cries of shock and screams of agony.
“Execute the Yan Bei traitor!” the assassins shouted their slogan, leaping like wolves and tigers through the fragile formation hastily formed by the ritual officials at the front, quickly charging toward the middle of the convoy.
“Assassins! Enemy attack!” The lead ritual official finally reacted. He was also of military background and drew the battle knife from his waist, struggling to meet the enemy. Faithful to his duty, he shouted: “Protect His Highness! Form ranks! Call for help! Coun—”
Before he could finish, a blade immediately sliced across his throat, and blood instantly gushed out in great quantities. The man’s voice immediately became hoarse, and in an instant, his body tilted and fell into a horrific pool of blood.
The ritual officials in the carriage hadn’t even had time to get out before the assassins blocked them at the carriage door. A series of sharp whistling sounds came from all directions as more than a dozen silver arrow gleams pierced through the carriage partitions from all sides, skewering them through and through.
The carriage was narrow, with nowhere to hide. Huge screams of agony and pleas echoed in the sky above the southwest of the imperial capital, making one’s scalp tingle.
But the ruthless executioners showed no emotion. They lay prone on the ground, holding small crossbows level, steadily loading, drawing, and shooting. Rows of arrows whistled through the air, penetrating the carriage partitions and riddling those innocent imperial ritual officials. Occasionally, arrows shot by particularly strong archers would pierce through two partitions, and the arrows that came through were thick with the smell of blood, their tips still dripping with bright red blood that was shocking to behold.
The carriage guards drew their battle knives and fought back with all their might, loading arrows onto crossbows. However, the enemy’s speed was too fast; they pulled their triggers before they could even aim. But how could there be accuracy in darkness? Especially for these Ritual Department guards not skilled in warfare. In their panic, the arrows were completely useless. They had no choice but to throw down their crossbows on the spot and draw the knives from their waists to fight. Battle cries shook the heavens, and blood mixed with mud. On the wide imperial road that could accommodate eight warhorses side by side, warriors from both sides became entangled, shouting and charging, fighting to the death.
When enemies meet on a narrow road, the brave will win! They had no time to ask the names and origins of their opponents. All they could do was raise their battle knives and smash them down hard on the enemy’s head!
But there were too many enemies. A few guards were like straws in a torrent amid the crowd, swallowed by the great waves in the blink of an eye, their shadows no longer visible.
Low, shouting voices rumbled like muffled thunder, echoing in the street. The background to all this was wave after wave of cheers from the central part of the imperial capital, with fireworks and smoke continuously proclaiming what a joyous day it was. Yet it was precisely this joyous bustle that covered up the sound of this bloodthirsty massacre. No one knew, no one heard, and no one would imagine that under such a prosperous feast of celebration, there existed such a brazen and uninhibited slaughter.
The guards from the Ritual Department roared as they fought back, but the enemies were too numerous, surging in like the tide from all directions! Those ferocious faces and bloodthirsty eyes consumed the last shred of hope in people’s hearts like savage beasts.
“Fight back! Meet the enemy! The empire will send us support soon!”
However, what they didn’t know was that today’s assassins came from the very empire they were thinking of. There would be no support, no reinforcements. They were destined to be an abandoned team, sacrificed for the strength of the empire!
Their eyes were red, and the world was drenched in blood. They fired arrows almost pressed against the enemy’s head. When they ran out of arrows, they swung their ten-pound-plus crossbows like hammers, smashing enemy skulls until brains spilled out, only to be cut down by a flurry of blades. The entire long street was plunged into bloody chaos. Both sides engaged in brutal killing, with screams and wails rising densely.
Yan Xun’s carriage had been shot into a honeycomb, and no one would hope that he was still alive. The fierce battle did not last long. After the time it took for an incense stick to burn, the sounds of battle gradually thinned out and finally subsided. All two hundred-plus soldiers guarding the convoy were annihilated. Whether they resisted or surrendered, all were brutally massacred, not one left alive! Blood gurgled, forming a terrifying small river that flowed quietly down the street until it froze into bloody clots, the stench of blood assaulting the nostrils.
Just then, a magnificent firework suddenly burst in the center of the imperial capital, colorful and dazzling. A huge wave of cheers surged forth, further highlighting the deathly silence here.
This was absolutely a very successful assassination, but the planners of the assassination were not happy about it. Balei stood in the middle of the bloodbath, looking lost, and berated his subordinate: “What’s going on? Where’s the person?”
The subordinate looked panic-stricken, his face ashen, and stammered: “I don’t know, sir. We couldn’t find the heir of Yan Bei among the dead nor in the carriage. I think he may have escaped.”
“Escaped?”
Balei shouted harshly, angrily saying: “Eight hundred people attacking, three hundred guarding the perimeter, excellent weapons, full preparation, a calculated ambush, and yet you still let him escape? What use are you to me?”
“General, we… we can check with Young General Wei at the perimeter, perhaps they’ve caught him.”
“Yes,” Balei nodded immediately, about to mount his horse with a one-in-a-million hope. But just then, a thunderous sound of hoofbeats suddenly arose. The entire ground shook violently. Balei looked up in terror and saw that at the end of the pitch-black long street, dense torches were slowly approaching, gradually forming a bright band of light. The warhorses were imposing, and the killing intent was like a rainbow! What came towards them was a formidable cavalry brigade!
“It’s the Yan Bei troops from the Southwest Garrison!”
Balei cried out in shock, turning sharply: “Run quickly!”
By now it was too late to escape; two legs could never outrun four legs of a warhorse. This was no longer a battle but a literal slaughter. Among Balei’s northwestern subordinates, there was no shortage of skilled fighters, but a hastily assembled rabble organized for assassination facing a well-coordinated cavalry brigade—the result was not hard to imagine. The assassins couldn’t even withstand the first wave of attack before being shot by crossbows into complete disarray. What followed was a total collapse and a desperate flight.
“I am General Balei of the Northwestern Batu Ha family! We have imperial orders!”
A panicked voice immediately rang out. Balei retreated step by step under the protection of his guards, screaming his identity at the top of his lungs.
But who would believe him? The soldiers of the Southwest Garrison who had just been summoned by the heir of Yan Bei had all gone berserk. Since the fall of Yan Shi Cheng, the Southwest Garrison had been treated as inferior in the imperial capital, bullied, and insulted by soldiers from the Green Camp and the Xiao Qi Camp. Even the City Guard dared to look down on them. Now, having finally caught such an opportunity to perform a great service, who would believe the mad words of assassins facing death?
Daring to organize such a large-scale assassination in Zhen Huang City—they were simply tired of living.
The soldiers shouted and, swinging their battle knives, cut off the head of the one who was shouting the loudest!
Like a violent storm, the cavalry rushed in fiercely, catching up to the fleeing crowd. Before the horses arrived, they were met with a rain of arrows, which immediately shot down a large number of the fleeing assassins. Then the hooves trampled over them viciously, crushing them into meat paste.
Retribution came so quickly. The killers from just an incense stick’s burn ago had instantly become prey to the assassins’ blades, with nowhere to escape.
The thunderous sound of hoofbeats shook the heavens. The black mass of cavalry surged like a tide, and all resistance was quickly leveled wherever they went. Amid the main troops, Yan Xun, dressed in bright red auspicious attire, sat coldly on horseback, his eyes examining the battlefield like those of a hawk, his lips pressed together, bearing a cold and hard edge.
“Young Master!”
The deputy commander of the Southwest Garrison, He Xiao, rode up, his face beaming with joy as he said: “Young Master, the mission has been completed. All assassins have been eliminated, not one escaped.”
Yan Xun nodded and smiled, saying: “Commander He has rendered great service. This life-saving favor, Yan Xun will never forget.”
He Xiao shook his head and said: “Your words are too kind, Your Highness. Protecting the safety of the imperial capital is my responsibility, especially since Your Highness and the Southwest Garrison both come from Yan Bei. We cannot stand by idly.”
Yan Xun smiled and said: “The commander’s merit, I will report to the Emperor completely and intact. I believe that soon, Deputy Commander He’s ‘deputy’ title will be removed.”
He Xiao was delighted and said: “Thank you, Your Highness, for your support!”
“Commander!” Just then, a junior commander came forward and whispered in He Xiao’s ear: “Something’s not right.”
He Xiao was startled and turned his head, asking quietly: “What’s not right?”
The commander frowned deeply, his eyes panicked, and said solemnly: “Come with me and see.”
He Xiao excused himself to Yan Xun and followed the commander. When he saw the scattered corpses, he felt his vision darken, as if the world had collapsed in an instant. He almost fell from his horse.
Balei was arrogant and liked to show off. When he entered the city, almost all the citizens had witnessed his true appearance. How could He Xiao, as a leader maintaining order at the scene, not recognize him? Seeing this man lying there with a chest full of arrows, He Xiao felt his vision go black, almost fainting.
Gathering his strength, the young deputy commander still fantasized that perhaps it was just an independent assassination operation by the Northwestern Batu Ha family to eliminate the heir of Yan Bei. After all, the grudge between Old Batu and Yan Shi Cheng had long been known throughout the land.
But when he saw a large number of Xiao Qi Camp soldiers, He Xiao immediately knew that the path before him was already a dead end.
Although these soldiers were all dressed in the clothing of the Northwestern Batu Ha family, the soldiers of the Southwest Garrison, who had been stationed in the imperial capital for years, could recognize at a glance these bastards who often followed the commander of the Xiao Qi Camp and swaggered into their camp. Seeing these people, even if He Xiao was a fool, he would understand that the so-called assassination was an execution ordered by the empire.
Then, having forcibly led troops to kill the empire’s soldiers and rescue the heir of Yan Bei, what fate awaited him?
At that moment, He Xiao had only one thought: capture Yan Xun and redeem himself!
“The one who wants to kill me is the Emperor of Da Xia.”
In an instant, everyone was stunned!
Yan Xun sat high on his horse, casually glancing at the many soldiers present, then shifting his gaze to He Xiao’s face, saying in a calm tone: “Commander He, I am sorry to have involved you in this. If your Southwest Garrison were not soldiers from Yan Bei, perhaps seizing me would spare you this calamity.”
A wake-up call to the dreamer! He Xiao widened his eyes, looking at Yan Xun’s inscrutable face, and suddenly came to his senses!
The Southwest Garrison had no way back.
If it had been another unit that had killed Balei and the Xiao Qi Camp soldiers by mistake, they might have explained it away by claiming ignorance. But for the Southwest Garrison, which was already under high scrutiny by the empire and repeatedly suspected of harboring Yan Bei rebels, there was no way they could escape with their lives. The empire would not spare them, the Council of Elders would not spare them, and the Sacred Gold Palace would certainly not spare them. Turning back now would only lead to death. The man’s eyes turned red as he stared fiercely at the handsome man in red robes before him, a voice in his mind screaming frantically: He knew everything, he deliberately led me onto this path of no return!
However, he couldn’t say a word. After a moment, the ferocity in the man’s eyes gradually dissipated, replaced by a madness like that of someone with nothing to lose.
Over ten thousand people gathered on the long street, and those with clear minds immediately understood the cause and effect of the situation. They felt as if the ground itself was shaking, a void of fear. People looked up at He Xiao, at Yan Xun, or at the heavens, desperately seeking a way to survive.
All paths of retreat were blocked, with nowhere to turn back, and turning back meant certain death. The only way out might be to fight to the death!
He Xiao suddenly jumped off his warhorse and raised both hands high toward the soldiers behind him, shouting fiercely: “Brothers! There are words I’ve held back for eight years, and today I must speak them! Back then, who crushed the Prince of Canglan’s rebellion and fought their way through the Sacred Gold Palace to rescue the Emperor? Who made a thousand-mile forced march to White Horse Pass to rescue the elders and officials of the entire empire? Who resisted the Quanrong people on the Yan Bei Plateau, preventing the northern barbarians from taking a single step inside the pass, protecting our parents, wives, and children? It was the King of Yan Bei, it was the old Prince Yan Shi Cheng! But what did the loyal minister ultimately receive? The execution of his entire family, public beheading! For eight years, we soldiers of Yan Bei have endured humiliation in the imperial capital, looked down upon by the dogs of the Xiao Qi Camp and the Green Camp Army. We’ve endured all this! But now, the empire wants to harm the old prince’s only bloodline without reason, attempting to eliminate the young master with despicable means. As soldiers of Yan Bei, can we accept this?”
“No, we cannot!”
A thunderous shout immediately arose. Countless soldiers raised their swords and spears. The legends of Yan Shi Cheng’s invincibility once again surged in the heated chests of the soldiers, and the oppression they had suffered for years boiled like magma. They shouted at the top of their lungs, an impressive display!
“Brothers! We are soldiers of Yan Bei. Tonight, we have killed the empire’s conspirators. We are already tied to the same rope as the young master. If the young master is gone, we will not fare well either! Tell me, can we sit and wait for death?”
“No, we cannot!”
“We cannot die!”
“The Emperor is ungrateful and disloyal! He is not fit to lead us!”
“Confused ruler, chaotic orders! We rebel!”
No one knew who shouted the last sentence and the entire troop suddenly fell deadly silent.
Finally, someone had shouted those words, and like a wildfire, countless voices shouted in unison: “Confused ruler, chaotic orders! We rebel!”
“Warriors of Yan Bei!”
Yan Xun sat on his horse, his gaze cold as he looked at the countless raised hands below. His eyes narrowed slowly, and his voice was firm as he said solemnly: “My father has been wronged for eight years. Yan Bei has withered, trampled by evil men, and the glory of Yan Bei’s warriors has been destroyed by the corrupt imperial capital! We are all loyal subjects of the empire. We guard the frontier and fight against the northern barbarians, protecting the peace of the empire’s interior. But over time, prosperity and extravagance have blinded the eyes of the empire’s elders and the Emperor! They have forgotten who died at the frontier, building a steel wall of protection for the country with hot blood and white bones! They have forgotten who braved wind and snow, keeping the Quanrong people outside the pass! They have forgotten who, in times of crisis for the empire, saved the country from disaster time and again!”
“It was us!” the soldiers shouted in unison. “It was us, Yan Bei!”
“Yes! It was us!” The long wind howled, lifting Yan Xun’s fluttering clothes. The young man tore off the bright red ceremonial robe he wore, revealing a jet-black battle robe underneath. On that garment was embroidered a golden, brilliant war eagle—the battle flag of Yan Bei, the Golden Iron Eagle flag! Yan Xun said sternly: “The ruler is confused and cannot distinguish between loyal officials and traitors! He has forgotten our merits, giving no rewards, but instead striking deadly blows! We have merit and no guilt. We firmly refuse to submit!”
“Firmly resist! Refuse to submit until death!”
Countless hoarse voices shouted in unison: “We rebel, refusing to submit until death!”
Yan Xun drew the long sword from his waist. The wild wind whipped his black battle robe, and the golden eagle fluttered vigorously as if it would spread its wings and soar at any moment!
The young heir, trapped for eight years, let out a lion-like roar: “Soldiers! Follow me! Break out of the imperial capital, and return to Yan Bei. We have no choice but to mutiny. Today, our Yan Bei line declares independence!”
“Break out of the imperial capital! Return to Yan Bei!”
Passionate shouts pierced the sky. At the same time, a series of huge fireworks exploded in the sky above, filling the heavens with fiery trees and the eyes with splendid smoky dust!
At this moment, in Yingge Court, a woman in black battle robes stood under the pitch-black night sky, followed by a group of black-clad figures in matching attire. A snow-white eagle flew across the night sky and landed on the young woman’s shoulder. She opened the letter, her brow furrowed slightly, then relaxed.
“Warriors! The moment to test you has come!”
Chu Qiao turned around sharply, her eyes like snow, her hair like a waterfall, her tone firm as she said solemnly: “Yan Bei needs you! Da Tong needs you! The world’s common people, the thousands of commoners need you! Go, use the hearts and livers of the corrupt rulers to consecrate our newborn regime!”
A whistling sound immediately arose, and moments later, no one remained in the courtyard except Chu Qiao.
Liu Lu, the little maid, ran up anxiously and said: “Miss, we should leave now.”
“No,” the young woman shook her head decisively. “We still have one thing left to do!”