The light flickered bright and dark as the candle wick burst with a “pop.” Prefect Dou Jing, kneeling on the ground, shuddered violently at the sound.
The last batch of autumn cicadas had completely died, their corpses scattered messily across the floor. In this dim, secret chamber, deathly silence enveloped everything—not even a single insect chirp could be heard. The windows were covered with thick paper, preventing Dou Jing from distinguishing whether it was day or night, or whether this was a nightmare or cruel reality.
That evening, he had changed clothes and washed under his concubine’s service as usual, then retired to bed. The shocking case of Prince Qi’s assassination had left him exhausted, plagued by insomnia these past days. Yet tonight, for unknown reasons, he had fallen into deep sleep immediately upon lying down. When he awoke, he was shocked to find himself no longer in his own mansion but inexplicably imprisoned in this strange chamber.
As a longtime official experienced in worldly affairs, he wouldn’t normally lose composure over a strange dream. However, when his gaze fell upon the woman seated in the main position, he was instantly terrified.
Behind the curtain, a familiar yet strange face was dimly shrouded. Princess Wangshou, who had died this past May, sat expressionlessly behind the gauze screen, silently gazing at him.
She wore gray monk’s robes, her face thickly coated with white lead powder, giving her naturally bright and charming young features a grotesquely rigid appearance. The skin beneath the lead powder seemed uneven, as if deliberately concealing something. She looked like a mask, emanating a chilling, authoritative aura.
Indescribable fear pressed on Dou Jing’s spine like dark clouds. His thoughts scattered uncontrollably, each possibility making him shudder. He silently recited Buddhist sutras as cold sweat dripped onto the thick Persian carpet, instantly swallowed by the heavy fabric and vanishing without trace.
Was she a living corpse? Or an undead spirit? That hasty glimpse at Chanming Temple that day hadn’t been an illusion caused by his aging eyes after all. If this was a nightmare, he begged the Buddha to let him quickly awaken from this terrible dream. Yet the sharp pain at the back of his neck and his undignified sleeping clothes constantly reminded him of this strange event’s reality.
“Prefect Dou, we meet again. On the Ghost Festival, you clearly saw me, yet why didn’t you come pay respects?” The lead-powder-coated Princess Wangshou spoke, her familiar voice sounding very calm, carrying the hoarseness that follows screaming oneself raw.
Dou Jing fell to his knees with a thud, calling out tremblingly: “Princess! This humble minister… this humble minister…”
He stammered incoherently. Baozhu said indifferently: “Don’t be afraid. The coffin beneath Zhongnan Mountain was completely empty. After death, I shed my mortal body and ascended to immortality, now possessing celestial status. By the Heavenly Emperor’s command, I’ve returned to the mortal world to complete unfinished business.”
Dou Jing dared not look up directly, staring at her shoe soles while secretly pondering this statement’s true meaning. After Prince Qi’s death, household slaves scattered in flight, exposing eight years of truth about the Guanyin slaves’ “ascension,” causing public uproar. Yet now, a genuinely resurrected girl of noble blood claimed to have ascended. What exactly was the “unfinished business” she spoke of?
Had Chanming Temple’s Master Tanlin achieved bodily enlightenment on Ghost Festival night, leaving last words about celestial guidance—could it have been the princess’s doing?
Princess Wangshou continued: “Li Yu was assassinated. Prefect Dou has worked hard these past days. A Li-surnamed prince, killed by Emperor Taizong’s Giant Que Heaven Bow and four-fletched arrows, with both eyes gouged out—these details probably shouldn’t be written in case files for imperial review.”
Dou Jing shuddered again. Since receiving the report and stationing troops at the prince’s mansion, he had kept the specific details of Prince Qi’s assassination strictly confidential. How did she know these things? Moreover, Prince Qi being her imperial uncle, propriety dictated she shouldn’t address him by name.
“Prefect Dou, don’t be constrained. Ask whatever you wish to ask. ‘Why does the princess know so clearly?'” She revealed a cold smile, asking and answering herself: “Because I personally shot that beast dead.”
Dou Jing’s face immediately turned ashen with terror.
From testimonies obtained at Prince Qi’s mansion, he knew the assassins were a man and woman, with the woman wielding the bow and never missing. Princess Wangshou had been skilled at archery in life, capable of hitting targets at a hundred paces—this indeed matched the killer’s characteristics. Previously, no one could understand how two bandits had such audacity to openly storm a prince’s mansion and slaughter freely as if in uninhabited territory. Now this question finally had a definite answer.
He asked tremblingly: “Why… Prince Qi was His Majesty’s elder brother, the princess’s own uncle!”
“Li Yu violated heaven and reason, cruel and tyrannical. The imperial ancestors commanded me to eliminate this unworthy descendant who shamed our bloodline, hence I used that special weapon to execute him. However, his monstrous crimes cannot be written off with death—that’s far from sufficient.”
Princess Wangshou extended her finger toward a scroll on the table, commanding: “Go look carefully.”
Full of alarm, Dou Jing knee-walked several steps toward the desk. He saw not only writing materials on the table, but also his official and private seals prominently displayed—a sight that made his heart race and ominous premonitions intensify. Dou Jing unrolled the paper with both hands, quickly scanning it. He immediately grasped the princess’s intent, trembling uncontrollably, pressing his forehead to the ground and saying in a shaking voice: “This humble minister dares not! This is an unforgivable capital crime!”
“If you won’t impeach him, I’ll find others to handle it. When the matter breaks, as Eastern Capital’s chief administrator, with Prince Qi plotting rebellion in your territory, that constitutes your negligence—with suspicion of colluding with rebels. Would you rather bear responsibility for your entire family’s lives as scapegoats?”
Dou Jing shook his head desperately. Already in his twilight years, he had come to Luoyang to prepare for retirement, never wanting involvement in bloody imperial struggles. His voice carried despair as he argued desperately: “Prince Qi’s heir has true dragon bloodline, a precious body protected by masters, and the princess consort comes from Taiyuan’s Wang clan. How dare this minister falsely accuse them without evidence?”
“True dragon, hah…”
A hand emerged from behind the gauze screen, fingertips dyed brilliant red with balsam juice. In the dim candlelight, it seemed freshly drawn from a pool of blood. Princess Wangshou opened her palm, revealing a bowstring cut on the inside of her fingers.
Dou Jing’s gaze focused on the strand of golden-yellow hair in her palm, like some animal’s mane.
“The law states: Only one person may dance the Yellow Lion. Entertainment that only His Supreme Majesty is qualified to observe—Li Yu dared perform it at private banquets. His family all knew clearly, and this mane is iron evidence. Li Yu inherited Li bloodline, but wasn’t satisfied—he also fantasized about becoming the true dragon Son of Heaven. His heart deserves death.”
Princess Wangshou drew two booklets from her chest, tossing them toward the kneeling Dou Jing. The booklets were exquisitely crafted, covers carefully painted with golden osmanthus patterns.
Dou Jing, whose life skill was deflecting responsibility and self-preservation, sweated profusely. He frantically defended himself: “Please investigate clearly, Princess! This minister truly never participated in Prince Qi mansion’s banquets!”
She said coldly: “Li Yu twice sent people to deliver Golden Osmanthus Banquet invitations to you. You knew the truth about the Guanyin slave case, understood what performances the evening banquets would feature, so dared not attend. Prince Qi mansion’s masters have all been personally eliminated by me. The privately stored armor isn’t in the armory but hidden in Xiangyun Hall’s dance prop room. Now with both evidence and perpetrators captured, iron-clad proof—Prefect Dou, what excuses do you have left?”
Dou Jing thought in terror: So the princess personally went to Prince Qi’s mansion not merely to assassinate Li Yu, but to obtain evidence for eliminating his entire family. Whether Prince Qi truly had treasonous intent no longer mattered. The excuses he used for evasion had all been seen through, even the invitations hidden in his own mansion discovered.
Once this matter was exposed, not only would no descendant of Prince Qi survive, but the entire Eastern Capital’s upper echelons would likely face a bloodbath.
Princess Wangshou drew a rhinoceros horn dagger from her waist, saying sternly: “Emperor Taizong had a horse named Lion Cong, so fat and spirited none could tame it. Empress Wu said to Taizong: ‘I can control it, but need three things: an iron whip, an iron club, and a dagger. Strike it with the iron whip if it won’t submit, club its head if still defiant, and cut its throat with the dagger if it remains stubborn.’
Dou Jing, you are that obstinate Lion Cong. I’ve given you two chances: First, on Ghost Festival, I appeared at Chanming Temple summoning you to distribute grain for disaster relief, but you ignored me and fled—that night I activated Wang Sui. Second, I sent Yang Xingjian to strike the petition drum, commanding you to thoroughly investigate the Guanyin slave injustice case, but you claimed illness and refused to see him, leaving him lying in the courthouse all night—I had to personally settle Li Yu.”
She slowly drew the dagger, its blade flickering menacingly in the candlelight. “This is the last time.”
Dou Jing had no escape, cornered into desperation. Defying her meant dying on the spot with certain posthumous family involvement; obeying her meant entering political whirlpools with uncertain fate. But ultimately, she would still achieve her desired result.
Only another dragon could kill a dragon. Dou Jing realized: as a horse driven by others, wanting to remain neutral during dragon-tiger struggles was pure fantasy.
Dou Jing swallowed with difficulty, desperately considering self-preservation possibilities. After a moment, he took the lion’s mane from Princess Wangshou’s hand, bowing submissively: “Reporting to Princess, this humble minister, while investigating Prince Qi’s assassination case and entering the mansion to search for clues, accidentally discovered Li Yu’s treasonous plotting, private armor storage, and Yellow Lion dancing. To prevent co-conspirator rebellion, this minister will deploy troops to surround the prince’s mansion and detain his family.”
Baozhu smiled coldly, nodding slightly in approval: “Those who understand circumstances are outstanding talents.”
Dou Jing supported himself on the table to barely stand, restraining his trembling arms as he lifted his brush, dipped ink, and copied the draft onto yellow vine paper pages, then obediently stamped his official and private seals. Upon completion, he was soaked through as if pulled from water.
Princess Wangshou took the letter, carefully reading each word to prevent trickery. This impeachment letter and Mi Moyan’s hair would be sent to Chang’an’s Daming Palace at eight-hundred-li emergency speed, carrying lethal force to raise towering waves.
Then she announced in an authoritative voice: “This is Heaven’s mandate.”
With these words—the agreed signal—Dou Jing suddenly felt sharp pain at his neck’s back, then his vision darkened as he collapsed to the ground, falling into unconsciousness again.
Wei Xun looked worriedly at Baozhu. To complete this necessary performance, she had weakened to the point of being unable to sheath her blade. Only after Dou Jing lost consciousness did she show fatigue, leaning against the chair back.
He quickly collected the Henan Prefect’s seals, stuffing them into Dou Jing’s chest, then picked up the old man and walked through the door into the courtyard. A top assassin waited quietly in the darkness, ready to complete the latter half of the mission. This time no killing was required—she only needed to gather evidence, kidnap the target, then return him to his original location.
Though the task seemed strange, Tuoba Sanniang never questioned reasons. She picked up Dou Jing, saying lazily: “So roundabout. I thought Senior Brother would personally act against that prince’s mansion.”
Wei Xun said expressionlessly: “She wants personal revenge—not just the prince’s mansion, but to purge Luoyang, cutting grass and pulling roots.”
Tuoba Sanniang’s eyes brightened with appreciative admiration. Then she meaningfully reminded: “Please remember, Senior Brother—this time you owe all of us a great favor.”
Wei Xun said flatly: “I remember. As long as I live, I’ll repay you all.”
Tuoba Sanniang smiled satisfiedly. The white shadow flickered as she disappeared into the night with the unconscious Dou Jing.
Author’s Notes: “Emperor Taizong had a horse named Lion Cong, so fat and spirited none could tame it…” is excerpted from “Comprehensive Mirror for Aid in Government”—the familiar story of young Wu Zetian taming horses. The Yellow Lion Dance case was a famous major case during Emperor Xuanzong’s reign. The person who erred was his brother Prince Qi Li Fan (the Prince Qi from “commonly seen at Prince Qi’s mansion”). Li Fan consistently supported Li Longji and contributed greatly to eliminating Princess Taiping, so the brothers had good relations. Therefore Li Longji only demoted him from Chang’an to serve as regional governor. But many officials were exiled due to Li Fan’s involvement, including the famous poet Wang Wei.