“There is something rather amusing,” Xie Yuzhang said. “Father Emperor did not have time to abdicate, Huang Yungong did not have time to ascend the throne, and Li Gu had already broken through the city walls. Those freshly made ceremonial robes thus ended up benefiting Li Gu. But Li Gu is far too tall — Huang Yungong had made them a size too short. His men said they should be remade, but Li Gu found the trouble unnecessary, and had people dig out from the storerooms Father Emperor’s spare ceremonial robes that had never been worn. They cut off a section from the hem and sewed it on, and just like that, he ascended the throne.”

It did indeed sound rather amusing. After the Da Mu dynasty was established, it did become a piece of popular folklore.

But spoken by Xie Yuzhang, and heard by Lin Fei, there was nothing amusing about it at all.

This was an age of sweeping upheaval — who knew how many people in the south were now rushing about forging alliances, how many harboring surging ambitions, how many sharpening their blades. Just thinking about it made the blood run hot.

And yet they…

“There is nothing we can do.” Lin Fei sighed. “We are truly useless.”

“You are far too greedy!” Xie Yuzhang shot her a sideways glance. “Just living well is enough.”

“True enough. Life is so uncertain — simply staying alive is already no easy feat.” Lin Fei said.

Xie Yuzhang looked at her askance. “You sound like a little old woman.”

Lin Fei was at a loss for words. “Aren’t you like this all the time?”

“I have lived two lifetimes and died once.” Xie Yuzhang said. “You are not yet twenty.”

She had persisted in claiming that she had already lived one full life in her dreams. Over time she gradually stopped saying “dream” altogether, and spoke only of “a previous life.”

“But what I said is not wrong.” Lin Fei said. “Consider you — born of the Empress, precious beyond words, that goes without saying. And even I — my grandfather was the Prime Minister, my father presided over the Censorate, and at six years old I was already betrothed to the legitimate grandson of the Qin Prefecture Gao Clan… And yet look at where we are now. Can this not be called uncertainty?”

Xie Yuzhang said, “Oh — the Qin Prefecture Gao Clan!”

If Lin Fei had not brought it up, she would have forgotten all about the Gao family.

Chancellor Lin had dashed himself to death on the floor of the golden hall. The Lin family had been convicted of crimes. Though Lin Fei had taken refuge in the Zhaoxia Palace, she had still been entered into the registry of the lowly. That grand and envied betrothal — once the talk of the town — had come to nothing.

“What became of his family afterward?” Lin Fei asked, curious.

Xie Yuzhang first glanced at her expression.

“I only met him once, when I was ten.” Lin Fei said impatiently. “Just say it directly.”

Xie Yuzhang relaxed and said, “They all died. Every last one.”

“The Gao family was quite formidable — when every hero under heaven had already bowed their heads, they were the ones who resisted to the very end. That would-have-been father-in-law of yours, with no one left to oppose him, actually publicly proclaimed himself emperor.” Xie Yuzhang said. “Li Gu therefore exterminated the entire Gao clan. This man — his murderous disposition is rather heavy. Everyone fears him.”

Lin Fei smiled ambiguously. “The way you speak of him, it sounds as if he is someone to you.”

Xie Yuzhang looked blankly at the sky. “You asked me, so I told you. It just came out naturally. That is what everyone says about him.”

Lin Fei sighed. “It would have been better if he had succeeded sooner.”

“How could it have been that easy.” Xie Yuzhang said.

To conquer and rule all under heaven — there was not a shred of pretense to it. Li Gu had carved out his realm with sword and spear, one blade at a time.

“Alas, Li Ming is nearly dead as well.” Xie Yuzhang sighed. “What a figure of his generation.”

At that time, when the news of Li Ming’s death reached Mobei, Ashina had even wept for him, saying over and over: How could Li Shorty have died? How could he just die like that? I haven’t even gone to kill him yet!

He had even held a distant memorial offering. The impression it left on Xie Yuzhang was deep.

After all, he was the kind of man worthy of the Mobei Heavenly Khan shedding tears.

Lin Fei asked. “How exactly did he die?”

“No one knows. Candlelight and a dagger’s shadow — a mystery of history.” Xie Yuzhang spread her hands. “They say the Second Young Master of the Li clan refused to his dying day to admit that he had killed Li Ming. But at the time, Li Ming was lying ill in bed. A maidservant who had tried to bring medicine in later claimed she had seen a shadow cast by candlelight on the wall — a shadow with a dagger in its hand. She was so frightened she did not dare enter. And after that, Li Ming was dead, and Hexi fell into chaos for a while. Ah, yes — it was precisely then that Li Gu’s fearsome reputation finally spread beyond Hexi. He had killed far too many people.”

Xie Yuzhang continued. “Though whether he admitted it or not no longer makes any difference. Even if Li Ming had not died by his hand, it is absolutely certain that he killed the Fourth Young Master. They say the head was even hung on the city wall. Li Gu hated him for murdering his adoptive father, and desecrating the Fourth Young Master’s corpse — so he had him torn apart by carriages.”

Lin Fei shuddered.

After a long moment, she exhaled and said, “Zhuzhu, I was only joking just now. As for Li Gu himself…”

“I know.” Xie Yuzhang said with a sigh. “You have not seen what he was like later on. I was always very afraid of him. Hmm — his feet are very large.”

Lin Fei: “…”

Xie Yuzhang said. “Every time I encountered him, I did not dare raise my head, and I did not dare let my eyes wander. I could only stare at his shoes. And I noticed — his feet are so large.”

Lin Fei wanted to laugh, and yet felt a pang of sorrow.

Xie Yuzhang had not finished.

Memories are like that — pull on one thread, and a whole long string of them comes trailing out.

“He is a particularly insufferable man.” she said. “He was the Emperor, after all. When paths crossed, we would step aside to let him pass first. Every time, he would not move — he would just stand there. So we had no choice but to go around him, all without daring to raise our eyes.”

As she spoke, the memory surfaced — skirting past the Emperor’s side, yet not daring to lift her skirts and run, only taking rapid little steps to scurry away, wanting only to leave as quickly as possible.

The Emperor’s gaze on her back. Always burning.

“What are you smiling about?” Lin Fei asked, puzzled.

Xie Yuzhang felt a sudden unease, and turned her horse’s head around. “Let’s go. There is still much to prepare.”

Lin Fei rode to catch up. “Prepare for what?”

“To prepare to become the Khan’s wife.” Xie Yuzhang said.

“…” Lin Fei sighed. “Alas.”

“It is nothing. Being with him is more stable than being with anyone else.” Xie Yuzhang said. “We’ll see how to keep him from dying too soon.”

Lin Fei murmured dully. “He is too old.”

Xie Yuzhang said. “If he were not this old, staying on the grasslands for the rest of one’s life would actually not be so terrible.”

But that was not realistic. Ashina was growing old and feeble, while Li Gu was young and heroic. The difference in their ages meant the grasslands would inevitably fall into the flames of war sooner or later, and she would certainly have to take her people and return to Yunjing.

Returning to Yunjing — a dream these Zhao people did not dare to dream.

“Come, let’s go back.” she said. “I still have dancing to practice. I promised him I would dance for him.”

Lin Fei’s expression darkened.

Xie Yuzhang said. “Ah, stop pulling that face. It is nothing. News reaches here so slowly — we must secure him before the news arrives.”

Lin Fei said. “He was already secured by you long ago.”

Xie Yuzhang said. “Not yet. He understands everything. He simply enjoys hearing me say pleasing things.”

The two talked as they rode, loosening their reins and drifting slowly homeward.

The age rolled onward. The brush of history, sharp as a blade, recorded every conflagration in Yunjing, every last tear.

Those besieging the city were jackals. Those coming to the Emperor’s aid were starving wolves.

Nightmares came one after another.

Princess Anle bit down hard on the man. He gasped in pain and slapped her away with a fierce grin. “What a fiery temper. Still think you’re a princess? Today I am going to taste what a princess is like!”

Anle’s lips bled. She looked at him, laughing coldly.

The man tore open his collar and moved to advance. A flash of gold — the princess pierced herself with a golden hairpin and fell to the ground, dead.

Inside the palace, Noble Consort Chen quietly regained consciousness.

Her clothes barely covered her body. Filth covered her from head to toe.

The hall was silent and empty. Outside the window, there was still the glow of fire, and the screams and wails of palace maids could be heard.

A scene from the depths of hell on earth.

Noble Consort Chen hauled herself upright and staggered over to the wardrobe. The doors hung open. Many of the gorgeous, vivid garments were gone, and many more had fallen to the floor, soiled.

Noble Consort Chen found a garment and wrapped it around her body. She felt about with her hands, and from inside the wardrobe she found a sash.

Noble Consort Chen raised her head and gazed vacantly up at the crossbeam overhead…

Some straggling soldiers had come late to the looting, sweeping through one palace chamber after another, hoping perhaps to be lucky enough to pick up whatever the earlier men had missed.

They pushed open the lattice doors of Yuzao Palace’s sleeping quarters. Directly before them was a pair of feet hanging in mid-air. Looking up — a woman had hanged herself, her tongue lolling out long, her face a sight of horror.

Noble Consort Chen Shu-fei had hanged herself from a beam. Not a trace of the beauty she had once possessed could be made out.

In the Eastern Palace, the tense atmosphere was shattered when suddenly someone pounded on the door. Everyone jumped with fright.

“Open the door! Open the door! It’s me, Jia You! It’s Jia You! Crown Prince brother, sister-in-law! Open the door!” a small girl’s voice cried and pleaded from outside.

At a time like this, how could the Eastern Palace dare open its doors. A guard climbed a ladder to the top of the wall and held a torch to look down, then turned back and said, “Your Highness, it is indeed Princess Jia You.”

The Crown Prince said, “Quickly! Get her in!”

Everyone tore bed sheets into strips, knotted them into a long rope, and let it down. Princess Jia You tied it around her waist and was pulled up.

When Princess Jia You landed, the Crown Princess Consort of the Yu family rushed forward and embraced her. “Why is it only you? Where is Fu Kang?”

“Sister, sister…” Jia You’s face was deathly pale, her lips trembling.

Fire rose inside the palace. Screaming could be heard.

Sister Fu Kang had come running and grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the Eastern Palace. Jia You was too small, and no longer remembered that this was what Princess Baohua had repeatedly urged her before she left.

On the way they had encountered the rogue soldiers. The soldiers gave chase, and Fu Kang dragged her along, running with all her might. But they were bound to be unable to outrun them.

Fu Kang pushed her behind a large fire-resistant water vat and told her, “Run to the Eastern Palace!”

The rogue soldiers came around the corner in pursuit. Fu Kang led them in the opposite direction of the Eastern Palace. Jia You ran toward the Eastern Palace with everything she had, glancing back as she ran.

In the firelight, she watched as Fu Kang’s slender figure was seized by those soldiers.

Why were they tearing at sister’s clothes?

Jia You was not yet ten years old. She did not understand. She only knew that something very terrible was going to happen.

She ran with all her might. Her small size let her hide in all manner of places. She slipped past several groups of rogue soldiers and finally made it to the Eastern Palace.

“Crown Prince brother! Save sister, save sister Fu Kang!” Jia You cried and begged.

Princess Anle had never been close to her; Princess Baohua, who had gone far away in marriage, she could barely remember. In her heart, the only “sister” was Fu Kang, who had always lived with her.

The Crown Prince and Yu Shi wore expressions of blank numbness.

At a time like this, who could save whom?

Fuchun clutched his valuables and hid himself in a small section of drainage ditch behind the prison quarters. Almost no one knew of this spot, and no one would come to search it. It was extremely safe.

He had barely finished thinking this when the waterproof tiles above his head were pried open.

Fuchun looked up in terror and met the equally terrified face of his own bunkmate.

Of course — this spot was right behind the prison quarters where he lived. No one else would know of it, but his bunkmate would.

Two equally scrawny eunuchs, fighting over this tiny scrap of shelter, launched into a silent, deadly struggle in the darkness.

Fuchun strangled his bunkmate and dragged the body into the bushes.

He was about to leave when something stirred in his heart.

He carefully searched his bunkmate’s body, and from the man’s breast, sash, crotch, and shoes, he extracted gold and silver valuables. He stuffed it all into his own breast, and then crawled back into the drainage ditch to hide once more.

This was not yet the time to go out.

In times of such chaos, killing was done without a blink, and no one cared who you were. Whoever went out came to grief.

One had to wait until the killing was sated and things had quieted down — only then was it safe to go out.

No matter who the new master of this imperial city turned out to be, there would always be a need for people to serve them, Fuchun thought.

He only hoped the sky would lighten soon.

That the crying and screaming would stop.

The fire — please, do not burn its way here.

If it all burned to ash, where would the new noble masters live?

At the Xishan Villa, Prince Shou stood on the Buddhist tower watching the glow of fires over Yunjing, his lips trembling.

“Da Hu, your mother, your mother…” He sobbed and wept.

He had lived a comfortable and idle life of wealth his entire years, capable only of the sort of things that add adornment to peaceful and prosperous times. He was simply unable to withstand upheaval of this magnitude. His spirit had completely abandoned him, and he was utterly at a loss.

It was clearly summer, yet Commandery Princess Kangle was still wrapped in a brocade robe, her figure thin and frail, as though the wind might carry her off. Yet she stood far more upright than her father.

She stared at the night’s glow of fire. Though she could hear nothing, the silence of the sight only made it all the more terrifying.

“Find an empty room and pull out the doors and beams to reinforce the main gate.” She ordered the steward. “Extinguish the lanterns at the main gate. Every courtyard — lights out. Unless absolutely necessary, no lamplight whatsoever. Do not let anyone notice we are here.”

The steward complied without hesitation, not even sparing a glance at the weeping, shaking Prince Shou, and went off to carry out the orders.

It was entirely thanks to Commandery Princess Kangle’s sharp eyes that they had escaped Yunjing’s catastrophe here. She had been the one to smell danger early, and to persuade the prince to temporarily move to the Xishan Villa.

In such times as these, it was the commandery princess — who needed to stop every few steps to catch her breath — who was the backbone of everyone here.

“Da Hu! Da Hu!” Prince Shou wept with tears and snot streaming down his face. “What is to become of your mother?”

Xie Baozhu’s face was pale, her lips pressed tightly together.

When Lin Xiupu laid siege to the city and Huang Yungong brought troops to the Emperor’s aid, she had known things were going to go wrong.

Why did people have such short memories? Such short-sightedness? They could only see the immediate crisis resolved, never thinking that history had played out this same scene time and again, and not once had it ended well.

She had worked hard to persuade her father to temporarily move here to the villa. But then her mother had complained that the neighboring estates were all deserted and too desolate, and had insisted on returning to Yunjing. She kept saying, “Lin Xiupu is already dead. It is all over now.”

Xie Baozhu had only managed to hold her back for so long. She never could have imagined that Princess Consort Shou, unable to endure the loneliness, would give no word to anyone, and quietly take her people back to the capital on her own.

That had been yesterday. She had only discovered it this morning, and had already sent people to go after her. Those she sent had not yet returned, and tonight, flames were blazing up into the sky over Yunjing!

How was she to tell her father that her mother… would most likely not be able to come back alive?

“Da Hu! Da Hu! What are we to do?” Prince Shou tugged at her clothes with tear-blurred eyes. “Where can we flee?”

“We are going nowhere.” Xie Baozhu said. “The world is about to descend into complete chaos. There is no safe place to go.” “We can only wait.”

Prince Shou did not understand. “Wait?”

Xie Baozhu said. “I have had the estate stock provisions. Starting now, food for every person will be rationed. No one is permitted to waste a single grain! We will shrink ourselves away here and wait until everything has been settled — until Yunjing has a new master. He will determine our fate.”

Prince Shou shuddered. “That will not do — that is waiting to die. Da Hu, let us flee!”

Xie Baozhu looked at him. “Flee where?”

Prince Shou could not answer.

“Though the world is vast, there is no place to shelter us.” Xie Baozhu stated the truth with cold clarity. “It is simply what comes of bearing the surname Xie.”

As members of the imperial family, no matter where they fled — when the powerful men there raised the banner of revolt, they would be used as the sacrificial offering to consecrate that banner.

Prince Shou slumped and collapsed to the ground.