The earth was damp with summer heat, cicadas chirping incessantly. Along both sides of the Vermillion Bird Avenue, dense shade from locust and elm trees blanketed the ground. As the sun rose in the east, its rays burst forth in all directions, the morning light showering down. The resonant sound of street drums echoed from the gate towers, spreading far and wide. The bells and drums from towers in all directions joined in response, merging into vast oceanic waves of sound that shook heaven and earth.

However today, even more thunderous than the drums was the roar of human voices. The Vermillion Bird Avenue was packed with a surging sea of people. News of Princess Wenzhao’s return to the capital had set the entire Chang’an into a frenzy.

Commoners poured out of their homes, rushing madly toward the square. Noble youths and ladies, officials and clerks, the young men of the Five Tombs who had once admired the Princess’s grace and beauty, common folk who had received her kindness – men and women, young and old, none willing to be left behind, all dressed in their brightest clothes, crowding the avenue until not a drop of water could pass through.

“Is Princess Wenzhao riding a horse or taking a carriage? Will she be able to see us?”

“I heard the Prince Consort is the ruler of a foreign nation called Wang Ting. Is he returning with the Princess?”

“I heard the Prince Consort used to be a monk! A Buddha’s son!”

“The Prince Consort has jade-like features like an immortal descended to earth – a perfect match for the Princess!”

Amidst the clamorous discussions, the sound of fluttering flags came from the end of the freshly swept avenue.

The crowd grew wildly excited, clutching the shoulders of those in front of them and standing on tiptoes to look.

Through the morning mist, gray shadows emerged from the thin fog.

The first things to catch their eyes were flags fluttering in the wind – austere black and piercing white, covered in dense writing. The flag-bearing soldiers wore light armor and white robes, their expressions solemn.

The crowd was stunned.

These were not Wang Ting’s banners, nor the Western Army’s flags.

They were soul-guiding banners inscribed with the names of the deceased, with long streamers attached that were also covered in writing.

The procession continued column after column, endless, the banners’ sound filling heaven and earth.

Next came the rumbling of vehicles, as wagon after wagon followed behind the banner formation through the gate tower.

When the crowd realized what the wooden tablets on the wagons were, the scattered conversations in the crowd came to an abrupt halt.

A heavy atmosphere descended over the square.

Yang Qian and Yang Nianxiang, both in armor and holding official tokens and maps, walked beside the wagons. Their steps were heavy, their handsome features stern and solemn.

Beside and behind them, wagon after wagon carrying ash urns and memorial tablets slowly made their way down the great avenue.

Some of these tablets had been personally inscribed by Yang Qian. Though their backgrounds differed, some were his clansmen, some were ordinary people who had knelt weeping at his feet asking if their ten-thousand-word petitions had reached Chang’an, some were comrades-in-arms who had fought alongside him, and most were strangers he had never met.

They shared one common wish – to reclaim lost territory and return east to their homeland.

For this, some had waited desperately for decades, some had found ways to support the Western Army, and some had laid down their brushes to take up arms, fighting to the death and falling beneath enemy blades.

Princess Wenzhao had memorial tablets made for them, and today, the Princess was bringing them home. They would be sent to their ancestral lands for burial, their souls returning to their native soil.

Along both sides of the avenue, silence fell.

No one dared disturb the deceased. Tears glimmered in their eyes as they quietly watched the tablets on the wagons pass by.

In this moment, what passed before their eyes were not wagons carrying memorial tablets and ashes, but thousands upon thousands of common folk who had been captured in war, taken far from home, and endured endless suffering, hoping that in death they could return to their roots like falling leaves. They were the countless souls who had sacrificed their lives so their people could return east.

Among them were the elderly, children, men, women, poor farmers, and spirited young nobles. They were no different from the people of Chang’an, but they had been forcibly cut off from their homeland, wandering without rest, countless times bowing toward the east, praying for the imperial army to reclaim lost territory so they could return home.

Souls, come home.

Return, lonely spirits wandering abroad.

Return, young heroes who sacrificed themselves leading their people east in resistance against oppression.

You have come home.

Look, the Western Regions have been pacified, and the Yellow River and Hexi Corridor flow freely. You have finally returned to the homeland of your dreams, your departed souls finding peace.

From now on, from the vast fertile Central Plains to the bitter cold snow-covered plateau, there will be no more war and killing. Farmers will carry hoes to plow and plant, merchants will travel east and west in wagons laden with silk and jewels, and herdsmen will leisurely graze their cattle and sheep on the endless grasslands. Han people, Hu people, Northerners, Southerners, Buddhists, Daoists, Zoroastrians, Manicheans – all will live in harmony, creating a great era of peace.

Your descendants can live stable lives. They will not suffer as you did, living day to day in uncertainty, separated from family, a lifetime of wandering.

The long wind gusted, lifting the banners high, their streamers dancing in the breeze.

Those departed spirits seemed to appear vividly before the people’s eyes, arms around each other’s shoulders, walking along the crowded Vermillion Bird Avenue, laughing, marveling, and reflecting.

The people gazed at them silently.

Better to be a dog in peaceful times than a human in chaos!

Atop the city gate, Li De wore the Tongtian crown and ceremonial robes, standing beneath the flags, gazing at the distant procession with its fluttering banners.

The common people’s tears flowed freely. The square that had just been filled with noise was now as still as calm waters, with only the sound of wagon wheels rolling along the avenue and banners snapping in the spring wind.

Li De’s expression was grave.

Several attendants behind him exchanged glances: they had all thought the Western Army commanders would surely escort Princess Wenzhao into the city, using the opportunity to display the Western Army’s might before Li De. They could have caused difficulties then, but unexpectedly the first to enter the city were the displaced people and fallen soldiers. Princess Wenzhao was nowhere to be seen.

In this situation, nothing else mattered. Who would dare risk public outrage by testing whether the Western Army was unified?

Below the city gate by the ceremonial platform, the civil and military officials watched the approaching wagons, deeply moved and long silent.

Young officials couldn’t help but grow misty-eyed, their hearts burning with passionate fervor.

The elderly officials quietly exchanged glances and silently sighed.

They still remembered the day the Princess left for her diplomatic marriage, dressed in magnificent clothes, riding in a carriage away from Chang’an as people lined the streets weeping to see her off.

At that time, they all thought the Princess would never return, that she would soon perish amidst the warring tribes.

After several years, the Princess had returned to Chang’an with maps of dozens of prefectures and her troops.

Victory songs now replace the Clear Peace Song – this is not like when Zhaojun left the frontier.

Li De glanced at the officials below, taking in everyone’s expressions.

An attendant wiped his sweat and whispered, “Your Majesty, the Princess has won the people’s hearts…”

Li De’s expression remained calm.

It was precisely because of this that he had to be more wary of Li Yaoying. She had the people’s support, troops, a rebellious brother, would marry the King of Tanmo, and was also Li Xuanzhen’s weakness.

The Rites Ministry officials reacted quickly, immediately dispatching talented new examination graduates to write several stirring memorial texts on the spot to commemorate the deceased.

Li De gestured for his attendants to issue an imperial edict comforting the various prefectures of the Western Regions.

Yang Qian and the Hexi commanders kowtowed in gratitude for imperial grace on behalf of the displaced people.

There was not a dry eye among the people in the square.

…

Yaoying rode at the rear of the procession. Officials from the Ministry of Rites came out to repeatedly entreat her to enter the city in an elaborately decorated carriage, but she shook her head, saying, “I am here to escort the deceased home, there is no need for me to make a special appearance.”

The officials were somewhat surprised. Sign in daylight with wine flowing free, youth makes the best companion for returning home – the ceremony for returning to the city was so grand, the Princess appearing before the people would help win their hearts. She had endured such hardships in the Western Regions, was she willing to miss this excellent opportunity to make a grand showing?

Yaoying turned her horse, riding straight through their midst.

She had promised those elders and fallen soldiers she would escort them home, and she would keep her word.

Today’s protagonists were the deceased.

Below the gate tower, after the ceremonial officials announced Yaoying’s titles, all the young officials of the court raised their heads with tense anticipation. Several of the more impatient ones even forgot propriety, craning their necks to look.

Countless gazes turned toward Yaoying at once.

In the crowd, Zheng Jing watched the avenue, remembering when he first saw her and smiled slightly.

Banners fluttering, surrounded by personal guards and retinue, Yaoying rode her horse, her hair bound with silk ribbons, wearing a narrow-sleeved brocade robe with a turned-down collar. With heroic grace, she galloped to the steps, smoothly dismounted, and under the gaze of the civil and military officials, ascended the steps. First taking the incense handed over by Yang Qian, she bowed toward the memorial altar from afar, her bearing divine and dignified.

Awed by her presence, everyone stood motionless, none daring to step forward to exchange greetings.

The court officials stared at her dumbfounded, meeting the cold gazes of her guards, suddenly remembering that Princess Wenzhao was no longer the helpless Seventh Princess of before. She commanded the Western Army and governed the Western Regions – even the Emperor could not casually interfere.

Everyone exchanged glances, recalling rumors that Li Zhongqian had secretly returned to the capital intending assassination but was captured on the spot. He was Princess Wenzhao’s full brother, and with their deep sibling bond, no wonder Li De hadn’t issued an order for immediate execution. Keeping Li Zhongqian alive would ensure Princess Wenzhao’s good behavior.

After the ceremony, the palace held a great feast to welcome the Western Army commanders.

Yang Qian looked around and couldn’t help asking, “Why don’t I see His Highness the Crown Prince?”

An official replied, “The Crown Prince leads troops abroad and has not yet returned to the capital.”

Yaoying’s seat was to Li De’s left. She did not watch the songs and dances, but lifted her wine cup, stepped forward, and got straight to the point: “Your Majesty, where is my elder brother? Is he alive or dead?”

Li De smiled slightly. After several years, she was still direct, never exchanging empty pleasantries with him, and still loyal to relationships, willing to risk danger for Li Zhongqian.

He had not announced who the assassin was and could secretly execute the assassin at any time. She had no way to force him to release the person, and though she knew Chang’an was a trap, she could only walk straight into it.

“You’ve been away from the Central Plains for long. Stay a few more days, and you’ll naturally be able to see your brother.”

Yaoying replied coolly, “As long as Li Zhongqian is unharmed, I can stay. But you must let me see him first.”

Li De gestured to the attendant beside him.

The attendant withdrew and returned shortly carrying a sword, showing Yaoying the engraved part of the hilt.

“Li Zhongqian is still alive.”

For now.

Yaoying recognized Li Zhongqian’s sword. She lowered her eyes, drained the remaining wine from her cup, and returned to her seat. Young officials kept approaching, hovering near her seat wanting to converse, but seeing her deep in thought, they dared not disturb her and withdrew.

Only a few officials with notably different accents from the others came before Yaoying, offering her drinks with extreme respect, introducing themselves: “Your Highness, we are from Southern Chu.”

They stated their official positions – all were Southern Chu ministers who had been sent to Chang’an after Southern Chu’s surrender.

Yaoying grew wary, glancing at Li De, thinking he would expose her background right there.

Li De seemed not to notice those surrendered Southern Chu officials, rising to speak with Yang Qian and others, maintaining dignity while remaining approachable. Several young commanders’ faces flushed red with barely contained excitement.

Yaoying didn’t say much to the Southern Chu officials, claiming she couldn’t handle more wine and leaving early.

Li De didn’t stop her, only having someone give her Li Zhongqian’s sword, saying, “The Princess now holds an important position. The Duke of Wei is the Princess’s brother – His Majesty won’t harm the Duke of Wei, but the Princess must also be careful with her words and actions to avoid causing trouble that might harm the Duke of Wei.”

Yaoying understood Li De’s hint. She closed her doors to visitors, declining all invitations to talk, drink tea, offer incense, or view flowers. She stayed in the guesthouse, never stepping beyond its gates.

Li De had people watch Yaoying. After observing for several days and confirming that Tanmoluojia hadn’t accompanied her, that she had no Wang Ting guards with her, and there were no traces of Wang Ting people near Chang’an, he continued having people investigate, ordering immediate reports if any Wang Ting movement was detected.

Only after confirming Yaoying hadn’t secretly arranged to contact anyone did he send her a message: If she wanted to see Li Zhongqian, she should first go to Ci’en Temple. Attached to the message was a dew-catching pouch Li Zhongqian often wore, with paired beasts embroidered by Yaoying herself.

Yaoying took Xie Qing to Ci’en Temple. After offering incense and paying respects to Buddha, she spoke briefly with the abbot, received a second instruction, left the temple, and headed straight for the detached palace outside the city.

Li De had imprisoned Li Zhongqian in the detached palace.

She followed the eunuch through winding corridors, into a narrow, cramped passageway. When the door opened, the man in the corner raised his head, pushing aside the messy hair from his face.

“Elder Brother!”

Yaoying’s heart burned with anxiety. She secretly sighed in relief, quickly running over, raising her hand to strike him. “You…”

She stared at the man for a moment, her expression freezing, cold sweat breaking out on her back.

The man’s features somewhat resembled Li Zhongqian’s.

But he wasn’t Li Zhongqian.

Xie Qing frowned, immediately drawing his sword. Yaoying stood up, quickly retreating from the passageway, raising her head to scan the surroundings.

All exits were heavily guarded by the Imperial Guards, with shadows of men lurking on the walls – ambushers lay in wait.

Yaoying pressed down Xie Qing’s hand, calmly asking, “Where is His Majesty?”

The eunuch smiled slightly, leading her to the Buddha hall, with Imperial Guards holding long swords following closely, not a step behind.

The cold gleam of swords reflected on her face, but her expression remained normal as she gestured for Xie Qing to sheathe his sword.

In the Buddha hall, before the Buddha statue, sweet sandalwood incense filled the air as candles flickered. Li De sat cross-legged, leaning against a cushion, his head wrapped in a headcloth, his face pale and aged.

Yaoying entered the hall. “Your Majesty went to such elaborate lengths just to trap me? If something happens to me in Chang’an, the pacified Western Regions will fall into chaos again. Your Majesty cannot kill me – what use is there in trapping me?”

Li De’s gaze fell on her face. “Without trapping you, how could we draw out Li Zhongqian?”

Yaoying smiled mockingly.

The assassination at Qujiang Pool had been arranged by Li De. He knew her weakness, made people believe Li Zhongqian had attempted a public assassination, lured her to the capital, then used her as bait to draw out Li Zhongqian, using Li Zhongqian to threaten her.

“How was Your Majesty so certain I would fall for the trap?”

Li De gazed at the half-rolled bamboo blinds, saying, “From the moment We provoked Li Zhongqian to return to the capital, every step of your reactions has been within Our expectations. We cut off your communication with Li Zhongqian, deliberately leaked information – unable to find him and desperate to save him, even knowing it was a trap, you would still come.”

“Where is my elder brother?” Yaoying walked to the Buddha statue, throwing an incense cake into the beast-headed bronze censer. “How did you get his sword?”

“When Li Zhongqian returned to Gaochang, Our people were already following him. He was very cautious this time – Our people followed him to the Capital Prefecture. Just as they were about to close the net, he escaped, but they got his sword and personal items. They’ve trapped him in the ward – he’s been hiding for many days, but it’s time for him to show himself.”

Though the Imperial Guards couldn’t catch Li Zhongqian, they had him cornered in the ward. He couldn’t send out messages or receive any information. After Yaoying entered the city, Li De used her important status as a reason to have anyone approaching her residence taken away for questioning, but still couldn’t find any news of Li Zhongqian. Li Zhongqian’s patience was beyond Li De’s expectations.

Now that he had lured Yaoying to the detached palace and would release this information, no matter where Li Zhongqian was hiding, he would eventually show himself.

From the moment Li Zhongqian decided to return to the Central Plains, both siblings would fall into his trap – Li Zhongqian had to return to Chang’an. He couldn’t allow them to grow stronger; as long as he was on the throne, he wouldn’t let them live in peace.

Father and son, ruler and subject – it was a fight to the death, with no other path.

Yaoying sat cross-legged opposite Li De.

Li De looked at her: “Aren’t you afraid We’ll kill you?”

“Everyone in Chang’an knows I came to the detached palace. If Your Majesty kills me just like this, how will you explain it to the Western Army? Your Majesty can keep me under house arrest but dare not kill me.” Yaoying gazed at the lush banana trees in the courtyard as she spoke.

Li De’s lips curved upward as he gestured for attendants to serve tea.

He quite admired Yaoying. She was pragmatic, knew her advantages, and could be both firm and flexible – but unfortunately, like Xie Wuliang, she had too many attachments.

Unlike him, who was cold and ruthless, and thus had no concerns.

Yaoying hadn’t tasted Chang’an tea for a long time. Smelling the familiar tea fragrance, she said, “Your Majesty, if I take my brother back to Gaochang and never set foot in Chang’an again in this life, would Your Majesty let us go?”

Li De said, “Releasing a tiger back to the mountains would lead to endless trouble.”

Yaoying raised her eyes.

The Imperial Guards knelt outside the corridor: “Your Majesty, the news has been released. The inner city is under martial law, the Western Army is under our strict surveillance, and all palace gates are guarded by the Imperial Army. For five days, except for the Imperial Army, no one is allowed to leave their ward without authorization.”

“Five days is enough.” Li De nodded, glancing at Yaoying. “Chang’an has become a dead city. No one can approach the detached palace except for a madman like Li Zhongqian who doesn’t care about his life. Just wait – by tomorrow night at the latest, you’ll see him.”

Yaoying remained silent.

The heat subsided as night fell. The evening breeze rustled the broad banana leaves, bringing waves of coolness. Moonlight flowed, and all was quiet.

Xie Qing had been taken away. Yaoying sat before the Buddha statue, eyes closed in deep thought.

In the silence, sudden panic-stricken shouts erupted. Shadows moved all around as black-clad Imperial guards rushed out from every corner of the empty courtyard, their footsteps like sudden raindrops as they passed through the corridors to surround the Buddha hall.

Yaoying opened her eyes.

Several lanterns approached from afar. Li De, wearing a great cloak, stood in the doorway, his face a sickly pale: “Li Zhongqian will come to rescue you tonight. Come with Us.”

Yaoying gave a cold laugh and rose to follow him.

The detached palace’s elegant pavilions and towers were already engulfed in rolling black smoke. Flames rose everywhere, fire tongues licking the cool moonlit night. Everywhere there were shouts of men and horses, footsteps, curses, and reproaches blending as ash from the great fire drifted through the air.

Imperial guards ran in from different directions to report: “Your Majesty, there are troops to the south!”

“The north is under attack as well!”

“And the east!”

A rain of arrows fell from the sky.

Li De didn’t even furrow his brow, commanding with authority as he led Yaoying up to the drum tower, the highest point, ordering guards to light the courtyard beacons to illuminate above and below the tower.

The burning torches devoured the night. In the spreading black smoke, several groups of troops charged toward the detached palace from three directions, only to be intercepted and slaughtered by the waiting Imperial army.

Li De looked around, listening to the intermittent battle cries in the night wind: “They’re all Han people – why haven’t the Wang Ting people come to save you?”

Yaoying gazed steadily at the occasional glints of silver armor flashing in the darkness, her eyes showing slight mockery: “Did Your Majesty think Wang Ting would interfere?”

Li De indeed thought so. He had posted men at all routes into the capital specifically to guard against Wang Ting people. If even one Wang Ting person appeared at the detached palace tonight, he would use this to question Tanmoluojia and Li Yaoying about their collusion and hidden schemes.

“Your Majesty worries too much. This matter between you and your sons need not involve Wang Ting, lest it damage the alliance between our nations.”

Yaoying’s tone was indifferent.

Li De was silent for a moment: “Yang Qian hasn’t come either. All the Western Army commanders are staying put – aren’t you surprised at all?”

Yaoying smiled: “I guess when I came to the detached palace, Your Majesty informed the Western Army of my background?”

He not only wanted to draw out Li Zhongqian but also intended to frame Wang Ting while eliminating the commanders loyal to her in the Western Army in one stroke.

Li De nodded: “You’re not my real daughter, yet the Western Army would still respect you. But you’re from Southern Chu – Southern Chu still has remnants hiding in the mountains, refusing to submit. Now the empire is unified, and the noble families of Hexi want to return to court and restore their former glory. They don’t want to associate with Southern Chu remnants. Your identity is no longer suitable for leading them.”

“Seventh Sister, the world is such – don’t overestimate people’s hearts.”

Yaoying gave a scornful laugh.

The great fire burned fiercely.