The sound of hoofbeats on the wide street faded gradually into the distance.

Chen Baoxiang watched him go, then made her way alone to the Princess’s residence.

She had barely stepped through the door and started to bow before she was pulled upright and drawn into an embrace.

“I knew you were someone who could be relied on!” Li Bingsheng made no effort to conceal her delight. “Baoxiang — you are this palace’s most precious talent and general. You actually drove back Song Juqing.”

Hua Lingyin also clapped her hands. “The defensive positioning and troop coordination were excellent. A truly extraordinary engagement.”

The other officials and attendants followed with their praises, and no wonder — this was Song Juqing they were talking about. You Shiying had met him seven times and been defeated seven times. And yet Chen Baoxiang, with so few soldiers, had managed to hold the city gate.

“It was mere good fortune.” Chen Baoxiang showed not a trace of pride, and clasped her hands again before Li Bingsheng. “Song Juqing did not bring cavalry today — he will likely make another attempt. I request the honor of being given more soldiers to continue guarding the gate.”

Li Bingsheng smiled and shook her head. “Foolish child — where in this world is there fighting without end? He dared to attack Shangjing today because he had imperial authority behind him. But once the person sitting on that throne is no more, the money that feeds his cavalry will be no more too. So tell me — will he still be coming back?”

Chen Baoxiang stilled.

Li Bingsheng patted her shoulder. “For these next few days, stay by my side. As long as you keep me absolutely safe, I will ensure you wealth and honor for the rest of your life.”

That day had finally come after all.

Chen Baoxiang had assumed the two sides would drag things out for another year or two, yet Song Juqing’s covert assault had moved the timeline forward entirely.

Song Juqing had been repulsed, and the morale on the Grand Princess’s side surged high. When Xu Zhenhe and the others returned from Nanzhou, their fighting spirit was blazing — they cried out one after another for Li Bingsheng to ascend the throne.

Li Bingsheng demurred for a time — the new Emperor had already taken the throne; how could she do the same?

Her subordinates immediately submitted memorials insisting that Li Shu had not ascended through a legitimate succession but had usurped the position, and that she, as the rightful heir, must be the one to eliminate the traitor and restore proper governance.

With words reaching that point, Li Bingsheng had no choice but to don the imperial robes and proceed to the Grand Ancestral Temple.

Yet with an Emperor still on the throne inside the palace, a formal enthronement was being held elsewhere — was that not utterly preposterous?

Li Shu promptly dispatched the Marquis of Loyal Statehood and others to go and suppress them.

And so true warfare finally broke out within Shangjing itself.

Chen Baoxiang guarded Li Bingsheng closely, repelling wave after wave of attacks and assassinations. Each day she watched Li Bingsheng work herself to the point of distraction, alternating between moments of good news and creased-brow worry.

Li Bingsheng would sometimes turn and ask her opinion on this matter or that.

Chen Baoxiang shook her head like a rattle drum: “I only know how to fight — what would I understand of all those twists and turns?”

Li Bingsheng laughed. “You have no ambition at all — you’re not even tempted by the reputation of being both civil and martial.”

Being skilled in both had its appeal — but bringing what one excelled at to its fullest expression was also its own kind of fulfillment. Not everyone needed to be a master of everything.

Chen Baoxiang had never been hard on herself.

But during the lulls between military engagements, the battles being fought with words and ink were just as fierce within the city. Several sharp-penned writers under Li Shu’s command produced one striking composition after another, all working to frame Li Bingsheng’s actions as usurpation.

Hua Lingyin and the other strategists were not to be outdone — long essays and pointed retorts came in swift succession, each striving to uphold Li Bingsheng’s legitimacy to the throne.

The two sides gave no quarter, fanning out their arguments through teahouses and academies across the various prefectures and counties.

At the height of the contest, Zhang Fengqing published an essay titled “On the Tree.” It made no direct reference to current affairs — only spoke of how every great tree has its trunk, and if the trunk grows straight, the tree will rise to the sky; yet if a side branch grows unchecked and seizes the crown, the tree will grow crooked and never flourish.

The blade of his rhetoric was razor-sharp, his choice of words precise and brilliant — and within a single night, the essay had spread widely across every major prefecture and county.

Zhang Zhixu had already earned a considerable reputation for integrity in various regions because of the earlier reforms to the legal codes, and with this essay added to that, the criticism bearing down on Li Shu multiplied several times over.

Under that accumulating pressure, Li Shu had even entertained thoughts of negotiating with Li Bingsheng — promising to abdicate so long as Li Bingsheng granted him a guarantee against execution and a fief far from Shangjing.

But Li Bingsheng paid him no mind at all.

Both the literary and military battles were going her way. Defeating Li Shu was only a matter of time. Li Bingsheng would not compromise in the slightest.

Chen Baoxiang admired her deeply for this — she was true to her word, and yielded to no one.

The blazing heat of summer passed quickly in the standoff between the two sides.

On the first day of autumn, Cheng Huaili sat down across from Li Bingsheng.

Chen Baoxiang had been sent away and could not hear what was being said — but watching from a distance, she saw Cheng Huaili smile at her.

The hand gripping the scabbard of her blade tightened involuntarily.

Cheng Huaili was Li Shu’s final line of defense. Of course he could come to Li Bingsheng to bargain — only now, if she wanted to kill him, she would need to go to considerably more trouble.

How aggravating.

·

At the season’s deepest autumn, Li Bingsheng led her forces into the palace.

Li Shu had nowhere left to retreat to. Two figures robed in yellow stood gazing at each other from a distance.

“I suppose you still want to know how I bought that faithful handmaiden of yours?” Li Shu seemed to know his end had come, yet he wore a perfectly relaxed smile. “Money? Land?”

Li Bingsheng’s face darkened.

That handmaiden had served at her side for ten years. She had thrown herself in front of blades for her, had fought for her with her life, had shared hardships and private confidences with her — and no matter how Li Bingsheng turned it over in her mind, she could not fathom how the one who had poisoned her could have been this woman.

Now, the answer was about to be revealed.

Li Shu’s laughter turned almost delirious. “Neither. I simply captured her beloved. Just a man — a man you never gave a second glance to. Put him to torture once, and your handmaiden was weeping as she agreed.”

“This is exactly why I have always said — you women are ruled by your emotions. You are unfit to inherit the throne!”

Li Bingsheng’s fury broke open.

She crossed the jade steps in several strides, dragged Li Shu down from them, tore away his crown, slashed open his dragon robe, and then drove a sword through his throat.

Blood sprayed out and soaked the hem of her garments.

She bent low and brought her face close to his, smiling faintly. “And yet — what of it? In the end, I am the one who won.”

“You and your children will all go to accompany my children and my dynasty in death.”

The bells of the palace began to ring again, long and distant and resonant.

Chen Baoxiang stood outside the palace gates and let out a long, slow breath.

“The outcome is decided,” she said. “The reckoning comes next.”

Li Bingsheng would not spare those who had backed Li Shu’s enthronement in those earlier years, and even less would she show leniency toward those who had chosen the wrong side in this struggle for the throne.

Hua Lingyin had even drawn up a list of names in advance, waiting only for the imperial seal to be obtained before stamping out the decrees.

“Let’s go — back to watch the show unfold.” She reached out and took hold of his arm.

Zhang Zhixu stood as though his feet had been nailed to the ground. He did not move.

She looked up in puzzlement, and saw that his expression had grown complicated. “I am going to stay at Xun Yuan for a few days.”

“Hm?” Chen Baoxiang raised a brow. “Wasn’t Xun Yuan taken back by the Zhang Family?”

“They only reclaimed what they gave me.” He pressed his lips together. “Xun Yuan, and the shop on East Street — those I earned for myself, and they remain in my name.”

Chen Baoxiang: ?

Wait — she had assumed that when he was driven out he had nothing at all to his name, which was precisely why she had felt so sorry for him and taken him back to live with her. And now it turned out the camel that appeared thin and lean was still bigger than a horse?

She was furious. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?!”