Vermilion Bird Lane was in complete chaos.
Su Jin sat astride her horse at a distance, surveying the scene. The situation was far worse than she had anticipated.
The bustling alley resembled a monstrous beast with its bloody maw wide open, swallowing the passing common people and the soldiers maintaining order. Troublemakers kept charging recklessly inward—some cried out in alarm, some denounced them angrily, some raised their poles in revolt, some struggled desperately to squeeze out of the crowd but couldn’t distinguish which direction offered escape. In the shoving and pushing, who knew if people were being trampled underfoot.
The troublemakers had mixed with the common people, all boiling together into a rotten porridge in this chaotic street. It was already impossible to tell who was who.
The Commander of the Southern City’s Cavalry roared, “Block the roads! Block the damn roads!”
But Vermilion Bird Lane formed a grid pattern with thoroughfares in all directions. Most of his men had been swept involuntarily into the tide of people, and those remaining had to protect the safety of several court officials. Where would he find extra men to block the roads?
Su Jin dismounted and stepped forward, cupping her hands in a bow: “Commander Tan, why is there only one commandery here? Where are the cavalry from the Eastern and Western Cities?”
“Need you ask? Those hot-tempered bastards must be fighting with people somewhere!” Tan Zhaolin cursed.
Su Jin had already heard something of this on her way here.
At present, the entire capital was in complete disorder, with troublemakers everywhere. She had heard that several examination candidates were even causing disturbances outside Chengtian Gate, holding up banners reading “Qiu’s Corruption, North-South Inequality.”
After brief consideration, Su Jin asked again, “How many men can you still command?”
“About a hundred!” As Tan Zhaolin spoke, he turned to glance at her, seeing she was merely a lowly clerk from Yingtian Prefecture. His head immediately ached as he clicked his tongue and muttered, “Why has someone courting death shown up?” Then he pointed to the teahouse behind him and said impatiently, “Get inside and stay there—stop being an eyesore out here!”
The teahouse exterior was heavily guarded. One didn’t need to think hard to know that several court officials were hiding inside.
Just then, a captain stumbled out of the crowd and fell to his knees before Tan Zhaolin with a mournful expression: “Commander, we couldn’t find him…”
Tan Zhaolin grabbed him by the collar, his eyes nearly splitting with rage: “Couldn’t find him?!” The captain was choked by his grip until he couldn’t breathe, his face flushing bright red. Tan Zhaolin shoved him aside, spat, and cursed, “A bunch of useless trash!”
The captain fell face-first into the dirt. Scrambling up and catching his breath, he said, “Commander, should we draw our blades and kill?”
“Draw blades and kill?” Tan Zhaolin was built like a bear—with one raised arm he created a gust of wind that knocked the newly risen captain back to the ground. “Has water gotten into your brain? Never mind whether you can distinguish the troublemakers from the common people—even if you could tell them apart, these troublemakers may be bastards, but do you dare kill them randomly? They’re examination candidates with status. Without an imperial command, if you kill even one, your ten pig brains wouldn’t be enough to compensate!”
Su Jin stepped forward to help the captain up and asked the essential question: “You just mentioned looking for someone. Is there still someone trapped in the crowd?”
Seeing that this person, though a scholarly type, was at least somewhat calmer than the thoroughly enraged Tan Zhaolin, the captain answered truthfully: “Reporting to this official, it’s not that we aren’t searching carefully. It’s just that who has ever seen this newly graduated Third Place Scholar Xu? We only have a portrait to go by, and to us rough soldiers, all you scholars look the same with your refined features.”
Su Jin was stunned for a long moment before asking, “The Third Place Scholar Xu you mention—is his full name Xu Ying, Xu Yuanzhe?”
She had reviewed the registry of tribute scholars—among the eighty-nine candidates, only one was surnamed Xu.
Sure enough, the captain nodded repeatedly: “Yes, yes, that’s the name!”
At noon, the blazing sun hung high overhead. Though late spring days weren’t particularly hot, Su Jin suddenly broke out in a cold sweat across her forehead.
She bowed to Tan Zhaolin again: “Commander Tan, please take eighty of your hundred men and have them guard the two southern exits of Vermilion Bird Lane. Disperse the crowd from there. As long as we prevent the troublemakers from leaving the city through the southern Zhengyang Gate, everything else can be deliberated.”
“You understand nothing!” Tan Zhaolin bellowed. “If I send all the men away, who the hell will rescue people for me? Who the hell will arrest the troublemakers?!”
“Your manpower is already insufficient, yet you still fantasize about controlling a hundred with one, turning decay into miracle?” Su Jin stood with her hands behind her back, fixing her gaze on Tan Zhaolin and rebuking him: “If you cannot make choices, you’ll only end up trying to tend to one thing while losing another—the gains won’t justify the losses!”
Tan Zhaolin found himself momentarily speechless.
For an instant, he seemed to see the aura of military conflict in the depths of Su Jin’s gaze.
These clear, refined eyes that should belong to a scholar harbored burning sparks that could start a prairie fire at the snap of a finger.
“Damn it!” He spat again and pointed at the captain. “You listen to this pretty boy first. Deploy eighty men to guard the two southern lane exits. When those bastards from the Eastern and Western Cavalry arrive, have them send men to escort those weakling officials out of the teahouse.”
The captain asked with a bitter expression, “Then what will you do, Commander?”
Tan Zhaolin ground his teeth: “I’m going to damn well rescue people!” With that, he strode purposefully toward the mass of people.
“Come back!” Su Jin immediately shouted. She turned and walked up to the captain, saying, “Give me your blade.”
The captain blinked: “What?”
Su Jin didn’t waste words with him. She raised her hand, gripped the hilt at his waist, and drew it out in one motion.
The long blade left its sheath, the blade’s edge gleaming like water.
Su Jin cut off a section of her sleeve hem and wrapped the hilt around her wrist. To the dumbfounded Tan Zhaolin, she said, “Do you even recognize the person you’d go rescue?” Then, gripping the blade tightly, she walked toward the chaotic tide of people without looking back, leaving behind one sentence: “You stay. I’ll go.”
Tan Zhaolin stared blankly at Su Jin’s retreating figure and forced out words through clenched teeth: “Damn it, I’ve seen people court death, but never anyone this good at courting death!” He turned back to order the captain: “Why aren’t you sending two men to follow?”
The tide of people was like a swamp or quagmire—once you fell in, you lost all sense of direction.
In a trance, Su Jin felt as if she were back in the calamity of twelve years ago. The sounds of killing around her were like altered musical notes. She gripped a short dagger covered in blood, hidden in a haystack reeking of rotting corpses, isolated and helpless.
Su Jin steadied herself and thought: Since these troublemakers were targeting the newly graduated examination candidates, then Xu Yuanzhe, as the Third Place Scholar, must be trapped at the deepest part of the crowd.
Ordinary people would avoid disturbances—if she moved against the flow of the crowd, she would certainly find Xu Yuanzhe.
Going further in, there were indeed fewer people squeezing outward.
The people ahead had their backs to them, forming a semicircle. Through gaps between people, she could dimly see Xu Yuanzhe half-lying against a wall, his condition unknown.
Su Jin quietly drew in a breath.
The blade’s tip scraped the ground, producing a sharp, piercing sound. Without speaking, Su Jin parted the crowd, walked to Xu Yuanzhe’s side, patted his face, and called, “Yuanzhe, wake up.”
Xu Yuanzhe still retained a trace of consciousness. Opening his eyes groggily and seeing Su Jin, his eye sockets instantly filled with tears as he said hoarsely, “Master, I… it hurts…”
Su Jin nodded slightly and said softly, “I know. Endure it.” With one hand, she lifted his arm over her shoulder to help him stand.
Supporting Xu Yuanzhe, she had only taken a few steps when a fierce gust came from behind—a heavy cudgel struck directly at her calf.
Su Jin cried out in pain. Her knees buckled and she pitched forward onto the ground. Before she could react, two more cudgels swept across her back. The intense pain nearly displaced her internal organs, and a fishy sweetness surged up her throat, causing her to cough up a large mouthful of blood.
A pair of black official boots appeared before her eyes. A voice above her head sneered, “Who did I think it was? Just a petty eighth-rank clerk. Even the Son of Heaven himself doesn’t meddle in this business, yet you want to interfere—aren’t you afraid of losing your little life?”
As he spoke, he raised his foot and stepped on Su Jin’s hand holding the blade. Laughter erupted around them.
Su Jin felt as though the bones in her hand were about to break, yet beneath this intense pain, her mind became extraordinarily clear.
She raised her head and asked flatly, “Even the Son of Heaven himself doesn’t meddle? What do you mean by that?”
The person before her wore an off-white shirt. Hearing this question, a flash of panic crossed his eyes. He ground his teeth and said, “Kill him!”
However, the moment his words fell, Su Jin’s hand supporting Xu Yuanzhe released. In a flash of lightning, she drew a dagger from her boot and plunged it into the off-white shirt’s left leg.
The man in off-white cried out in pain, all force in his leg vanishing. Ignoring the pain in her hand, Su Jin decisively grabbed the long blade and swung it forward with all her might.
She heard the sound of flesh splitting open. Warm blood splattered onto her face and body.
She didn’t know whether this man in off-white was dead or not.
Her field of vision was filled with blurred red. In her daze, Su Jin oddly recalled something irrelevant—wasn’t the Ministry of Justice supposed to send her a death row prisoner to kill as a warning to others? Now she had learned without instruction. Where was the prisoner?
Su Jin staggered to her feet, her eyes filled with murderous intent, looking exactly like a desperate criminal: “Didn’t you say you’d kill me? Either come forward or get lost. Otherwise, whoever takes another step forward, this official will cut them down!”
By the hour of the monkey, the cavalry from the Eastern and Western Cities finally converged at Vermilion Bird Lane.
The teahouse behind Tan Zhaolin opened in response. Director Jiang from the Ministry of Rites stepped forward and performed a grand bow to Tan Zhaolin, saying, “Today we owe much to Commander Tan’s protection. Your great kindness and virtue will be deeply remembered and never forgotten.”
Tan Zhaolin replied, “Director Jiang is too kind. This is precisely my duty.”
Director Jiang continued, “May I ask the Commander—did Clerk Su from the capital prefecture come by earlier?”
Tan Zhaolin confirmed it.
Director Jiang looked around and asked, “Then where is he now?”
Tan Zhaolin sighed: “That’s exactly what I… what I’m most worried about right now. Clerk Su went into Vermilion Bird Lane to search for someone. It’s been nearly two hours and he still hasn’t emerged.”
Director Jiang was startled: “Still hasn’t emerged?” He paced back and forth with his hands behind his back, murmuring, “This is bad, very bad.”
Seeing his reaction, Tan Zhaolin found it incomprehensible: “What—does this Clerk Su have some significant background?”
Just then, at the far end of the long street, golden horns suddenly sounded in unison and horse hooves shook the earth. A group of military officers rode forward on horseback, followed by several thousand soldiers, all wearing phoenix-winged helmets and chain mail armor.
They were dressed as the Imperial Guards.
Tan Zhaolin couldn’t quite grasp the situation, but Director Jiang, recognizing the two leading figures, immediately pulled Tan Zhaolin down to kneel, prostrating himself and calling out loudly: “This humble official pays respects to Lord Liu and to the Left General.”
Liu Chaoming maintained a cold expression and said nothing.
Zuo Qian raised his hand in a gesture of assistance to the two men but made no sound. Instead, he turned and commanded: “All soldiers, listen to orders! Form ranks!”
The solemn formation of Imperial Guards suddenly divided to both sides, and horse hooves sounded again from the far end of the long street.
The rider’s purple robes billowed. His eyes were like stars and moon, brilliantly bright. Reaching the assembled group, he reined in his horse and whip. The fine steed raised its front hooves high, kicking up clouds of dust.
Zuo Qian knelt on one knee and called out loudly: “Paying respects to the Thirteenth Prince!”
In an instant, the soldiers received their command and knelt in unison, their voices rising like mountains and seas: “Paying respects to the Thirteenth Prince!”
—
Author’s Note: 1. Zuo Qian: Commander of the Imperial Guards, third rank (Imperial Guards: one of the Twelve Guards, part of the personal army).
2. Tan Zhaolin: Commander of the Southern City’s Cavalry, sixth rank (In short, the captain of the city patrol’s southern division).