Eight days earlier.

When Ming Huashang’s peculiar message arrived, Ren Yao had not given it much thought. Ming Huashang and Li Huazhang had spent the better part of half a year at Shanyang Palace, and their experience of Chang’an’s situation was not deep — but in Ren Yao’s eyes, not a single day in Chang’an during this period had been peaceful.

After the Great Emperor’s abdication, the Emperor grew suspicious of Princess Taiping and Prince Xiang. Empress Wei aggressively expanded her own power, allowing Prince Liang and his son to place their own people throughout the court. Princess Anle spent her days scheming to be named Crown Princess, and clashed with the Crown Prince at every turn. It was only because Princess Taiping and Prince Xiang gave ground time and again that matters had not exploded into the open.

Yet Princess Taiping and Prince Xiang were the architects of the Shenlong Coup — who among them would willingly be trampled underfoot by a handful of youngsters? Chang’an now appeared to be filled with loyalty and universal allegiance, with tributary nations paying court — but beneath the surface, treacherous undercurrents had long since been running.

After the Shenlong Coup, Ren Yao had originally hoped to follow Li Huazhang and achieve some significant merit, so as to appease the spirits of her father and elder brother, and at the same time prove to those collateral branches of the Ren family that even as a woman, she was perfectly capable of bringing honor to the family name. But, as the saying goes, man proposes and heaven disposes. Li Huazhang had indeed earned merit — only the merit had been so great that it aroused the Emperor’s suspicion of someone too powerful to control. Even Ren Yao, as one of his followers, had suffered accordingly. Forget advancement; there was barely anyone who came to inquire after her.

Ren Yao continued in her duties — patrols and rotations — day after day, spring fading into autumn. Gradually, Ren Yao came to understand what her grandmother had told her: being an official was not simply a matter of practicing martial arts. No matter how well she trained with her spear, it was of no use in the world of officialdom.

The real world of officials was as far removed from the life of glory and battlefield valor she had imagined as could be. Even though she had earned merit repeatedly, been granted a marquisate in exceptional recognition — she was still nothing more than a small cog in the machinery of Chang’an.

Fortunately, she still had Jiang Ling to banter with. Jiang Ling had entered the official world at his father’s arrangement and was entirely indifferent to advancement or recognition. Now that he was passed over for favor, he could not have cared less — he still went about laughing and calling on friends, eating and drinking. With someone around who was so cheerfully empty-headed and amusing, Ren Yao gradually grew accustomed to the dull, hard life of the Imperial Guard, and even began to feel that passing her days this way was not so bad.

Today Marquis Jiang’an’s household was hosting a banquet. During the period of mourning for the Zetian Empress, feasting and drinking on a grand scale was not appropriate, but it happened to be the Marquis’s birthday, so the Jiang household still prepared a small, informal dinner, inviting only close families. Jiang Ling had taken leave early and repeatedly urged Ren Yao that she absolutely must come to the Jiang household that evening. Ren Yao had not given a firm answer, but once her patrol was over, she immediately gathered her things and planned to go home first, change her clothes, and then go to Marquis Jiang’an’s residence.

After all, it was Jiang Ling’s father’s birthday — it would be disrespectful to show up in her Imperial Guard uniform.

Ren Yao was in a hurry to leave and took a shortcut out through the northern court. As she passed by a wall, she happened to overhear someone speaking on the other side.

Through the sound of the wind, the other person’s voice came through in muffled fragments, difficult to make out clearly. Ren Yao vaguely recognized the voice of the Commander-in-Chief of the Left Imperial Guard — their direct superior — and instinctively stopped in her tracks.

The voice on the other side of the wall drifted to her in broken snatches: “…Prince Liang and his son abusing their power, throwing the inner court into disorder — no different from the Zhang brothers. The Crown Prince intends to execute Empress Wei, Princess Anle, Shangguan Wan’er, and others, to restore proper order to the court. In the Shenlong era, Prince Yong also succeeded by catching his enemy off guard, forcing the Zetian Empress to abdicate. If Prince Yong could do it, the Crown Prince has even greater legitimate claim — how could he fail? The two of us will respond to the Crown Prince’s call at the Hour of the Dog, lead troops through Xuanwu Gate — when it is accomplished, we shall be richly rewarded.”

A second voice replied, sounding somewhat hesitant: “But… this is treason. One misstep and it’s a capital offense…”

“What treason? We are acting on the Crown Prince’s decree, entering the palace to protect His Majesty. What great undertaking can be accomplished by the timid and overcautious? The Crown Prince is in need of capable men right now — if we succeed, marquisates and high office await us without limit!”

The remaining words dropped in volume and became inaudible. Ren Yao was severely shaken. She swept a glance around her surroundings, saw no one had noticed her, and quickly retreated with lightened steps.

Once the initial shock passed, Ren Yao’s mind cooled rapidly, and she realized with a mixture of recklessness and cold lucidity: this was not treason — this was opportunity for merit.

Given Princess Anle’s arrogance, it would have been a miracle if the Crown Prince had endured it this long. She simply had not anticipated that the Crown Prince would choose to act at this particular moment.

It appeared the Crown Prince intended to follow Li Huazhang’s approach: win over the high-ranking officers of the Imperial Guard, stage a coup, and make a surprise assault on Xuanwu Gate. Only Li Huazhang’s methods had been far more covert and precise. The Crown Prince had only come to recruit the Imperial Guard commanders on the very day of the revolt — that seemed rather rushed.

Still, word had it that Princess Anle was lobbying the Emperor ever more frequently to depose the Crown Prince and establish her as Crown Princess. A few days prior, Empress Wei had even suggested that since the Zetian Empress had been a woman, the person conducting the rites of mourning should also be a woman, and that Princess Anle should preside over the Zetian Empress’s memorial ceremonies and the like. The Emperor had not responded, but if Princess Anle were genuinely allowed to preside over the memorial rites before all the regional military governors and foreign envoys — how was that any different from deposing the Crown Prince and establishing a Crown Princess?

That the Crown Prince had grown anxious and wished to strike first was entirely understandable.

Ren Yao left the northern court and, without even thinking about the banquet at Marquis Jiang’an’s residence, ran straight toward the Prince of Yong’s mansion. But when she arrived at the gate and explained again and again that she had urgent business to discuss with the Prince of Yong, the doormen of the Prince of Yong’s residence refused to let her in.

Left with no options, Ren Yao could only leave a message for Ming Huashang and Li Huazhang and depart with great reluctance. She stood in the street and looked at the passing crowds, feeling utterly at a loss.

Li Huazhang and Ming Huashang would not see her. With something this serious, was there anyone else she could consult?

Go home and tell her grandmother? Her grandmother would certainly tell her to mind her own business and stay out of trouble. To know about a palace coup and do nothing — Ren Yao could not accept that. Go find Xie Jichuan? That fox never said a word of truth; she did not trust him. Or go and tip off Prince Xiang or Princess Taiping?

Ren Yao had no stomach for being an informer. Besides, without Li Huazhang’s help, she had no way of seeing Princess Taiping or Prince Xiang in person. Going into the palace to tell the Emperor and Empress was not advisable either — after all, this was the reigning Crown Prince. Without evidence, how could she dare to accuse the Crown Prince of treason?

Ren Yao was torn between her options. At that moment, a certain person intruded unbidden into her mind. The moment she realized who she was thinking of, Ren Yao was appalled at herself.

What was she doing? She had been furious all her life at the fact that men were born with the right of inheritance while women could only marry — and so from childhood she had trained relentlessly in martial arts, determined to prove she was no inferior to any man. She had finally become a Marquis, so how could she debase herself and go running to a man for advice the moment she faced a problem?

She was Marquis Pingnan. She was the sole pillar of the Ren family. She would never willingly be a canary in a gilded cage the way a boudoir girl would be; in this lifetime she would absolutely never marry or have children, much less obey a man’s word.

Ren Yao set her teeth and drove Jiang Ling’s face from her mind. With her back to Marquis Jiang’an’s residence, she walked toward the palace city without a backward glance.

Ren Yao returned to the northern court and traded shifts with a colleague, going to stand guard at the palace gate through the night. This was a common arrangement in the military — whenever someone had plans, they would swap shifts with a colleague. The other person, hearing that Ren Yao was willing to take the night watch, was of course delighted and agreed without hesitation.

Ren Yao took up her weapon in silence and went to keep watch at the palace gate. Before she left, she looked at the Commander-in-Chief of the Left Imperial Guard tallying his men in the garrison ground — and saw in him nothing but ready-made merit just waiting to be claimed.

Jiang Ling was the son of Marquis Jiang’an; from the moment of his birth, his father had paved his road for him. But she was different. She had sacrificed so much to get this far. She had no one to fall back on, no choice but to win the trust of those in power and preserve Marquis Pingnan’s household.

Perhaps the Crown Prince had looked at how Li Huazhang attacked through Xuanwu Gate and forced the Zetian Empress to abdicate, and thought: if he could do it, so could I. It was precisely for this reason that Ren Yao was certain the Crown Prince would fail. The Crown Prince had not even discovered the existence of Xuan Xiaowei, and yet he had the audacity to emulate a palace coup. Li Huazhang had always been unwavering in his support for the Emperor’s ascension, and even when the Emperor grew suspicious of him, he had never once entertained any thought of uprising. Therefore, the Emperor Li Xian was certain to keep his throne for a long time.

The victor was already determined. Whose side she should take was beyond doubt. Ren Yao silently offered her apologies to Li Huazhang and Ming Huashang — it was not that she was being disloyal; she had given them advance warning, only they had refused to see her. Li Huazhang held the title of Prince of Yong; he would always have a way to get by. But she was different — behind her stood Marquis Pingnan’s household, and she could not fall back. She had to earn merit. Li Huazhang and the Emperor were family; they surely would not mind her currying favor with the Emperor and Empress Wei.

She had no choice.

Ren Yao went through the motions of her regular patrol, found her opportunity to arm herself from head to foot with hidden weapons, and silently waited for the Hour of the Dog to arrive. Winter nights fell quickly — the sky turned black and impenetrable, with only sparse stars scattered above. In some houses people were quarreling; in others, people were worrying about where tomorrow’s food would come from; in still others, music and wine and revelry rang through the night.

Ren Yao deliberately kept her mind from straying to what Marquis Jiang’an’s residence and Jiang Ling might be doing at this moment. The Crown Prince’s target was the palace; he would not strike elsewhere. As long as she resolved the Crown Prince’s coup, she would earn merit, Jiang Ling could celebrate his father’s birthday safely and without incident, her grandmother could sleep soundly through the night without alarm, and Li Huazhang and Ming Huashang could go on living their life of two in peace. No one’s interests would be harmed; everything would be for the best.

Time passed moment by moment. Ren Yao could not help stealing another glance at the hour, her expression puzzled.

They had agreed the coup would begin at the Hour of the Dog. By now the Hour of the Dog was already two quarters past — why had no one appeared?

Perhaps they had sensed that the matter was exposed and cancelled the plan? Ren Yao pressed her lips together, feeling both adrift and unwilling to accept it.

Was life such that the harder one sought something, the more it would elude you? She had wanted so badly to earn merit, had strained with every effort to prove she could support the Ren family — and every time, it seemed to collapse just one step short of success. Just as Ren Yao was sinking into gloom, she suddenly heard the sound of commotion rising not far away.

Ren Yao’s focus sharpened. She snapped her head up and saw a cluster of dark figures, surrounding one person in their midst, surging toward Xuanwu Gate. Stars and torches glittered among them, and Ren Yao could even make out blood not yet dry on the tips of blades. Ren Yao’s heart lurched violently. Whose blood was that?

The Crown Prince was supposed to be staging a palace coup — so why had he arrived so late, and taken a detour on the way to apparently kill someone?

The Imperial Guards at the palace gate sensed something was wrong; their commanding officer immediately ordered them into formation, and all soldiers gathered to stand guard before Xuanwu Gate. Ren Yao blended into the ranks of the gatekeeping soldiers, listening to the Crown Prince demanding with imposing authority that they lay down their weapons, and quietly assessed the Crown Prince’s numbers.

Unlike the painstakingly planned coup Li Huazhang had once carried out, the Crown Prince had brought many people — but they were far too disorganized. Everyone was crowded together with no order or formation. Soldiers were valuable for their quality, not their quantity, and in a moment like this, having too many undisciplined troops could well be a liability.

The Crown Prince’s forces consisted of Imperial Guards, and so did the garrison at the gate. Both sides recognized familiar faces in the opposing camp and hesitated. The general guarding the gate heard the Crown Prince claim he was acting on an imperial decree, and his resolve began to waver. Then Ren Yao abruptly let out a thunderous shout: “We are the Son of Heaven’s own soldiers, and we answer only to His Majesty’s command! The Crown Prince says he acts on His Majesty’s decree — but it is dark now. Who can say for certain whether this is truly an imperial decree? If the Crown Prince truly has urgent business, perhaps he should return to the Eastern Palace for now and appear before His Majesty in person tomorrow morning. It is the rule that the palace gates may not be opened before the morning drum — Your Highness the Crown Prince, please forgive me, but I cannot let you pass.”

Ren Yao was resolute and her voice rang out clearly; the Imperial Guards at the gate were emboldened and refused to give an inch. The Crown Prince saw the situation developing differently from what he had imagined and began to panic, uncertain how to proceed. While the two sides were locked in this standoff, Taiji Palace had already been roused. The Emperor and Empress Wei, supported by attendant eunuchs, mounted the top of Xuanwu Gate. The Emperor looked at the spectacle assembled below and there was nothing left he did not understand. He bellowed in fury: “You unfilial wretch — what do you think you are doing?”

Seeing that the audience had arrived, Ren Yao knew the moment to earn merit had come. She charged headlong into the Crown Prince’s formation and roared: “The Crown Prince has staged a coup! Seize the traitor — protect His Majesty and the Empress!”

From atop the city wall, the Emperor and Empress Wei saw one figure stand out with extraordinary valor, charging fearlessly into the rebel force, her silver spear sweeping in fierce, powerful arcs. The Crown Prince had been nothing but a son born of a concubine who had stumbled into the position of Crown Prince by a stroke of luck — he had no experience governing and had counted entirely on hatred and wishful thinking to launch this coup. He did not know how to manage people and he did not know how to manage events. When someone charged into his formation, he simply lost his nerve.

The Crown Prince failed to steady his men’s hearts in time; the soldiers who had been incited into taking part in the coup quickly fell into confusion, and within moments his force had dissolved into a rout. Having measured the Crown Prince against Li Huazhang all along, Ren Yao found when they actually clashed that the Crown Prince fell far short of Li Huazhang in every way. Her heart settled with assurance, and she pressed forward on the heels of victory, letting out a great battle cry as she gave pursuit to the fleeing remnants.

·

Jiang Ling had today intended to formally introduce Ren Yao to his father and stepmother, and for this purpose he had changed into fresh clothes and taken care to make himself presentable. But he waited and waited at the house, and Ren Yao never appeared.

Jiang Ling was deeply disappointed. But he quickly reasoned with himself — perhaps she had been exhausted after her patrol and had gone straight home to rest. After all, in this bitter cold, the Imperial Guards had to patrol the entire city; it must have been punishing work. Besides, his father was right here at home; if he postponed the introduction to another day, that was fine too — he could not ask her to wear herself out.

Jiang Ling pressed down his disappointment and returned to the banquet table, listening to his stepmother and younger brother offer birthday wishes to his father. Marquis Jiang’an laughed heartily. His eyes swept over Jiang Ling, and he asked: “Jiang Ling, that surprise you said you had prepared for your father — where is it now?”

Jiang Ling started slightly, then smiled. “Father, I’m not quite ready yet. Let me wait for another day.”

The Marquis’s expression visibly darkened. The Marquis’s second wife smiled graciously. “My lord, the Young Master’s thoughtfulness alone is enough — why press him further? Er’lang, bring that birthday ode you wrote for your father.”

A young boy held up the characters he had written himself and in his childish voice wished Marquis Jiang’an an abundance of blessings and longevity. The Marquis looked at his clever and well-behaved young son and quickly brightened, lifting the boy onto his knee with a laugh. “Er’lang writes so beautifully — what a diligent and studious young man, nothing like his good-for-nothing elder brother.”

Jiang Ling’s smile stiffened slightly. He lowered his eyes and drank his wine, acting as though he had not heard his father’s offhand remark. At that moment, the steward came rushing in from outside and whispered something into the Marquis’s ear.

Jiang Ling had learned lip-reading in Xuan Xiaowei, and deciphered the message almost simultaneously: the Crown Prince had led the Left Golden Guard and the Left and Right Imperial Guards in a coup, intending to storm the palace. However, in the middle of advancing toward Xuanwu Gate, the Crown Prince had remembered that Princess Anle had once addressed him as a slave — he had turned aside to first go to Prince Liang’s residence to kill Princess Anle and settle the grudge. But as it happened, Princess Anle was staying in the palace that night and had narrowly escaped by luck. Prince Liang and his son — that is, Princess Anle’s father-in-law and husband — had not been able to flee in time and were hacked to death in the chaos.

Jiang Ling let out a silent exclamation. He was not entirely sure what to make of it. The Emperor’s household was truly a case of birds of a feather — the Emperor had suffered misfortune for half his life and still had not grown wiser; the children he produced were each more foolish than the last, yet every one of them had an inflated opinion of themselves. One was tirelessly ambitious to be named Crown Princess; the other, despite being on the verge of staging a coup, had somehow still managed to take a detour midway to kill a personal enemy first and vent a private grudge.

Hearing that the Crown Prince had deviated from his route, Jiang Ling instantly knew this venture was doomed to fail. The Marquis clearly shared that assessment — he had no regard for the Crown Prince whatsoever. He ordered the banquet tables cleared and sent servants out continuously to gather news, showing none of the panic one might expect from someone living through a coup.

What was there to panic about? With the remaining sons the Emperor had left, there was simply no basis for comparison with Princess Taiping — the more the father and sons tore each other apart, the better it was for Princess Taiping. Better to just wait. Marquis Jiang’an would have been delighted to see the Crown Prince kill Princess Anle, Empress Wei in a fury killing the Crown Prince, and then ideally a few more imperial sons dragged down with him.

A woman of Empress Wei’s caliber, fancying herself a successor to the Zetian Empress — she hadn’t looked to see whether she had the fate for it.

The birthday’s easy pleasures were gone, but the Jiang’an Marquis household was not particularly tense either. Jiang Ling waited in idle boredom for the final outcome to emerge from outside. Yet he could never have anticipated that from within this story he was watching as entertainment, he would hear her name.

“Ren Yao?” Jiang Ling shot to his feet, eyes wide with disbelief. “It wasn’t even her rotation yesterday — how did she end up running straight into the Crown Prince’s coup?”