A half-crescent moon hung askew in the night sky as the north wind howled, it’s cold piercing to the bone. From the endless expanse of wild graves and dense woods came the faint sounds of wailing and moaning from the spirits of palace servants through the ages. Ghostly green fires occasionally flickered up, outlining the dark shadows of countless grave mounds, as if the gates of the netherworld might open for them at any moment.
The Seventeenth Princess finally broke down crying, leaning her head against her brother’s chest.
Li Yuangui sighed. For a twelve-year-old girl to have held back until now was already very good. He had no other choice but to tighten his arm around his sister’s shoulders, gently patting her back, silently hoping that her soft sobbing would be drowned out by the night wind and not attract their searchers.
He had ridden with his sister among the grave mounds for about the time it took to eat a meal, leaving Wangsheng Temple far behind until it was no longer visible. Then they dismounted, and he let the horse run off wherever it pleased while he led his sister on foot in the opposite direction, taking care to leave as few footprints as possible. It was completely dark now, and with the Palace Servants’ Slope being so vast with many places to hide, he felt Yin Tuo’s dozen or so men wouldn’t be able to find them.
When his Seventeenth Sister became too tired to walk further, he chose a larger grave mound with a headstone and sat down with the young girl in a spot sheltered from the wind, the siblings huddling together for warmth. He had flint in his leather pouch at his waist, and there were dried leaves and grass all around, but he naturally didn’t dare light a fire. Not long after abandoning the horse, he had faintly heard one or two shouts coming from the direction of Wangsheng Temple—he guessed Yin Tuo, unwilling to abandon his mission, had broken free from Yang Xinzhi’s blockade and pursued them into the Palace Servants’ Slope.
“Brother, where are we going?” his Seventeenth Sister asked, gradually stopping her tears and sniffling against his chest. Li Yuangui opened his mouth to answer but could only let out another sigh.
Where could they go? Returning to Daan Palace would be walking into a trap—the entire imperial garden was under the control and oppression of the Yin siblings who used the Emperor’s authority to command others… Sneak back to Lizheng Hall? Even if they could find a way into the inner palace chambers, how would they report today’s events to Empress Changsun? “Your Highness, your eldest legitimate son, the current Crown Prince, is conspiring with an evil consort to harm your sister-in-law—please put family ties aside for justice and help us siblings?”
“How have you been… in Lizheng Hall?” Li Yuangui looked down and asked his sister. The young girl nodded between sobs:
“It’s alright… the Empress and Sixth Sister, Ninth Brother, and Sixteenth Sister are all very nice… no one makes me kneel or go hungry or ‘cool down’… sob…”
At the mention of her previous treatment by Consort Yin at Daan Hall, the young girl couldn’t help but start crying again. Li Yuangui’s heart ached as he patted her shoulders and back, thinking that even if both siblings perished here among the wild graves and long grass to join their mother, he would never again hand his Seventeenth Sister over to that poisonous woman’s torments… or let her be sent thousands of miles away to a political marriage in some desolate frontier.
“I miss Mother… and you…” Seventeenth Sister whispered between sobs, “I want to go home… Mother’s gone, Brother, will you take me home…”
We don’t have a home anymore, silly child. Li Yuangui thought silently. Perhaps we never had a real home, because we never had a real father.
Whether it was that quiet side hall in the inner palace of their childhood, that cramped wing room after moving up to Daan Palace, or when he established his residence in the Seventeen Princes’ Court after moving out at age twelve—it had always been just their mother looking after the two siblings. In Li Yuangui’s memory, their father—that distant elderly figure—had appeared in their residence only a handful of times. He only knew rationally that the “Emperor Emeritus” on the throne, that white-bearded old man who always listened to and nodded in agreement with Consort Yi De’s whispers, was his and his sister’s birth father, the source of all their glory and wealth. Nothing more.
“We won’t go back to Lizheng Hall,” Li Yuangui heard himself quietly promise his sister. “We’ll leave the palace and find a home. I’ll stay and take care of you.”
Empress Changsun and the children she raised might be kind and gentle enough to his Seventeenth Sister, but as long as his only living relative remained caged within the palace, she would be nothing more than a token to be measured and calculated for marriage alliances. On her deathbed, their mother had entrusted him with only one thing: “Take good care of your sister.” He didn’t understand exactly what constituted “taking good care,” but at least, his Seventeenth Sister shouldn’t be crying like this.
To the south lay Daan Palace; to the west, after a long walk, was the Western Inner Garden and Xuanwu Gate; to the east and north, if they could break through the weak garrison defenses, the two of them could escape the imperial garden’s bounds and gain temporary true freedom. By the White Canal on the north bank of the Wei River was a stretch of rich farmland belonging to the thirty thousand Taiyuan Guard troops, which included many noble estates and fiefs of the imperial clan. Perhaps they could go there first, find a place to stay, and live in seclusion in the countryside…
“What a fantasy!”
A crisp female voice suddenly cut through his thoughts, full of mockery, each word crystal clear: “Do you know how to farm? Can Seventeenth Aunt weave? Even if you both were willing to learn, where would you get the fields, livestock, hoes, and seeds? Do you have a farming household registration? Can you build houses and raise beams? Or have you made thorough preparations, with plenty of gold and silver to buy an estate and servants, and arrangements with local officials?”
Li Yuangui closed his eyes briefly. Chai Yinglu was right, of course—he had made no preparations, only scrambling to make plans at the last minute, all pointless.
An unusual sound carried on the night wind. Before Li Yuangui could react, still lost in his thoughts, his little sister suddenly began trembling in his arms:
“Dogs… Brother… dogs…”
It was the sound of barking—Li Yuangui heard it too. Damn it all…
“Once… I ran away from Daan Hall… to the back mountain… that Yin brought a pack of dogs to chase me… sob…”
The young girl whispered, about to cry again. Li Yuangui pressed his finger to her lips, signaling her to stay quiet, while he frantically tried to think. Yin Tuo must have seen the two-horse carriage stopped at the entrance to the burial ground and guessed that the Li siblings would hide in the graveyard, so he had sent someone to Daan Palace to bring hunting hounds to track their scent. This was trouble.
The barking and human voices grew clearer. Li Yuangui raised himself slightly to look—in the distance, about a dozen torches were moving between the grave mounds, getting closer and closer. The hounds’ keen noses made finding them only a matter of time.
Crossing the river would wash away their scent, but they were still far from the Wei River, and they didn’t have enough time or strength to run there—his frail little sister especially couldn’t risk the cold night waters.
But they couldn’t just sit here waiting to be caught either.
Li Yuangui gritted his teeth, feeling the hilt of his sword while searching around to pick up several suitably sized stones. If only he had a bow and arrows now. Perhaps he could first sneak over and stab an archer in the dark, then steal their bow to use.
“Brother…”
Seventeenth Sister’s voice trembled, carrying traces of tears. Li Yuangui turned back to look at his sister; under the dim starlight and moonlight, the young girl’s hair was disheveled and her face was pale, resembling a wandering ghost that had drifted out from a grave.
“Stay quiet, hide well, keep yourself wrapped up tight, and don’t come out no matter who calls,” he knelt on one knee to instruct his sister, trying his best to make his voice sound firm and reliable. “I will come back to find you.”
The twelve-year-old girl just stared at him with wide eyes full of pleading, as if wanting to devour her brother with her gaze. She neither cried nor clung to him to prevent his departure. She seemed already accustomed to the departure of loved ones, knowing that nothing she did could stop it.
Li Yuangui hardened his heart and stood up, not daring to look at his sister again, as he crouched and moved stealthily between the weed-covered burial mounds. He headed toward the direction of torches and barking dogs, but couldn’t move straight toward the searchers, instead having to circle to try to lead them in the opposite direction.
The wind was stronger than earlier in the night, howling past his ears like sharp knives. The fifteen-year-old young prince crept through the tall grass and shrubs, careful to lighten his footsteps, minimizing the sound of crushed stalks. Several times he thought he heard footsteps and rustling sounds that weren’t his own, but couldn’t see anyone, finally concluding it was either his imagination or foxes and hares moving through the grass.
He could only focus all his attention on dealing with Yin Ata’s gang of mortal villains; if there were evil spirits from the netherworld about, then he would leave it to fate. He asked himself whether he and his sister had done anything to trouble their conscience, and decided it wouldn’t matter even if they were dragged before any judge of the underworld.
A dozen or so torches lingered for quite a while in the central area of the burial grounds at Palace Personnel Slope. There was a jumble of voices, delayed by something unknown, but they hadn’t continued pressing toward where Seventeenth Sister was hiding. Li Yuangui circled in another direction, quietly approaching the search party, and discovered that besides adding three or four hunting dogs, they had also increased their numbers – now about thirty people were searching this burial ground.
Without dog noses leading the way, thirty people searching such a large area of scattered mounds at night was insufficient. Li Yuangui hid behind a tree, staring at the slender hounds sniffing the ground with twitching noses in the torchlight, estimating whether the stones in his hand could kill them if he threw them at their heads – it would be very difficult.
If only he had a bow and arrows.
The large slender hound he was watching suddenly raised its head, sniffing the air against the wind direction, and then its dog eyes turned to glare toward where Li Yuangui was hiding behind the tree, opening its long mouth to bark loudly. Li Yuangui cursed inwardly, gripping the stone tightly and drawing back his arm, preparing to throw it at the dog.
Just then, from not far in front of him came another series of dog barks, much more fierce and agitated, as if they were fighting with someone.
The search party had all turned their attention toward where Li Yuangui was hiding behind the tree, but when the commotion started, they quickly turned their heads that way. Yin Ata’s drake-like voice called out loudly “What’s happening?” Before his voice fell, a man’s scream came through.
Could it be that Yang Xinzhi and that group of Eastern Palace guards hadn’t been completely defeated and had also pursued into Palace Personnel Slope? Li Yuangui felt both shocked and delighted, lowering his hand holding the stone, watching the search party turn in direction and rush toward where the screams came from, holding their torches. When most people had left, he got up and quietly followed.
The shouts and sounds of fighting continued, with at least three to five people engaged in battle. This was within expectations, but when a distinctly female cry rang out with a “dang” sound, Li Yuangui’s whole body shuddered.
The woman screamed again. This time it was closer, and Li Yuangui felt slightly relieved – this wasn’t the thin, childish cry of his Seventeenth Sister. The woman calling out should be older and more mature, but… why would there be other women in this desolate burial ground on a cold night?
His temples throbbed suddenly, and Li Yuangui stopped, gasping in shock. The shouts coming from ahead confirmed his guess:
“…it’s the Crown Princess…”
Crown Princess Su had ridden another carriage horse, and for some unknown reason hadn’t been able to escape Palace Personnel Slope, still lingering among these burial mounds. Her scent was also on the carriage, and she had used that vehicle more times, making her scent stronger. The slender hound Yin Ata brought had probably mainly followed her scent here… Why was Lady Su still at Palace Personnel Slope? Had she lost her way?
An ice-cold serpent seemed to crawl up Li Yuangui’s back, winding its way up his spine. The search party of nearly thirty people holding torches was slowly gathering not far ahead, the fighting and screaming had stopped. He should have stood up to try to see more clearly, but instinctively he crouched down low to the ground.
An owl’s cry rang out, then he heard the sudden sound of wind.
No, not wind. This sound was also familiar to him; he had often accompanied his father the Emperor Emeritus and his imperial brother on hunts in the imperial preserves. When the guards drove groups of wild beasts into the encirclement, and the density became suitable in the emperor’s judgment, at his command, the noble hunting companions and imperial guards would vibrate their bowstrings, and an arrow rain would burst in the air, followed by the pitiful cries and screams of deer, roe deer, and wild goats within the encirclement…
Just like the sounds now coming from the search party of nearly thirty people before his eyes.
The flames fell like star rain. Suddenly attacked by arrows shot from the darkness, this group of Great Peace Palace guards who had lit themselves up as targets with their torches had no way to defend themselves. Li Yuangui estimated that the first volley alone took out more than half of them. The guards who luckily escaped the first wave threw away their torches; the clever ones fell to the ground playing dead, while the slower ones still held their swords looking around for the archers’ positions, shouting “Who goes there?” Subsequently, the second wave of arrows arrived.
Li Yuangui lay on the ground, silently listening and estimating. He figured there were about a dozen or so people shooting arrows from hiding – not very many, but they were positioned in a semicircle, covering a considerable area. Most importantly, with the advantage of darkness over light and the element of surprise in their ambush, almost every arrow found its mark. After two volleys, few of the Great Peace Palace guards Yin Ata had brought would remain uninjured.
Who were these people lying in ambush at Palace Personnel Slope?
The remaining Great Peace Palace guards began to scatter and flee. A voice issued commands in a foreign language, and the ambushers rose to pursue, running and shooting arrows under the dim starlight and moonlight. Li Yuangui took advantage of the chaos to stand up, mixing with the crowd to run toward where the most bodies were piled, searching through the screaming bloodbath for that woman.
He had to first confirm that the woman wasn’t his Seventeenth Sister… He found her – indeed it wasn’t, it was Crown Princess Su.
Lady Su’s hands were bound behind her back and she had fainted, with a large bloodstain on her shoulder and an arrow in her leg, but her body was warm and her breathing rapid – her life should not be in danger. Li Yuangui had just breathed a sigh of relief when footsteps sounded beside him, followed by the sound of a blade cutting through the air as someone ran up to chop down at his head.
Just from the sound of the blade, he knew this person’s swordsmanship was ordinary, merely seeking brutality, and their arm strength wasn’t impressive either. Li Yuangui was used to practicing fighting with Yang Xinzhi and couldn’t even be bothered to look up. His right hand went to his waist to draw his sword, first blocking the incoming blade with the back of his sword in a backhand motion, then immediately twisting his wrist to slide his blade tip along the opponent’s sword toward their fingers.
Before the “clang” of metal striking metal had ended, his opponent had already cried out and withdrawn his hand, dropping his sword and retreating. This was only because his reaction was quick enough – otherwise, it wouldn’t have been the sword that fell but four severed fingers. Li Yuangui stepped forward, his left hand reaching out to lightly pinch the back of the opponent’s dropped blade, while his right hand’s sword tip was already pointing at the opponent’s throat.
The opponent saw the situation and retreated further, but he was stepping backward and could never be faster than Li Yuangui’s forward step. With the current chaotic situation around them, Li Yuangui didn’t want to waste time causing trouble, so his right wrist flicked forward, intending to slash open the opponent’s throat with his sword tip.
As one retreated and one advanced, they both moved into a small clearing lit by starlight and moonlight. Li Yuangui suddenly looked up and saw the opponent’s face, slightly startled, the force in his wrist pausing.
Note: The hunting dogs commonly used by Tang Dynasty nobles were called “xi quan” or “xi gou” (slender hounds), and their images frequently appear in Tang tomb murals. For example, in this “Falconry and Dogs” painting from Crown Prince Yide’s tomb in the Qianling Mausoleum, an attendant holds a falcon (a small hawk used to catch birds) on his arm and leads a collared slender hound – standard hunting equipment.
The slender hound is also thought to be the prototype of the “Howling Celestial Dog,” but this ancient hunting breed has now become extremely rare in China, nearly extinct. Some places in Shandong and Shaanxi are still breeding these dogs.