The battle-hardened general, freshly returned from the frontlines, sighed without further complaint. Moving his finger, he pointed to another smaller tent not far from the Tuyuhun Queen’s quarters:
“That’s where their Minister of State, the Tianzhuwang, lives. When the Khan family fled a thousand li from their capital, they originally left Tianzhuwang to lead the main force against our heavenly army. But after just one battle, Tianzhuwang’s subordinates either died or fled, and he was wounded and captured. The journey has been difficult—he developed a fever a few days ago and lay unconscious in the prison cart. I truly fear he won’t make it to Chang’an, which would bring punishment upon me. Ah!”
Li Yuangui had keen eyesight and could see a man wearing a black headscarf and long robe, carrying a basket of medicinal herbs, emerge from under that tent. The man turned back to say something into the tent—presumably a physician Zhang Shigui had found to treat Tianzhuwang.
Tianzhuwang was the Queen’s brother and had served as Prime Minister for twenty years, deeply trusted by the old Khan. The brother and sister had influenced Murong Fuyun to align closely with Tibet, provoking the Great Tang with annual border raids and land grabs. Emperor Li Shimin finally lost patience and dispatched troops, leading to the Tuyuhun Khan’s nation being destroyed and him fleeing alone. While Fuyun’s family deserved their fate, it was the common people of both countries who suffered—how could life be good for either side during the war?
“Now that Tuyuhun’s Queen and Minister of State are captured, what about their Crown Prince Zunwang?” Li Yuangui asked Zhang Shigui. “Is he with his mother now? Or did he flee with his father?”
Zhang Shigui shook his head: “This I’m not clear about. The Queen has two daughters and one son with her, but that little boy is only six years old, surely not Zunwang. After capturing Fushi City, Commander Yaoshi inquired about Zunwang’s whereabouts. Everyone said he had left the capital early to go to his pastoral territories, so he probably isn’t with his father Fuyun. Commander Yaoshi analyzed that this was likely Fuyun’s strategy, deliberately keeping father and son separate—if one was captured by our army, the other could continue rallying their people to resist.”
This was indeed troublesome, Li Yuangui thought. When his third sister’s husband Chai Shao finished training the fake prince in Chang’an and sent him to Fushi City to assist Murong Shun, who had been installed by Tang forces as the Tuyuhun ruler, father and son would face the challenge of the legitimate Crown Prince Zunwang, whose whereabouts and fate remained unknown.
The Murong clan had ruled Tuyuhun for over three hundred years, with tribes revering the royal family like divine beings. Since Zunwang held a legitimate claim, it would likely be easy for him to incite various tribes to rebel and reject the rule of Murong Shun and his son. His father Murong Fuyun had done exactly this—after being scattered by Sui forces, he had risen from the ashes during the Central Plains’ chaos.
“It’s precisely to cut off that Crown Prince Zunwang’s aspirations that I’m carrying out imperial orders in the capital, and wish to select people from these prisoners to send back first…” Li Yuangui tried to persuade Zhang Shigui again to cooperate, but as soon as the Deputy Commander heard him mention plans requiring additional manpower, he waved his hand impatiently, shaking his head repeatedly and simply turning his back to look the other way, refusing to listen.
It’s not like I’m creating this trouble for my own sake… Li Yuangui secretly rolled his eyes. As he was about to persist, he suddenly noticed below him, from Tianzhuwang’s tent, another youth emerged, carrying a wooden box and following the physician as they walked away. The youth’s figure seemed familiar, and when his face turned slightly, he remarkably resembled “Sangsai,” the Tuyuhun prince who had conspired with him in the rebellion at Da’an Palace.
Li Yuangui was greatly startled. He rubbed his eyes for another look, but the youth had already walked away with the physician, his face no longer visible. He pointed at their retreating figures and had just turned to Zhang Shigui with an “Ah,” when suddenly a shout came from below the earthen mound: “General!”
Zhang Shigui turned his head asking “What?” A messenger below called out: “That batch of tribute horses has arrived in Qin Prefecture! Governor Zhao sent someone to inform Commander Zhang!”
These were the Tuyuhun horses they had been waiting for. Zhang Shigui was overjoyed and immediately started down the slope. Li Yuangui grabbed him calling “Wait,” wanting to mention what he’d just seen of Sangsai, but Zhang Shigui grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the city gate, speaking severely:
“Forgive me, Prince Wu. Military matters are urgent and brook no delay—I have no time to chat idly with you anymore. Please don’t delay your official duties either, set out immediately!”
The ruined city gate’s slope was steep and high—being pulled along so forcefully, one wrong step could send them both tumbling down. Li Yuangui was both angry and frightened, momentarily unable to speak. After stumbling safely to the ground, he tried to speak again, but Zhang Shigui loudly called for someone to “see the guest out,” gave him a cupped-hand salute and hurried away toward his horse.
This was an attempt to drive him away… Though angry, Li Yuangui didn’t argue with him, instead telling Yang Xinzhi to “go find that doctor who just entered the city and the person with him.” But Zhang Shigui’s attendants, following their master’s orders, insisted that Li Yuangui and his servants leave immediately, detaining them at the city gate for a long while. By the time Yang Xinzhi could break away to inquire about the physician, the two had already left the ancient city of Chengji with no trace to be found.
Still unwilling to give up, Li Yuangui mounted his horse and led his men in circles around the area searching for the two, telling Yang Xinzhi about possibly seeing Sangsai as they rode. Yang Xinzhi was both surprised and cautious, saying “If Sangsai had escaped Chang’an at that time and could move freely, he very likely would be here.”
According to both Sangsai himself and Kong Sumi, that youth was Tianzhuwang’s son and the Queen’s nephew, and was close to the Tuyuhun Crown Prince Zunwang. After Li Yuangui’s prison break, he had inquired with Cheng Yaojin about the descriptions of assassins captured inside and outside the Cuiyun Peak Tower of Da’an Palace that night, learning that Sangsai wasn’t among them, and besides him, almost all the other men in black had died in battle. So Sangsai must have escaped, though how he managed to flee Da’an Palace and the imperial gardens, and then disappear within and outside Chang’an city, remained a mystery.
The Tuyuhun prince’s mission in Chang’an had failed, with almost all his men lost, leaving him alone—the possibility of him secretly returning to Tuyuhun was high. Without official papers, he couldn’t use the main roads, and if he traveled in hiding, his progress would be slower. In May this year, when Tang forces won their great victory in Tuyuhun, victory announcements spread along all routes, and everyone in the northwest knew about it. Sangsai, who cared deeply about this battle, had no reason not to have heard. With his father and aunt captured, it was only natural for him to try to rescue them. If only Zhang Shigui hadn’t harbored old grudges and refused to listen properly to Li Yuangui…
They searched in circles outside the ancient city of Chengji, the circles growing larger and larger, until the sun began setting in the west, but found no suspicious traces. This confirmed that something was unusual about the physician and youth—how could ordinary people disappear so quickly without a trace?
Li Yuangui reined in his horse to think, then turned back toward the camp at the ancient city. Zhang Shigui had already ridden to Qin Prefecture to receive the tribute horses and wouldn’t make it back tonight given the hour, but Li Yuangui could warn the deputy commander left behind and others, alerting them that suspicious individuals had been spotted who might help the prisoners escape, telling them to guard carefully.
But he couldn’t even accomplish this much. By the time he returned to the camp gate, night had fallen, and everyone had closed the doors and withdrawn to guard positions within the ruined walls of the ancient city. When he called out at the gate, the answer was always “Military gates don’t open at night—that’s the rule. Please return at dawn tomorrow.”
He could hardly shout across the gate about Sangsai and the Tuyuhun prince—the matter was complicated and involved the prisoners inside, who knew what consequences there might be from announcing it publicly… Frustrated and annoyed, Li Yuangui yanked his horse’s reins and called to Yang Xinzhi and the others:
“Let’s go! Back to Qin Prefecture!”
“What? Ride through the night?” Yang Xinzhi grimaced, but seeing his master’s poor mood, quickly changed his tone: “What if something happens tonight? Better to convince them to open the gate and let us stay the night! Then we could lend a hand if needed…”
“Stop dreaming!” Li Yuangui sneered, “It’s just night riding—can’t handle that bit of hardship? Nothing will happen tonight, I know when that monkey Sangsai will make his move, and I know what he plans to do and where he’ll run!”
[Author’s Note: 1. The described “Ancient City of Chengji” has a real prototype, namely the “Suoyang City” in today’s Guazhou County, Gansu Province, a national key cultural relic protection unit and one of China’s best-preserved Han-Tang ancient cities. The author Lu visited with friends, and Photo 1 roughly shows the scale of the inner city walls and some building foundations within the city. Photos 2 and 3 show the well-preserved city gate and barbican sections, with clear rammed earth traces—such thick and tall retaining walls would indeed provide good wind protection and warmth for buildings below.
This city was the county seat of “Guazhou” in the northwest during the Tang dynasty. Due to its proximity, it’s frequently mentioned in Dunhuang documents. The murals in the Eastern Thousand Buddha Caves of Guazhou (Yulin Caves) are well-preserved with exquisite artistic style and extremely high value. Currently, the earliest mural of Sun Dasheng’s story of Xuanzang’s journey to the West is here. The historical Xuanzang did pass through this ancient city on his journey to seek Buddhist scriptures, staying here for about a month, though that was in the first year of Zhenguan. By the ninth year of Zhenguan, Xuanzang should have already reached India and was studying at Nalanda Monastery.
2. When local officials in this chapter mention “relying on grain stored in charity granaries from previous years,” these “charity granaries” were a very important establishment in Zhenguan’s economic history, founded in the second year of Zhenguan. At that time, the court considered that floods and droughts caused unstable agricultural harvests, and after the great chaos, households were depleted with most commoners having no savings due to weather disasters.
So the court established managed warehouses in various places, semi-forcibly requiring landowners to contribute two shengs of grain per mu of land to the warehouses annually (not much). These “charity granaries” stored grain specifically for relieving local famines in bad years, and were initially managed quite strictly.
According to the “Old Tang Book’s Food and Commerce Records”: “Thus all prefectures and counties throughout the empire began establishing charity granaries, which would be opened for relief whenever famine struck. Until Emperor Gaozong and Empress Wu, for several decades the charity granaries were not allowed to be used for miscellaneous purposes. Later, when public and private resources became strained, they gradually began borrowing from the charity granaries. After Emperor Zhongzong’s Shenlong period, the empire’s charity granaries were mostly depleted.”]