Yang Xinzhi was dressed as a garrison guard, with a red headband and black leg wrappings. He held a polo mallet in his right hand and led a glossy chestnut horse with his left as he slowly emerged from the right side of the field. As man and horse approached the center of the flat field, the musicians and spectators along the sidelines erupted in wild cheers and applause.
Looking down from the third floor, Li Yuangui could barely make out Yang Xinzhi’s—or rather, Murong Nuohebo’s—expression due to the distance. However, his steps were steady, and his entire bearing was composed and dignified. Already naturally tall and robust, leading a sleek and well-built stallion of striking color, he cut an impressive figure with his sharp and spirited attire. As he strode across the field with the commanding presence of a dragon or tiger, he embodied the perfect image of a Tang dynasty hero that thousands dreamed of.
Li Yuangui deliberately glanced at the section where foreign envoys were seated on the right side of the field. The crowd there was also in a frenzy, particularly one figure in the middle who was most energetically waving a Tuyuhun flag adorned with dragon-horse patterns—he recognized this as the eunuch Minu, a special envoy sent by Murong Shun.
In contrast to Yang Xinzhi, Prince Zun, who led his horse from the right side of the field, displayed an obvious air of dejection and listlessness. Even before the match began, he had already lost in terms of presence.
Prince Zun had white cloth wrapped around his head and face from medical treatment, and he had changed into a nimble outfit, holding an ebony polo mallet. While it might have been normal for him to appear somewhat weak given his injuries and probable lack of proper rest, why did the dappled yellow horse he was leading appear even more feeble than its handler?
Yesterday, Imperial Brother-in-law Changsun personally went to the Imperial Stables in the palace to select two stallions of similar build and temperament, bringing them for Prince Zun to choose first. Once selected, the horse had remained constantly by his side. Today, while the red horse still maintained yesterday’s vibrant spirit, the white horse was swaying unsteadily with unstable steps, head hanging low and refusing to lift it.
The Murong uncle and nephew met at the center of the polo field. Without exchanging any greetings, they turned together to face the Imperial Pavilion where the Emperor sat. Yang Xinzhi habitually knelt and kowtowed, but Prince Zun stood defiantly upright, tilting his face up to shout a lengthy speech.
…Li Yuangui couldn’t understand a single word.
He instinctively turned to look at the Emperor, only to find his brother wearing a pleased smile, appearing somewhat smug. Could it be that the Divine Emperor was truly omniscient, even understanding the Tuyuhun language?
Before he could complete this thought, sudden exclamations erupted from below, followed by laughter and applause. Li Yuangui hurriedly looked down, and after focusing for a moment, he finally saw what had happened—the white horse led by Prince Zun had… defecated.
While this was ordinarily a common occurrence on the polo field, the dappled horse’s condition was abnormal. It spun in circles a few times, its hind legs weakening as if about to collapse. Prince Zun pulled at the reins, but when several forceful tugs proved ineffective, he simply threw them down and again shouted skyward, his roar filled with rage.
Above, there were sounds of stifled laughter, and the Emperor turned away, his whole body shaking with mirth. Suddenly, Li Yuangui understood the meaning behind the Crown Prince’s earlier words about “victory being assured with His Majesty’s arrangements.”
“Before Changsun Qigong brought the two horses to Shuntian Gate, did he feed the dappled one croton seeds… or some other laxative?” Li Yuangui couldn’t help asking. “But that doesn’t make sense… how could they ensure Prince Zun would choose the white horse?”
He glanced again at the red horse Yang Xinzhi was leading, which showed no signs of illness. How had this gamble paid off so perfectly?
The Emperor didn’t answer his half-brother, merely sighing with a smile and muttering to himself:
“That wastrel Wuji, insisting on using two of my fine horses for this task! Even with a bout of diarrhea, it’s not a serious condition, but it will still take a good month or two of careful nurturing to recover. What was the necessity? Couldn’t he have just found two ordinary horses…”
Two horses?
Li Yuangui thought carefully and suddenly understood. Looking again at the chestnut stallion beside Yang Xinzhi, from this distance, he couldn’t distinguish any difference from the red horse Changsun Wuji had brought yesterday, and suspected that even up close, most people wouldn’t be able to tell them apart.
But that must have been a “third horse.”
Among the thousands of fine steeds in the Emperor’s six stables, what difficulty would there be in finding a few with similar appearance and coat? Imperial Brother-in-law Changsun had tampered with both horses beforehand, bringing them for Prince Zun to choose from. After Prince Zun selected the white horse and they separated, Changsun Wuji had someone bring another chestnut stallion to Yang Xinzhi, while the original red horse was led away for care. If Prince Zun had chosen the red horse, the result would have been the same.
Seeing the Emperor laughing like a pampered young noble whose scheme had succeeded, Li Yuangui couldn’t help but cross his hands and speak:
“Your subject dares to advise Your Majesty that a sage ruler nurturing the masses should take sincerity, trust, benevolence, and righteousness as fundamental…”
“Get out!” the Emperor irritably cut off his half-brother. “You haven’t even married your bride yet, and you’re already acting like a disciple of your father-in-law’s Wei family? Our court’s remonstrating officials line up from the Taiji Hall to outside the Vermillion Bird Gate. If each person remonstrated for an hour every day, three years wouldn’t be enough to get to your turn!”
What kind of response was that… Li Yuangui silently closed his mouth. By now the Emperor had no attention to spare for him anyway, as officials from the Court of State Ceremonial were loudly reporting on their knees that the former Tuyuhun Crown Prince and criminal Murong Prince Zun was requesting to exchange horses for the polo match.
His white horse, which he had chosen yesterday, had been suffering from diarrhea all night and now could barely stand on the field. Several people had already gone to carry it away. Among the foreign envoys’ seats came sounds of sighing and clicking tongues, while the Emperor tossed out some cold remarks: “Murong Fuyun and his son defied Heaven’s will and made themselves my enemies. This is Heaven’s punishment and retribution—what use would changing horses be? Does he still want to play polo? Then let him play on foot!”
When this imperial decree was announced to the field, it triggered another wave of cheers and drumming that immediately drowned out Prince Zun’s angry shouts. Watching from the third floor, Li Yuangui saw Yang Xinzhi spread his arms in a gesture of apologetic yielding, also releasing his horse’s reins and signaling for attendants to come to lead away the chestnut stallion. He gripped his polo mallet firmly with his bear-like arms and swung it twice, indicating he would voluntarily give up his mount and join Prince Zun in playing on foot.
This gesture appeared magnanimous and admirable, Li Yuangui thought privately. Those unaware of the truth might believe Prince Nuohebo was sacrificing a huge advantage for the sake of a fair contest. Little did they know that if Yang Rou Ta were to play polo while mounted, he probably wouldn’t even be able to hit the ball with his mallet…
With both horses led away, only two young men of different heights stood facing each other on the vast polo field, with an official holding the ball placed between them, waiting for the opening drumbeat. Li Yuangui felt there was no point in watching this match anymore—it would be even more one-sided than the Tang army’s thrashing of the Tuyuhun forces at Western Sea Road.
His Emperor brother, having laughed enough, also composed himself and let out a long breath, seeming somewhat bored. It was just like warfare—when all the preparations are made beforehand, pushing one’s advantages to the extreme to completely overwhelm the enemy, the actual battle becomes as easy as cutting vegetables, and the process isn’t particularly entertaining to watch.
A drum sounded, and the whole field erupted in cheers. Yang Xinzhi, with his superior height and reach, swung his mallet and struck the ball first, sending it flying like a meteor toward the opposite goal.
“The one who defeated Prince Zun in this polo match wasn’t Yang Xinzhi, but Your Majesty the Heavenly Khan,” Li Yuangui said softly, swallowing the last half of his thought: “—However, using such underhanded tricks brings no glory.”