First Year of Jianyuan, Sixth Month, Eighteenth Day.
The lamps in the Changle Palace burned all night. I did not know what they were discussing, but I knew the sky was about to change. Qingxing ran in from outside, her face as pale as paper, stumbling so badly she nearly tripped over the threshold. Clinging to the doorframe, gasping for breath, her voice trembled violently. "Your Majesty, the Empress Dowager has summoned everyone. Empress Wang, the Eldest Princess, Imperial Clan Head Liu Li, Prime Minister Wei Wan—all have gone to Changle Palace. Furthermore, the Minister of Ceremonies has also been summoned."
The brush in my hand paused. The cinnabar at the tip spread into a small red patch on the bamboo slip, like blood. "What about His Majesty?"
"His Majesty is at the front court. Something has happened with the King of Liang."
My heart sank, as if seized and dragged downward. "What happened?"
"The three thousand men at Mangdang Mountain are no longer 'protecting the forest.' The King of Liang has raised his banner, claiming he intends to 'clear the ruler's side of evil ministers.' He says there are villains around His Majesty beguiling the imperial ear, and he will lead troops into the capital to purge the treacherous."
Clear the ruler's side. Historically, every call to "clear the ruler's side" was a pretext for rebellion. The King of Liang had finally made his move. I stood up and walked to the window. Outside was the night of Chang'an; the moon was obscured by clouds, with only a sliver of gray-white on the horizon. The air was stifling, suffocating. The storm was coming.
Inside the Changle Palace, candles burned high. I stood behind the curtain of the side hall, peering through the gap to see the scene within. The air was thick with the scent of sandalwood and scorched oak, mixed together into a sweetness that was cloying. Empress Dowager Dou sat at the head; before her on the desk lay a roll of silk—a secret letter from the King of Liang. She read it once, put it down, picked it up again, and read it once more. Her fingers slowly stroked the edge of the silk, as if caressing a child's face.
Empress Wang sat on the right, her face very pale, fingers clutching her sleeve cuffs until her knuckles turned white. Her lips were pressed tight, corners slightly downturned, as if suppressing something. The Eldest Princess sat on the left. Confined for a month, she had lost much weight; her cheekbones protruded, her eyes sunken. Yet her eyes were bright—bright like burning fire. Her hands rested on her knees, veins bulging on the back of her hands, nails digging into her palms. Imperial Clan Head Liu Li stood in the center of the hall, head bowed, daring not to speak. Prime Minister Wei Wan stood beside him, expression calm, but I saw sweat on his temples trickling down.
"All are present." Empress Dowager Dou's voice was flat, flat as a frozen river. She placed the silk letter on the desk; the movement was light, yet that soft sound was exceptionally clear in the quiet hall. "The King of Liang has risen in arms. Three thousand men at Mangdang Mountain. Claiming to 'clear the ruler's side.'"
The hall fell silent for an instant. So silent one could hear the wicks crackingcrackle, crackle.
"Empress Dowager," the Eldest Princess spoke. Her voice was hoarse, like stone grinding against stone, each word squeezed forcibly from her throat. "The King of Liang is your son. He rises in arms for the sake of Han, not for himself. He cannot bear to see... His Majesty beguiled by a sorceress, the laws of our ancestors trampled—"
Empress Wang raised her head, looking at the Eldest Princess. Her gaze was cold, cold as winter well water. "For the sake of Han? He colludes with Huainan and Hengshan, privately manufactures weapons, secretly harbors death warriors—is this for the sake of Han?" Her voice was not loud, but every word was clear, like nails being hammered one by one into a wooden board.
The Eldest Princess's face flushed red. "He is clearing the ruler's side!" Her voice became shrill, like fingernails scratching a bronze mirror. "There are traitors around His Majesty—that woman of unknown origin beguiling the imperial ear, violating the laws of our ancestors. The King of Liang is removing harm for the sake of Han!" Her voice trembled, the veins on the back of her hands bulging even more, her knuckles white as bone.
"Enough." Empress Dowager Dou's voice was not loud, but everyone in the hall heard it. She did not stand; she merely raised her hand slightly. Her fingers were long, knuckles prominent. That slight lift was like a blade falling. The Eldest Princess's lips trembled, but she spoke no more.
Empress Dowager Dou turned her head to look at Imperial Clan Head Liu Li. Her gaze was flat, flat as a pool of stagnant water. "Imperial Clan Head, what is your view on deposing the Empress?"
Standing behind the curtain, my heart contracted sharply, as if seized.Depose the Empress. She had finally said it. My fingers clenched the edge of the curtain, fingertips numb.
Liu Li bowed his head even lower, almost touching his chest. "Empress Dowager, deposing the Empress is a major matter. It requires approval from the ancestral temple, joint signatures from hundreds of officials—"
"I am asking you, what isyour view."
Liu Li remained silent for a long time. The hall was so quiet one could hear his breathing, heavy like a drowning man. "This humble servant believes the Empress has committed no grave offense. The great marriage was announced to the temple, reported to Heaven and Earth and the ancestors. To depose her now would harm the dignity of the state. Furthermore..." He paused. "Furthermore, with the King of Liang rising in arms imminently, deposing the Empress at this time would shake the court and the countryside, detrimental to the nation."
Empress Dowager Dou's eyes narrowed. The narrowing motion was slow, like the instant before a cat pounces. "No grave offense? Her origin is unknown, she violates ritual propriety, she beguiles the imperial ear—are these not grave offenses?"
"Empress Dowager," Prime Minister Wei Wan suddenly spoke. He stepped forward; his boots struck the stone slab with a heavy sound. His voice was steady, steady as a rock, but beneath that steadiness, I detected a hint of tension. "This humble servant believes now is not the time to discuss deposing the Empress. The King of Liang has risen in arms; the nation faces crisis. The urgent task is to quell the rebellion. With internal unrest unquelled, moving first against the Central Palace—the military morale will be unstable, the people's hearts unstable, the world unstable."
The hall fell silent again. Empress Dowager Dou looked at Wei Wan for a long time. Her fingers tapped lightly on her knee—once, once, very slowly. Then she smiled. Not a cold smile, but something colder. The smile lingered only at the corner of her mouth, not reaching her eyes, like a crack on a sheet of ice.
"The Prime Minister is correct," she said, her voice very light, light as a feather landing. "Quell the rebellion first. After the rebellion is quelled, we will settle accounts."
She leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes. The wick jumped; her shadow flickered on the wall.
In the Xuanshi Hall, Liu Che stood before the map. His back was straight, but I saw his hands—clenched tightly on the desk. Knuckles white, veins bulging on the back of his hands. The undercover agent knelt on the ground, voice trembling. Mud caked his knees, grass clings stained his robe hem, as if he had traveled a great distance.
"Your Majesty, the King of Liang's three thousand men have left Mangdang Mountain. The vanguard has reached the Sui River, eight hundred li from Chang'an."
"Eight hundred li." Liu Che's voice was flat, flat as a frozen river. Looking at his back, I could see his shoulder blades tighten slightly, like a drawn bow. "With forced marches, how many days?"
"Five days. Five days at most."
Liu Che said nothing. He looked at the map, his finger tracing from Mangdang Mountain to the Sui River, from the Sui River to Chang'an. That line was short, short as if a single slash could cut it open. His finger stopped there, pressing on the location of Chang'an, knuckles turning white.
"Issue the edict," he said, voice steady, every word clear. "General of Chariots and Cavalry Li Guang shall lead twenty thousand troops to station at Hangu Pass. Commandant Cheng Buzhi shall lead ten thousand troops to guard Bashang. Colonel Gongsun He shall lead five thousand troops to guard the gates of Chang'an."
"Your Majesty," the agent raised his head, sweat trickling from his temples, "if twenty thousand go to Hangu Pass, the garrison in Chang'an will be insufficient."
"It is enough," Liu Che said. He turned around; moonlight streamed through the lattice, striking his face. Half his face was bright, half dark, but his eyes were bright—bright as a blade's edge. "The King of Liang has only three thousand men. Three thousand cannot take Chang'an. What he wants is not Chang'an, but the hearts of the people. He is waiting—waiting for the people in the court to fear, waiting for someone to open the city gates to welcome him."
He turned and looked at me. I stood behind the curtain; I did not know when I had walked over. His gaze fell on my face; in that gaze was fire, was a blade, was the loneliness of a Son of Heaven. And fear. A very deep, very deep fear hidden for who knows how many years. But in an instant, he suppressed that layer of fear.
"Xingye."
"Here."
"Go to Changle Palace. Watch things on the Empress Dowager's side for me."
"Alright."
He walked over and grasped my hand. His hand was very cold, fingertips trembling slightly. "Be careful," he whispered, so low only I could hear.
"Mm."
In the Changle Palace, the people had dispersed. Only Empress Dowager Dou remained. She sat at the head; the tea before her was cold, she did not drink it. The wicks had burned long; smoke coiled around the beams. The hall was dark, dark as a cave. Her shadow cast on the wall was large, thin. I stood at the door; she did not raise her head.
"Come in," she said. Her voice was flat, flat as if speaking of something ordinary.
I walked in and stood before her. She did not order me to kneel, nor to sit. She simply looked at me, her gaze moving from my face to my collar, then back. That gaze was heavy, like a mountain pressing down.
"Do you know why the King of Liang is rebelling?" she suddenly asked.
"Because he is afraid."
She raised her head, looking at me. Her eyes were bright, bright as knives. "Afraid of what?"
"Afraid His Majesty will reduce his fiefdom, afraid His Majesty will investigate his cases, afraid... that one day His Majesty will take his life. He has been afraid for too long, afraid until he could only strike first."
She looked at me for a long time. The hall was so quiet one could hear the breathing of two people. Then she smiled. Not a cold smile, but something more complex. The smile spread from the corner of her mouth to the corners of her eyes, deepening the wrinkles, deep as knife carvings. Beneath that smile were tears, but they did not fall.
"You are right," she said, her voice dropping low, low as if talking to herself. "He is afraid. He has been afraid since childhood. He is my youngest son, the one I loved most. But he is afraid. Afraid he is not as good as his brother, afraid he won't get what he wants, afraid... that one day when I am gone, no one will protect him."
Her fingers on her knees loosened, then clenched again.
"I protected him all his life. Now, he rebels."
She closed her eyes. The wick jumped; her shadow flickered on the wall. In that moment, she did not look like Empress Dowager Dou. She looked like a mother. A mother whose son is about to rebel.
She opened her eyes and looked at me. "Do you know why I want to depose you?"
"Because I do not conform to ritual propriety."
"No." Her voice suddenly became sharp, like a blade scraping against stone. "Because you have changed Che'er. Before, he listened to me. Whatever I said, he listened. Since you came, he does not listen. He does not listen to me, does not listen to the court officials, does not listen to anyone. He listens only to you."
I looked at her. The candlelight danced in her eyes, making that layer of hardness appear very thin. Beneath that thinness was fear. A mother, afraid her son no longer needs her.
"Empress Dowager," I said, "His Majesty has not changed. He has simply grown up."
She looked at me for a long time. Inside the hall, the wick jumped againcrackle. Her gaze moved from my face to the window outside; the moon emerged from the clouds, shining on the ground, pale and ghastly.
"You are right," she said, her voice very light, light as wind blowing through ashes. "He has grown up."
She leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes. "Leave."
I withdrew. Reaching the door, I looked back. She sat there, the lamp light dancing on her face, illuminating it alternately bright and dark. Her eyes were closed, corners of her mouth slightly downturned. In that moment, she was not Empress Dowager Dou. She was an old person. A very, very old, tired person.
First Year of Jianyuan, Sixth Month, Twentieth Day. The King of Liang's army crossed the Sui River.
When the news reached Chang'an, the court erupted. Standing behind the curtain, I could hear the voices inside—some advocating war, voices loud, slamming the desks; some advocating peace, voices shrill, almost shouting; some suggesting relocating the capital, saying Chang'an could not be held, better to retreat west of the passes. The sounds mixed together like a pot of boiling porridge. Liu Che sat at the head, listening to them argue. He said nothing, just listening. His face was obscured behind the jade beads of his crown, but I saw his hands—resting on his knees, very steady.
When everyone had finished speaking, he stood up. The movement was slow, but everyone fell silent.
"My decision is final." His voice was not loud, but everyone in the hall heard it. That voice was flat, flat as a frozen river, but beneath that flatness was fire. "No retreat, no surrender, no relocation of the capital. Li Guang is already at Hangu Pass, Cheng Buzhi at Bashang, Gongsun He at the city gates. The King of Liang's three thousand men cannot reach Chang'an."
He paused. The hall was so quiet one could hear breathing.
"I will personally lead the expedition."
The hall fell silent for an instant. Then it exploded. Sounds surged like a tide—I could feel the vibration even through the curtain.
"Your Majesty, this is impermissible—"
"Your Majesty is of precious body—"
"Your Majesty—"
He raised his hand. The movement was light, but everyone fell silent.
"My decision is final," he said. "Court adjourned."
That night, he came to the Jiaofang Palace. I sat by the window, holding a roll of bamboo slips but not reading them. Outside, the moon was obscured by clouds, with only a sliver of gray-white on the horizon. The air was stifling, suffocating. He stood at the door; moonlight shone from behind him, casting his shadow long and thin on the ground. He wore casual clothes, no crown, hair simply tied back. His face was indistinct in the backlight, but I saw his eyes—very bright, bright as a blade's edge.
"Xingye."
"Mm."
"I must leave."
"I know."
He walked over and sat beside me. The couch was still covered with the wedding bedding, bright red, glowing warmly in the candlelight. He reached out and held my hand. His hand was very hot, thin calluses on his palm. Unlike the coldness in the court during the day, this was warm.
"Are you afraid?"
"No," I said. "You will win."
"How do you know?"
"Because you are Liu Che."
He looked at me for a long time. Outside the window, the wind stopped, the leaves fell silent; the whole of Chang'an was quiet. His gaze moved from my eyes to my nose, then to my lips, as if confirming something.
"Xingye."
"Mm."
"Wait for my return."
"Alright."
Outside, the summer wind in Chang'an picked up. Strong. Blowing the leaves with a rustling sound. The cloud on the horizon pressed lower, black and heavy, as if about to collapse. But his hand was warm, holding mine very tightly.
First Year of Jianyuan, Sixth Month, Twenty-First Day. The Son of Heaven leads the expedition personally.
Before dawn, Chang'an woke. I stood on the city wall, looking down at the streets below. Commoners stood on both sides of the street, densely packed, stretching from the palace gate to where the eye could no longer see. Some held flowers, some held children, some knelt on the ground. On the horizon was a line of light, dark red, like heated iron. Drumbeats came from the direction of the palace gate, one after another, dull and distant, vibrating until my chest felt numb.
Liu Che, clad in armor, rode out from the palace gate. The armor was black, reflecting cold light in the morning glow. The helmet covered his forehead, revealing only his eyes. His eyes were very bright—bright as a blade's edge. Sunlight struck him; the copper studs on his armor flashed one by one, like stars. He sat on the horse, back straight, like a tree planted in the wind.
As he passed below the city wall, he raised his head and glanced at me. Across such a distance, I could not see his expression clearly, but I saw his eyes. That gaze was brief, lasting only an instant. Then he turned his head and continued forward.
I stood on the city wall, watching his back grow smaller and smaller. The sunlight shone on the official road, making the entire path appear white. His silhouette grew smaller and smaller in the light, finally becoming a dot, disappearing on the horizon.
Ajiao stood beside me, her fingers clutching the bricks of the city wall, knuckles white. The wind blew her hair loose; she did not bother to fix it.
"Xingye," she said, "he will return."
"I know."
"Are you afraid?"
I turned to look at her. The wind blew, carrying the scent of earth and green grass. The clouds on the horizon scattered; sunlight leaked through the cracks, bathing the earth in golden light.
"No," I said. "He will win."
In the distance, the clouds on the horizon scattered completely. Sunlight poured down, making the entire official road appear white, bright as a bronze mirror. The walls of Chang'an looked exceptionally sturdy in the morning light; wild grass growing in the cracks of the blue bricks swayed gently in the wind. The storm had not yet passed. But I knew he would return. He definitely would.
[End of Chapter 30]