Chapter 3#
The Crown Prince#
“My lord general, do have a look at the time,” a group of eunuchs[1] stood within the palace gate corridor. The one in front stepped forward to complain the moment he saw Yuchi Liang. “Dawdle any longer and dawn will break. We were all sent out on this errand together—show us some consideration too!”
“This matter is grave; I dare not be careless. You’ve never held command, so you don’t know how difficult it was to select these sixteen men.” Having known each other long, Yuchi Liang and the man dispensed with formalities. He only asked, “What’s the situation inside right now?”
“Oh, it’s pandemonium in there—absolute chaos.” Xu Daochun stomped his frost-numbed feet twice. “There are not only King Fucheng’s soldiers inside, but the Crown Prince’s own banner general and his men. One side is clamoring to escort the Crown Prince out; the other won’t let anyone pass. They’re about to come to blows.”
Xu Daochun was a newly promoted Palace Attendant. He was originally from beyond the passes—a surrendered subject, as it were—and it was precisely because of this connection that he could be on such familiar terms with Yuchi Liang. On this trip Yuchi Liang had come to execute the official errand; Xu Daochun accompanied him as both aide and imperial envoy.
Yuchi Liang pondered for a moment, then asked, “Has the Crown Prince seen King Fucheng’s soldiers?”
“He hasn’t.” Xu Daochun glanced left and right, then leaned in close to Yuchi Liang’s ear. “I’ve stood here all night and haven’t caught so much as a glimpse of the Crown Prince.”
Yuchi Liang felt reassured and asked further, “What’s the meaning of this? Everyone outside has surrendered; inside and out are all our troops. Can he still renege?”
“Reneging is certainly out of the question—the situation is perfectly clear.” Xu Daochun covered his lips with his sleeve. “The Crown Prince refuses to see anyone; more likely than not, that affliction of his has flared up.”
Yuchi Liang’s expression shifted slightly. He glanced at the rain beyond the corridor and murmured, “There’s no moon tonight—how could he have… it act up?”
He spoke the last three words very softly, as though merely uttering them would court disaster.
“You still can’t figure this out?” The corridor was dim. Xu Daochun dodged the torches on either side and whispered, “Miluo’s head is still on his desk. That kind of thing can’t be entrusted to another’s hand—it must be dealt with personally, returned to Senluo. But it’s a rebel’s head. Why such a grand show?”
Yuchi Liang suddenly understood. Not only had they dispatched him on this errand, but King Fucheng’s troops had been mobilized as well. He had originally assumed it was for a shortage of manpower, but from what Xu Daochun was saying, there was more beneath the surface.
“You mean to say,” Yuchi Liang chose his words carefully, “His Majesty toward Miluo…”
“After all these years, no matter how deep the grudge between father and son, it ought to be settled by now. But once it’s settled—can one not feel grief in one’s heart?” Xu Daochun’s voice drifted like smoke. “Someone killed the son he held most dear, and who was it? Not just anyone—his grandson. How do you settle that score? I reckon His Majesty’s mind is in turmoil too. The Crown Prince returning to Senluo now—no one can say whether it means life or death. Just for that alone, mustn’t he put on an appearance of being grief-stricken beyond consolation? And what means other than an ’episode’ is there?”
“Even if he has a mind to act, an episode isn’t so easy to fake…” Yuchi Liang’s voice trailed off, and he adopted a look of sudden realization. “No wonder he sent a few dogs to stand guard at the door—he was afraid someone would see through the ruse.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” Xu Daochun said. “But it’s been rough on us—left standing here all night, and we couldn’t even deliver the edict.”
Yuchi Liang then asked, “What do we do now?”
Xu Daochun let out a soft laugh and stepped back slightly. “You’re the one calling the shots on this trip. Whatever we do depends on your decision.”
Son of a bitch. Yuchi Liang sneered inwardly. Round and round it goes—he still wants to leave the hard part to someone else. That damn eunuch!
“My men have all arrived. Let’s go inside and take a look.” Yuchi Liang’s expression didn’t change. “Tonight’s errand, at bottom, is simply to read the imperial edict to the Crown Prince. If he still won’t show himself in a moment, then open the doors—I’ll read it to him from the bottom of the steps.”
“Which is why they say you’re the one calling the shots?” Xu Daochun draped his horsetail whisk over his forearm. “Just for that commanding presence of yours, I’ll have to stake my life accompanying the brave—this way, please!”
It was still dark; the scene was grim and oppressive. The eunuchs all knelt flat on the ground, not daring to look around. In the distance, soldiers were shouting.
“Listen to me! The edict is at the door—there has been never a rule that it cannot be summoned in. If you delay official business, I’ll hold you accountable! I haven’t laid hands on you yet—it’s all for the sake of the Eastern Palace’s face. Don’t think I wouldn’t dare. You have no right to play the tyrant here!”
“What’s all this?” Yuchi Liang called out from a distance. “Whatever you have to say, couldn’t you say it inside instead of standing out here reprimanding them? With all these eunuchs on the ground listening, whose face does that leave intact?”
The moment he opened his mouth, it was already biased. Sure enough, the general who had been lecturing turned his head and gave Yuchi Liang a glance—smiling without warmth. “So that’s why a pack of wet-behind-the-ears whelps dared to stand up to me here—they have someone backing them up. General Yuchi, the Crown Prince may have submitted now, but you shouldn’t forget our friendship of over ten years.”
“Now that’s something I don’t like hearing. What ‘backing up,’ what ‘standing up to’? We’re all brothers under one roof—speaking like that is far too cold.” Yuchi Liang drew closer, first glancing up at the steps, then turning to the general. “Old Jin, you’re King Fucheng’s most valued general. You’ve won countless battles out there. How is it that, once you come here, you lose your temper over a group of boys?”
“I don’t have time to waste squabbling with a pack of lapdogs. See for yourself.” Jin Mingshi jerked his chin toward the steps. “All this time, and these fellows are putting on a grand show of unswerving loyalty for me.”
Yuchi Liang turned to face the men on the steps and advised, “Young brother, don’t blame General Jin. He’s a man accustomed to the clamor of battle—his temper may be short, but his character and abilities are beyond reproach. He’s right. The edict has arrived at the door; there has never been a rule that it cannot be summoned in. If the Crown Prince is still awake, please ask him to come out and receive it with due respect.”
Xu Daochun, standing behind, felt his eyelid twitch. He sensed the words Yuchi Liang had just spoken did not match what he had said moments ago.
Beneath the pitch-black palace eaves, rainwater coursed down in rivulets. Tier upon tier of steps rose upward, lined with countless Eastern Palace Guards. They were fully armed, every one of them with a hand resting on the hilt of his saber. Not a single sound.
“I’ll say this one more time,” rain—or perhaps tears—streamed across his face. The leading Eastern Palace banner general’s eyes were bloodshot, and his words came out stiff and raw. “Without the Crown Prince’s orders, no one—not a single soul—may approach half a step closer to this hall.”
“Not drinking the toast, so you’d rather drink the punish cup,” Jin Mingshi seethed. He had been stonewalled all night, and his fire still burned hot. “Don’t put on airs with me. You think you can scare me? You’re not worthy!”
“Ah, please, don’t!” This was Xu Daochun’s first time out on an errand. He didn’t want to botch the job, so he no longer dared to play the shrinking violet and rushed in to smooth things over. “General Jin, please calm down. I specifically brought General Yuchi here to mediate. We can talk this through—there’s no need to get so worked up. At worst, we can simply wait until dawn—”
The banner general didn’t even blink. He stared fixedly at Jin Mingshi and bit off the word: “Leave.”
It was a harsh thing to hear, but matters hadn’t deteriorated beyond repair. Xu Daochun still wanted to offer an apologetic smile when, unexpectedly, a thunderous crack split through the rain—someone had drawn a blade. Footsteps in every direction instantly descended into chaos, and soldiers began to cross the line. It would not have been a serious matter—just turn a blind eye and it would blow over. What ruined it was that this banner general was also a man of absolute conviction.
These Eastern Palace Guards had endured a sudden upheaval after standing vigil at the hall’s entrance for a day and a night. The entire group was like a taut bowstring, unable to withstand any provocation. When they saw soldiers cross the line, the banner general’s saber was out of its sheath in an instant!
Before Jin Mingshi could even give the order, blood had already sprayed across his face. He was a fierce general under King Fucheng’s command—unrivaled in glory on the outside, a man who wouldn’t even deign to give face to surrendered Kuntu generals like Yuchi Liang, let alone a freshly submitted Eastern Palace banner general. After a brief moment of stunned paralysis, his face twisted into something almost bestial, and he snarled with near-feral fury: “I—will—fuck—your—ancestors—”
Each faction had limited troops; any soldier not deployed to the battlefield was a soldier wasted. Jin Mingshi had brought King Fucheng’s elite on this trip—men who had fought campaigns in the north for years, each with battle honors to his name. Now one had been killed for no reason at all. How could Jin Mingshi not erupt?
Xu Daochun could no longer hold them back. The soldiers of both sides crashed into each other in the blink of an eye! Amid the flash of blades and the clash of steel, he felt his soul about to flee his body. Seeing that Yuchi Liang was still there, he grabbed the man urgently and said in a panicked voice, “We can’t let this happen! Quickly—call for reinforcements. This errand—”
“Don’t fret, Attendant Xu. I brought men of my own.” Yuchi Liang moved unhurriedly, stepping aside to reveal the passage. “This group is a handpicked lot of my finest. They won’t let the Crown Prince be alarmed.”
The space he stepped away from was pitch dark—on one side, soldiers under the heavenly stars; on the other, the din of slaughter. The assassins who had long been embedded in Jin Mingshi’s ranks now revealed themselves. They had been biding their time in the chaos, all for this very moment.
Yuchi Liang hadn’t brought his own soldiers for two reasons. First, he valued their lives. Second, he needed them in reserve to handle the aftermath. If the Crown Prince died tonight, all would rejoice—he had any number of ways to report back to Milinan. The man’s death had not been Yuchi Liang’s wish; it was bandits, rebels, King Fucheng’s own soldiers who had attacked. He had simply failed to protect the Crown Prince. If the Crown Prince survived the night, that too was no problem—he could bring his men in to rescue the sovereign. So long as the assassins were dealt with thoroughly, was that not a merit worthy of record?
As for the Crown Prince himself—what he thought, what he felt—none of that fell within Yuchi Liang’s calculations. A rebel’s orphan without a father, who fancied that returning to Senluo would be like a flood dragon slipping into the sea? Don’t delude yourself. Milinan had lost a son, but he still had four adopted ones, and every single one of them was eyeing the throne with hungry eyes.
“If King Fucheng wanted to wade into these murky waters, he could have sent anyone. Of all people, he had to send a firecracker that goes off at the slightest touch.” Yuchi Liang helped Xu Daochun to his feet and sighed. “Now it’s truly gone to hell. You’d better start thinking of your wording early—don’t go back and grieve His Majesty all over again.”
How could Xu Daochun not understand? He hadn’t wanted to get involved in the first place—but Yuchi Liang wouldn’t let him stay on the sidelines! His heart was in his throat now. Seeing the slaughter on the steps, he suddenly stammered in a trembling voice, “With things this bad, the—the Crown Prince still hasn’t shown himself… Could it be… could it be that his episode is real?”
On the other side, once Jin Mingshi saw blood, he knew there would be no easy resolution tonight. He wasn’t a fool. He had faced off against the Eastern Palace for a whole night with nothing amiss, yet the moment Yuchi Liang arrived, everything went wrong. If there was no connection in that, he would eat his own saber!
Those goddamn Kuntu bastards!
Jin Mingshi spat at his own feet. “Everyone stay sharp—we’ve got a snake in the ranks!”
This batch of Eastern Palace Guards was made of iron will—several had already died, and the rest fought on as though they valued nothing but the fight.
“Has a donkey kicked your brains out?” Jin Mingshi was beside himself with fury and couldn’t hold back from cursing the Eastern Palace banner general. “Mijin killed your lord, and here you are standing guard at his door. Are you some kind of spineless dog?!”
Blood flowed in sheets down the steps. The Eastern Palace Guards had already been pushed back to the hall’s entrance. Inside, it was very quiet—quiet in a way that was profoundly unnatural. Amid the chaos, the door was burst open, and wind rushed in at once, blowing the bamboo blinds flapping wide.
The assassins slipped inside with the opportunity. They were all one-in-a-hundred fighters, slithering through the doorway and windows like serpents. The interior was unlit. Screen after screen stood in the way—the Crown Prince should be in the innermost chamber.
Shaque was also an assassin, and so he stood here as well. All around were comrades-in-arms. He unbuckled his ring-pommel short blade and was glad to see them—for it was raining so hard, and that they could still gather here was a stroke of great fortune. And most importantly—
He drew the short blade partway. Blood trickled down Shaque’s cheek. His body swayed slightly as he dodged his comrade’s strike.
Clink.
When Shaque resheathed the blade, his comrade was already dead.
“Where is the Crown Prince?” Shaque turned, hooked the badge at his waist, and called out, “By the general’s order, I have come specifically to prote—”
Before the word was finished, a screen toppled abruptly from one side. Shaque’s reflexes had always been swift, but the other party practically slammed into him. The two tumbled to the ground together. He was pinned down, his back still against the floor, and he hadn’t even raised his eyes before his collar was seized. The next instant, the other party lifted his upper body and slammed him savagely into the ground!
Thud!
Taking that blow, Shaque couldn’t suppress a grunt. He hadn’t even time to register an expression—one arm wrapped around the other party’s arm, the other hand clenched into a fist, and he drove it hard into the man’s face!
You bastard!