The Changle Gate swung wide open.
Whenever a dynasty changed hands, any conflict involving the military inevitably brought suffering to the common people. Even in the past few days, when Chang’an had merely been surrounded by a massive army, the city had nearly become a prison.
Ordinary citizens and merchants, whether inside or outside the city, had been fleeced mercilessly whenever they tried to pass through the gates. Not only were they subjected to thorough searches, but they also had to grease the palms of the soldiers guarding the gates. Even then, being allowed through was a stroke of luck.
Numerous merchant caravans had become stranded inside or outside the city, unable to come and go. Many people from other regions had been unable to return home, while others had found themselves trapped in Chang’an despite urgent family matters requiring their attention.
Yet no one dared complain.
The imperial court was in utter chaos, and even the Emperor had fallen mysteriously ill and lost consciousness. What more could they possibly hope for?
They could only pray that the fighting would never break out, and that the armies would not enter the city.
But that morning, the battle had begun outside the walls all the same.
Shortly after noon, the city gates were closed one after another, from north to south. All of Chang’an was effectively imprisoned, with only the faint sounds of fighting, clashing weapons, and roaring flames drifting in from beyond the walls.
It was not until the afternoon that Changle Gate opened.
Changle Gate led directly onto Changle Avenue. Following the avenue north would take one straight to Xuanwu Gate, outside the imperial palace.
Now, the broad Changle Avenue, wide enough for eight carriages to travel abreast, lay completely deserted. The citizens who had received advance warning were all hiding inside their homes, with their doors and windows firmly shut.
They knew that whichever side won, its army would eventually pour into the city.
The arrival of troops would inevitably bring turmoil. There might even be street-to-street fighting. Moreover, soldiers entering a city were hardly likely to leave empty-handed. There would probably be looting as well, and locking the doors and windows would do little to stop it.
After all, Chang’an had already been thrown into chaos when the army had merely surrounded it a few days earlier. How could things possibly remain peaceful now that the troops were entering the city?
The citizens hid inside their homes. Those living along the streets cautiously peered through the narrow gaps in their windows.
They saw the city gates thrown open. From far away came the sound of hoofbeats and clattering armor, like rolling thunder drawing steadily closer as it swept into the city.
The entire army advanced in orderly silence, ranks moving in formation as they entered through Changle Gate. Through their windows, the citizens watched a force clad in black armor march north along Changle Avenue.
The column was long, with more than a thousand soldiers entering the city. Yet after the troops had passed, the entire street returned to its former peace and quiet, without the slightest disturbance.
The citizens of Chang’an immediately understood that they had escaped disaster this time.
The commander leading the army must be a strict and upright general.
The people could not help feeling grateful that this was the side that had won the battle.
Gradually, after the troops had moved farther away, people began venturing onto the streets. Before long, soldiers arrived to inform each household that all eight city gates would resume normal passage before the end of the day. Anyone wishing to enter or leave could prepare the necessary identification and do so that very day.
Before long, Changle Avenue had regained its usual peaceful bustle.
But once they had breathed a sigh of relief, curiosity began to get the better of them.
“Where did this army that entered the city come from?” someone asked in a teahouse.
Naturally, most people had no idea. Then someone said, “They’re wearing black armor. I heard they’re the Yanyun Cavalry from Yan Commandery back in the day.”
Someone else asked, “Yan Commandery? Wasn’t Yan Commandery lost a couple of years ago?”
The first person shook his head. “Yan Commandery may be gone, but some of the Yanyun Cavalry survived. I heard they were absorbed into other armies. I don’t know why they’ve shown up today.”
Then someone suddenly asked, “The Yanyun Cavalry? Could the one commanding the troops from Yan Commandery be Prince of Guangling?”
The Prince of Guangling’s name was practically legendary in Chang’an.
Back then, everyone had known him as an ill-starred child, a born harbinger of calamity who had been sent to Yan Commandery immediately after birth. When Yan Commandery fell two years ago, people said his ill fate had been responsible.
However, ever since he had been granted a princely title and established his own residence early last year, Prince of Guangling had steadily gained influence at court. Even Chancellor Xu dared not provoke him.
The people of Chang’an might not understand the intricacies of the imperial court, but they certainly knew how powerful Chancellor Xu was—a man second only to the Emperor, with authority over everyone else.
If the Prince of Guangling was even more formidable than Chancellor Xu, surely it was only a matter of time before he became Emperor?
Everyone had entertained this suspicion. They had simply never dared voice it aloud.
Now that the Prince of Guangling had been mentioned, everyone felt the suggestion made sense.
Who was about to become Crown Prince and take control of the government? The Fourth Prince. And who was the Prince of Guangling? The Fifth Prince.
With the Emperor mysteriously ill, was this not simply a matter of which of the two brothers would emerge victorious?
At that, everyone began to understand the situation.
Someone remarked, “Everyone says Prince of Guangling is a harbinger of calamity, but I think he seems pretty good to me…”
Many had entertained the same thought, but no one had been willing to voice it first. Now that the army surrounding the city had been subdued, people had grown bolder.
Hearing this, they readily chimed in.
“That army outside the city claimed it was acting under an imperial decree, but just look at what it’s been doing these past few days!”
“Exactly! They said they were preventing an army that had defied the imperial order from returning to the capital, but why did they have to lock us inside as well?”
“Our shops pay rent, and we need to conduct business and bring in goods. These past few days have thrown everything into chaos. We’ve lost a great deal of money!”
“If you ask me, the Prince of Guangling seems a much better choice than the Fourth Prince.”
“And what about that so-called ill fate? Perhaps the fortune-tellers got it wrong. Even they can make mistakes…”
As the patrons of the teahouse exchanged opinions, they gradually began praising Xue Yan instead.
Suddenly, someone said, “I got a good look at the person at the very front of the column. He might have been the Prince of Guangling himself.”
The others hurriedly asked, “What did he look like?”
The man spoke with great conviction. “Naturally, he was heroic and imposing, tall and mighty, with the bearing of a celestial being! Only…”
“Only what?”
The man thought for a moment, then shook his head without explaining.
It was just that, at the time, he seemed to have seen not one person riding without black armor, but two.
He simply could not tell which of them was the Prince of Guangling.
——
Zhuque Avenue lay one street away from the imperial palace, with the residences of nobles and high-ranking officials lining both sides.
The army came to a halt there.
Xue Yan reined in his horse and turned to look at Jun Huailang.
“Go home first,” he said.
Jun Huailang nodded.
With the situation in the palace so unstable, Xue Yan and Xue Yunhong would inevitably have to settle matters between them once and for all. Given Jun Huailang’s position, it would not be appropriate for him to get involved. Besides, he knew there was nothing he needed to do at this point.
He looked at Xue Yan and nodded. Xue Yan turned back and gazed steadily at him.
“Be careful,” Jun Huailang reminded him.
Xue Yan nodded.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I wouldn’t dare die now, not even a little.”
Jun Huailang chuckled softly.
“Then I can rest easy.”
As he spoke, he turned his horse around and rode away from the Yanyun Cavalry formation alone, heading toward Zhuque Avenue.
After riding a short distance, he glanced back.
Xue Yan was still watching him.
Xue Yan said nothing, but his eyes were extraordinarily deep.
Suddenly, Jun Huailang felt that perhaps he did have something he needed to do after all.
A powerful impulse had taken hold of him.
He wanted to return home and tell his family, openly and honestly, about his relationship with Xue Yan.
——
Naturally, there were secret passages within the palace.
After Xue Yunhong and Chancellor Xu had reached an agreement, Chancellor Xu planned to have him escape through one of the palace’s hidden tunnels. Although the passage only led outside the imperial compound, Chang’an was so vast that finding one person within it would be like searching for a needle in a haystack.
They had prepared the necessary materials and even brought along Emperor Qingping’s imperial seal. Their plan was to forge an imperial edict, making it appear to be a secret decree written by Emperor Qingping before his illness, formally appointing the Fourth Prince as Crown Prince.
A struggle for the throne depended not only on whose supporters were more powerful and whose army was stronger, but also on who had the more legitimate claim.
Once the plan was carried out, they would find a way to get Xue Yunhong out of Chang’an and send him to Qinmen Pass. Some of the garrison troops there were still available to them. Once the forged edict was made public, Xue Yunhong would appear to be the rightful heir to the throne. Even if Xue Yan succeeded in taking the throne, he would be branded a usurper who had stolen the empire.
At that point, they would still have an opportunity to strike back.
Xue Yunhong entered the secret passage.
Its entrance was in the imperial study, and it led outward, eventually emerging on the eastern side of the imperial compound. They had not known about the passage themselves, but Lingfu, who accompanied Xue Yunhong, had spent years by Emperor Qingping’s side and therefore knew of this hidden escape route.
Lingfu activated the mechanism, agreeing to help them escape in exchange for taking him along.
Holding their lamps aloft, the group entered the passage.
It was extremely dark and narrow. The tunnel had been built when the previous dynasty constructed the palace, but it had fallen into disuse over the years. No one had maintained it, and there were no lamps inside. The air reeked of damp, decaying mold.
Xue Yunhong stumbled along, more disheveled than he had ever been in his life.
He gritted his teeth.
“I will repay today’s humiliation a hundredfold when the time comes!” he declared.
Walking behind him, Chancellor Xu heard the words. Though he remained deeply worried, he felt somewhat reassured.
What he feared most was that Xue Yunhong would lose his nerve and spend the rest of his life cowering in obscurity. If that happened, the Xu family’s century-old legacy would be destroyed along with him.
“Your Highness’s determination puts this subject at ease,” he said. “Although the Xu family is no longer as powerful as it once was, we still have troops at our disposal and a reserve of silver to meet emergencies. Your Highness need only act without hesitation. The family will give you its full support and help you return to Chang’an.”
Xue Yunhong ground his teeth. “And Xue Yan. I will make sure he dies a miserable death.”
Chancellor Xu nodded.
“Judging by our calculations, Xue Yan should not have entered the city yet. We should be able to escape safely,” he said. “Your Highness must remain cautious and not act on impulse. Once we have forged the edict and returned to Qinmen Pass, we can make further plans.”
Xue Yunhong gave a brief acknowledgment.
The group struggled onward.
The imperial compound was enormous, and the imperial study stood near its very center. Xue Yunhong walked until his legs were trembling. His robes were smeared with dirt and moss, and the hem had become filthy from being trampled underfoot, before he finally heard Lingfu’s voice.
“We’re here!” Lingfu said. “Please be patient, Your Highness. The exit is just ahead!”
Xue Yunhong felt as though the stench of mold was about to make him vomit. Hearing this, he hurriedly looked ahead.
It was still pitch-black, but Lingfu reached forward and felt for the hidden door.
“Beyond this door is a secluded corner outside the city wall,” Lingfu explained as he pushed it open. “Rest assured, Your Highness. It’s quiet and remote. No one ever comes here.”
As he spoke, the door swung open, and brilliant daylight flooded into the passage.
Even someone usually as composed as Xue Yunhong could hardly contain his impatience now. He hurried toward the light and thrust his head outside.
But before he could take his first breath of fresh air, he froze.
A chair had been placed at the entrance to the passage.
Seated in it was Xue Yan.
His legs were crossed, and one hand rested on the armrest, his fingers propping up his chin. On either side of him stood ranks of black-armored soldiers, forming an impregnable wall.
Xue Yunhong stared blankly into those amber eyes.
They were filled with impatience, as cold as ice.
“Xue Yunhong, I thought you were clever. I never imagined you could be this stupid.” The corner of Xue Yan’s lips curled into a cold, mocking smile.
“The only secret passage in the entire palace is right beside the Eastern Depot. Where exactly did you think you could run?”