Tantai Hu understood this battle was hard to win, spat a mouthful of saliva, and cursed: “Dog thief, old and cunning, actually using such despicable methods!”
Shao Chengbi was unmoved by the insults, looked at Tantai Hu, and continued: “The soldiers followed you into battle, entrusting their lives to you. Right now you have no chance of victory. If you stubbornly resist, you are disregarding the safety of the soldiers. Tantai Hu, this old man is an old acquaintance of your elder brother. I will advise you one more time—quickly abandon darkness and submit to righteousness.”
“Fuck your mother’s dog shit,” Tantai Hu leaned on his blade and stood up, coldly saying, “I followed the prefect in fighting the frontier sand cavalry, and at the end I have to surrender to you people? Pah! I, Tantai Hu, cannot bend this waist.”
As soon as his words fell, Xu Yu heard a whistle arrow shot from the watchtower. The whistle pierced straight through the night, especially piercing. Xu Yu had long heard that Zhongbo’s roads were smooth and relay stations were everywhere, and guessed that Tantai Hu was sending a message.
Xu Yu immediately urged: “Governor, this is not the time to hesitate, decide quickly!”
“You want armed conflict, but we are showing mercy.” Shao Chengbi gripped the hilt of his blade. “Capture the leader among thieves—kill Tantai Hu, and we can win without fighting tonight.”
As the words fell, the Du troops surged in, and the garrison troops were unable to resist, only able to flee in disorder. Yu Xiao Zai saw Tantai Hu alone and surrounded, about to be trapped, when suddenly several quail calls came from outside the camp.
Quail?
Where would Zhongbo have quail?
In a flash, at the moment Shao Chengbi drew his new blade, Yu Xiao Zai shouted holding his head: “Old Tiger, roll once!”
Tantai Hu originally did not want to roll, but just as he was preparing to charge forward, a sudden pain struck his knee, and his whole body “plopped” and fell down. His face hit the ground. Before he could steady himself, a nearby military tent suddenly collapsed, smashing the Du soldiers in front of him.
Trebuchet!
Tantai Hu subconsciously thought the border cavalry had arrived, but then he reconsidered and showed joy: “Imperial army!”
Under the firelight, Xu Yu saw troops pouring out from the eastern side of the camp and could not help but think: this is bad. The fire outside suddenly rose greatly—Imperial troops had brought all the trebuchets from the Zizhou armory. They had been waiting for a long time, precisely to strike the Du army tonight. In an instant the situation reversed. Shao Chengbi wanted to retreat, but the rear escape route had already been cut off. Xu Yu said to Shao Chengbi: “Governor, we have fallen into a trap!”
The collapsed tent knocked over torches, and sparks surged upward. The Du army’s light cavalry numbered only a few hundred, and in their panicked retreat they ran directly into the Imperial troops flanking from behind.
When Tantai Hu saw the Imperial troops, he was like seeing his own mother, and propped himself up to stand, joyfully saying: “Damn it, Qiao Tianya!”
Shao Chengbi heard this name and turned back in the firelight. His slightly loose hair bun let down strands of white hair, covering his blind eye. His faintly hunched back was not robust, and in the night looked like a sudden slanted mountain.
“Uncle Shao.” Qiao Tianya’s hand on the blade slid down and rested on the hilt of a sword he did not easily draw. After a pause: “—Master.”
In an instant, past events surfaced, and just as quickly dissolved into the long night. Qiao Tianya had entered Shao Chengbi’s discipleship at age four; the sword he had taken when leaving Jindu was also given by Shao Chengbi.
Shao Chengbi had no sword. He slowly drew out that brand-new blade and looked at Qiao Tianya, rasping: “Rebels must be executed.”
Huo Lingyun rode rapidly across the starry wilderness. He passed through vast wild grasses and rushed toward Dengzhou. At the city gate he raised his waist token and shouted: “Open the gate!”
The suspended gate of Dengzhou slammed down. Huo Lingyun rushed through the passage, dismounted, then quickly climbed the city wall. He grabbed a torch from the side and dispelled the darkness in front of him, looking ahead while breathing heavily. The ridges of Tianfei Que lay silent in the deep night; the urgent report had said the eastern guard army was missing.
Huo Lingyun asked the city defender: “Has the beacon tower shown any movement?”
The defender replied: “Everything as usual.”
Huo Lingyun’s back was soaked from the road. He wiped the sweat from his face, returned the torch to the defender, and said: “Strengthen vigilance.”
Dark clouds covered the moon, stars withered—good things pass in an instant. In the clash of blades and swords, sparks flew. The moment Shao Chengbi fell from his horse, victory and defeat were already decided. His blade was broken, and so was the master-disciple bond with Qiao Tianya. The camp was set ablaze by overturned torches. The Du troops were in chaos; they were not skilled in infantry combat and were no match for the Imperial troops.
Shao Chengbi was also not Qiao Tianya’s match.
Qiao Tianya stood only a few steps from Shao Chengbi. His sword was sheathed in the firelight; his turned body was covered by overlapping chaotic shadows. In that blur, he strangely resembled Shao Chengbi when he had just drawn his blade.
“This battle is destined to fail,” Qiao Tianya said softly in the crackling fire, “Master did not come to execute me.”
Shao Chengbi clutched his chest, struggling for breath. His pale lips trembled: “I am already this old… no longer as brave as before… I came to see you… your father did wrong… I also did wrong… this battle… I repay your father… a debt… Shen… did not fail the Grand Tutor’s words…”
Qiao Tianya looked at Shao Chengbi.
But Shao Chengbi refused to look at Qiao Tianya. His hoarse voice sounded like a broken drum. In his final moments he murmured: “Qiao Songyue, good son.”
Qiao Tianya gripped the sword hilt tightly, standing motionless amid flying ash, letting dust fall over him, covering his shoulders in mess. The day he entered the Shao family as a disciple, Shao Chengbi had once patted his head and said these words: “Qiao Songyue, good son.”
Tantai Hu, dragging his body, whistled at Qiao Tianya and threw over a newly captured bronze fire spear.
“Except for the dozen or so equipped for light cavalry,” Tantai Hu said with a strange expression, “the rest are all broken.”
Chi Zhuyin stood on the beacon tower of Tianfei Que, overlooking the winding mountains. This night was like a rising tide, not only trapping her, but also trapping Qiantong. She had stood here countless times alone, watching over the Five Prefectures.
Seeing her solitary back, Chi Weizuo couldn’t help but call: “Commander…”
In that call, Chi Zhuyin thought of her conversation with Hua Xiangyi before departure.
Hua Xiangyi sat across from her. White flowers at her temple were hidden among raven-colored hair, like floating on clear water—unobtrusive, yet giving her grace. She brewed tea and said: “Jindu is pressing so urgently; it seems success or failure depends on this one move.”
Chi Zhuyin watched her make tea, her delicate hands holding the sand kettle. Strangely, as long as Hua Xiangyi was present, the chaos outside seemed to disappear. She always made Chi Zhuyin think of the pleasure of rouge and femininity.
“I saw you preparing troops, so I wanted to drink tea with you once more.”
“Farewell tea?” Chi Zhuyin asked.
Boiling water poured onto tea leaves, and thin streams produced curling white vapor.
Hua Xiangyi said: “Detaining tea.”
The atmosphere tightened slightly. Chi Zhuyin pressed her hand against her knee, as if preparing to stand.
“The Commander’s expedition is to block Shen Zechuan from moving west, keeping him in Zhongbo so he does not contend with the Li clan. But I see your action is nothing more than covering ears and stealing a bell—neither beneficial to the people,” Hua Xiangyi pushed the tea toward the other side of the small table and looked at Chi Zhuyin, “and it departs from your original intention.”
Chi Zhuyin stopped moving.
Green window gauze reflected banana leaves, blocking part of the sunlight, making Hua Xiangyi seem like she was sitting in a painting. She said to Chi Zhuyin: “Jindu is short on grain, and the granaries of eight cities are empty. You refuse to follow Xiao Chiye eastward because you are diligent in sparing soldiers and suffering people. But today you aid the Li clan—how is that different from militarism?”
“The shackles of the aristocratic families have been broken, Jindu is at a time of upheaval,” Chi Zhuyin spoke frankly, “Da Zhou still has a chance to turn things around. But if Shen Zechuan marches into Jindu, that chance will be gone.”
Hua Xiangyi said: “I know the accounts of eight cities best. The ‘chance’ the Commander speaks of is not the chance of Da Zhou or the world’s people, but only the chance of the empress.”
Chi Zhuyin slightly froze.
“The legitimacy of the Li clan has long been severed since Li Jianheng. I do not know who sits on the throne now. When my aunt was alive, she said Li Jingtai resembled Emperor Guangcheng, but Xue Xiuzhuo insists she is Prince Qin’s daughter. The Zhongbo proclamation is not wrong—if she truly is Prince Qin’s bloodline, why does Xue Xiuzhuo not produce the royal proof? If he is so certain, why not convince the world?”
When Emperor Xiande was still on the throne, Hua Xiangyi was called “Third Sister” by him, and all her belongings were arranged according to princess rank. Even Li Jianheng had to call her “sister,” and Li Jingtai should call her aunt. Now that the Empress Dowager has passed, if anyone can prove Li Jingtai’s identity, it is Hua Xiangyi.
Hua Xiangyi continued gently: “If the empress is not righteous, how can the Commander be called loyal?”
Chi Zhuyin held the teacup; ripples rose on the surface. She said: “If she can bring stability to the people, then assisting her is loyalty.”
“If so, the Commander should assist Shen Zechuan instead.” Hua Xiangyi finally revealed sharpness in her soft tone, yet still returned to form of address, “A’Yin, you have shared hardship with Xiao Jiming and old ties with Lu Guangbai. If you assist Li Jingtai, these two will inevitably draw blades against you—that is one. Shen Zechuan and Xiao Chiye jointly control military and administration in the northeast. If you attack Dengzhou, Shen Zechuan’s retreat is minor, but Xiao Chiye’s defeat is major. Long campaigns are difficult; without Shen Zechuan, the ninety thousand iron cavalry will surely fail. When that happens, border cavalry will return, and the people of the three eastern regions will suffer again. Your loyalty today will cause the people who look forward to peace to suffer again—that is two. Li Jingtai granting you the title ‘Eastern Fierce King’ is not gratitude but pressure. As the saying goes, when water is full it overflows, when the moon is full it wanes. If you truly pacify Zhongbo, when Jindu stabilizes and you are a powerful vassal king with no balance from Northern Li, she can grant you power today and strip your title tomorrow—that is three. Yao Wenyu serves under Shen Zechuan, attracting talent from all over Zhongbo. Shen Zechuan not only uses old officials of Jindu like Yu Xiao Zai, but also promotes former enemy officers like Gao Zhongxiong. He does not judge by birth or past, and within a year has cleared Zhongbo of bandits and established the grain hub of the world. He is already so magnanimous in Zhongbo—when he enters Jindu, he can likewise accept capable officials in the court—that is four.”
Hua Xiangyi gently adjusted the white flower at her temple and said slowly: “All of the above—what Li Jingtai can do, Shen Zechuan can do. But what Shen Zechuan can do, Li Jingtai may not be able to.”
These four remonstrances were reasonable in both public and private sense, like a heavy blow smashing apart Chi Zhuyin’s loyalty.
Yet this was still not enough.
Hua Xiangyi’s slender fingers supporting the flower were paired with eastern pearls at her ear. Her brows showed fatigue, and her expression dimmed slightly. She spoke slowly: “A’Yin, the Grand Secretariat once said, ‘Literati die by remonstrance, warriors die by battle.’ But look—among the storms of the past twenty years, how many truly died with honor? Han Cheng wanted to install his young son as emperor, and the world would not allow it. That is not loyalty to the Li clan, but Han clan corruption. Da Zhou’s internal and external strife never ends; the one who can truly end it is no longer Li Jingtai. Shen Zechuan rises with the people’s will.” She slowly raised her eyes, looking at Chi Zhuyin as if looking at the pillar deciding the fate of the world, both admiration and pity, “At this moment, the life and death of the people depends on your one thought.”
Tea mist lingered, dispersing among the window lattice.
After long thought, Chi Zhuyin asked Chi Weizuo: “After a hundred years, will anyone remember Chi Zhuyin?”
“They will remember,” Chi Weizuo suddenly choked up, “Commander’s actions will fulfill tens of thousands of people in the world. From then on the people will live in peace and great cause will be accomplished… how could anyone not remember Chi Zhuyin?”
“My name cannot enter the history books, my tablet cannot receive offerings, and I violate the Chi clan ancestral teachings. I am truly a traitor of Da Zhou,” Chi Zhuyin looked at the mountains and rivers, “After a hundred years I will be a handful of yellow earth, a pile of rotten mud.”
Chi Weizuo knelt holding his blade and said: “If I still live after a hundred years, I will offer incense to the Commander; if I am not alive, I will have my sons, grandsons, and my entire lineage light that eternal lamp for the Commander.”
Chi Zhuyin turned back and smiled: “If so, it is worth it.”
Dancheng was close to Jindu, and court officials in the capital were anxious. Minglitang was brightly lit, and side halls were full of people. When military reports arrived, everyone listened intently.
Li Jingtai asked: “How is the battle situation?”
“Reporting to Your Majesty,” the military officer kneeling at the door was drenched in sweat, panting, “twenty thousand Du troops fell into rebel schemes, and the governor is trapped in encirclement—”
“And Eastern Fierce King?” Kong Qiu stood up.
The officer wiped sweat and replied: “The news of Eastern Fierce King’s expedition was false. The three hundred thousand garrison troops of Qiantong did not move at all!”
The teacup in Cen Yu’s hand “clattered” to the ground, and the side hall immediately erupted in noise. Eunuchs and maids panicked.
Xue Xiuzhuo said: “What about the remaining Du troops?”
“Immediately recall them!” Chen Zhen reacted quickly, stepping forward and urgently said, “Immediately withdraw the remaining Du troops back to Jindu!”
“Wait,” Xue Xiuzhuo suddenly spoke. Looking at the officer, he said deeply: “While the Du troops are retreating, issue fire tokens to the three regions of Juexi, Hezhou, and Huaizhou. Tell them the fate of the world is at this moment. Whoever can send troops to aid Jindu will be rewarded by the court with one million taels!”
One million taels—where heavy gold lies, brave men will rise.
Xue Xiuzhuo had already been forced into a dead end. The rebellion in Huaizhou had not stopped, and Hezhou still had remnants of bandits. This move was like hanging the key to the Xuan family treasury at Jindu’s gate—Shen Zechuan without Northern Li iron cavalry is not invincible. At this moment, whoever can turn the tide will become the next great noble of Da Zhou!