Jun Huailang and Xue Yan rode hard all the way, arriving at Qin Commandery just as dawn was breaking that morning.
Qin Commandery was the last administrative region outside Chang’an. Beyond it lay the capital itself. As the final line of defense before Chang’an, Qin Commandery had always maintained stricter security than other regions, and its officials were generally much better informed.
As they traveled north, they had been able to pass freely through the other commanderies simply by virtue of Xue Yan’s identity as the Prince of Guangling.
But Qin Commandery was different. Xue Yan was still officially an imperial envoy whom the Emperor had previously dispatched south. Without an imperial edict, he could not simply return to Chang’an at will. Even if the garrison and officials of Qin Commandery were incapable of stopping him, news of his return would be sent to the capital immediately.
If their suspicions were correct, the troops from Qinmen Pass would already be stationed outside Chang’an. Any message sent to the capital would inevitably pass through them first. Once they received the news, they would be on their guard. Whether they could successfully attack them was another matter, but if they were driven into a corner and charged into Chang’an, the consequences would be unimaginable.
This was precisely what worried Jun Huailang.
The closer they came to Qin Commandery, the heavier his concerns became. Yet they could not afford to leave Chang’an unattended, and Qin Commandery was an unavoidable stop along the way.
Jun Huailang therefore said nothing to Xue Yan about his worries, quietly working out a plan on his own.
Once they reached Qin Commandery, they would first negotiate with the local officials and find out what kind of person governed the region, as well as his attitude toward the sudden upheaval in the capital.
If they could reach an understanding and pass through without obstruction, that would be ideal. If not, they could use the opportunity to see whether persuasion or inducements might work. If the other party was already aligned with the Xu family, then they would have no choice but to kill him. The Jinyiwei should certainly be capable of handling such a task…
Thinking through these possibilities along the way, they soon arrived outside Qin Commandery.
By then, the sky had brightened considerably, and the city gates were already open. Outside them, commoners and merchants came and went, while a large contingent of soldiers maintained a strict guard.
The group halted several yards from the gates.
“You’ve barely said a word all morning,” Xue Yan remarked, reining in his horse and turning toward him. “What’s on your mind?”
Jun Huailang shook his head and smiled. “I was just thinking about how we should get through Qin Commandery.”
He had already considered all sorts of possibilities and worked out ways to deal with them. At this point, he felt reasonably confident that he could handle whatever came their way.
Xue Yan raised an eyebrow in puzzlement.
“What is there to think about?” he asked.
As he spoke, he casually lifted his riding crop, signaling for a Jinyiwei officer beside them to come forward.
Immediately, one of the Jinyiwei urged his horse toward the city gate at a brisk trot.
He exchanged a few words with one of the guards. The guard nodded hastily and hurried up to the gate tower. Before long, a commanding officer appeared, accompanied by that same soldier, and made his way toward Xue Yan.
Xue Yan sat on his horse and waited calmly for him to approach.
“Your Highness!” Reaching the horse, the commanding officer clasped his fists and gave a proper military salute. “It has been a long time since I last saw Your Highness. You look even more distinguished than you did back in Yan Commandery!”
Only then did Jun Huailang understand why Xue Yan had remained so composed, without the slightest trace of worry.
The commanding officer of Qin Commandery must have been one of Xue Yan’s former subordinates from Yan Commandery.
Xue Yan responded with a casual hum. “I am returning to Chang’an. Make the necessary arrangements.”
Emperor Qingping had only met with disaster the previous night. Officials in other regions might not yet know what had happened, but the senior officials of Qin Commandery certainly would.
At the mention of Chang’an, the commanding officer’s expression turned grave.
“Your Highness, do you know what happened in Chang’an last night?”
Jun Huailang was startled and immediately turned to look at Xue Yan.
He saw Xue Yan’s brows slowly draw together.
“What happened in Chang’an?” he asked after a brief pause.
The commanding officer glanced around before moving closer to Xue Yan and lowering his voice.
“The news only arrived a short while ago. His Majesty was poisoned. The poison has taken effect, leaving him a living corpse who can do nothing but breathe… Early this morning, the assembled ministers pushed the Fourth Prince onto the throne. They are about to formally appoint him Crown Prince.”
As he spoke, the commanding officer himself found the situation rather puzzling.
The events had only occurred the previous night, and even Qin Commandery had only just received the news. Xue Yan was far away in Jiangnan. How could he have set out for Chang’an several days in advance?
The commanding officer hesitated before looking at him.
“Your Highness, surely you weren’t summoned back to the capital by His Majesty?”
Xue Yan did not answer immediately.
The man looked up at him and saw him sitting on horseback, holding the reins with an expressionless face.
The only visible signs of his emotions were his tightly pressed lips and the sharp line of his jaw, clenched like the edge of a blade.
The commanding officer did not dare say another word.
Jun Huailang, riding beside them, was also watching Xue Yan.
He could tell that Xue Yan was holding himself back, suppressing a mixture of anger and self-reproach.
During their journey over the past few days, both of them had already formed their suspicions. The Xu family had gone to great lengths to station the troops of Qinmen Pass outside Chang’an. The only thing they could be preparing for was a coup backed by overwhelming military force.
But although surrounding Chang’an would be easy enough, storming the imperial palace would require careful planning. It would not be something they could accomplish so effortlessly.
Even if they moved as quickly as possible, they could not complete the entire plan in just a day or two.
That meant they still had enough time to reach the capital and suppress the rebels before the Xu family could finish their preparations, openly break with Emperor Qingping, and launch a full-scale assault on Chang’an.
What they had never anticipated, however, was that the Xu family would resort to poisoning.
No one would dare attempt such a thing inside the imperial palace without absolute confidence in the plan, especially when the target was the Emperor himself.
They had never imagined this turn of events. Jun Huailang knew that Xue Yan blamed himself for it.
Carefully, he reached out and tugged at Xue Yan’s sleeve.
Xue Yan was a beat slow in turning back toward him.
Jun Huailang met his eyes and blinked at him reassuringly, looking at him in quiet support.
Xue Yan paused, then gave him a slight nod.
The commanding officer waiting beside their horses had not noticed Jun Huailang’s subtle gesture. He only saw Xue Yan turn around, apparently exchanging a glance with the person behind him. When Xue Yan faced him again, however, something about his entire presence seemed different.
As a straightforward military man, the commanding officer could not quite identify what had changed. But he could feel it.
The Prince of Guangling, who had moments ago radiated an aura of barely contained fury and danger, suddenly seemed much less intimidating.
The oppressive force that had nearly made it difficult for him to breathe had inexplicably dissipated.
Looking up, the commanding officer heard Xue Yan answer his earlier question.
“I know,” Xue Yan said. “I anticipated that something like this might happen, which is precisely why I am returning to the capital. Make the necessary arrangements. I intend to leave immediately.”
The commanding officer understood at once what Xue Yan intended to do.
The Emperor had suddenly been poisoned, and the Fourth Prince, who had not even previously held a place in the central court, had been abruptly elevated to the throne. Even from outside Chang’an, the commanding officer had learned enough over the past year or so to know that, of all the possible candidates, who else was more deserving of that position than the prince standing before him?
Now that His Highness was returning to Chang’an, he naturally intended to reclaim everything that had belonged to him in the first place.
The commanding officer’s eyes lit up.
“This subordinate will make the arrangements immediately! Your Highness, please follow me!”
By noon, after traveling straight through Qin Commandery, the group had reached the outskirts of Chang’an.
Just as expected, as they approached from a distance, they saw large numbers of troops stationed outside several of the capital’s gates.
If the soldiers were merely waiting for the order to march, they would naturally have gathered together in one place rather than spreading out like this.
Instead, they were stationed at every gate in overwhelming numbers. Each gate was tightly shut, with only a small side entrance left open for people to come and go. Everyone entering or leaving the city was subjected to a strict search, and their clothing and luggage were inspected repeatedly.
Even those who had nothing suspicious on them were required to pay a substantial sum of money before being allowed through.
These troops were behaving with astonishing arrogance.
When they had been stationed at Qinmen Pass, they had never been particularly well supplied, nor had they seen much action. They had lived off their meager military provisions and pay.
Now, however, they had arrived in Chang’an. Their commanding general was the son of the illustrious Left Chancellor, whose reputation was renowned throughout the capital. By extension, the Fourth Prince now seated on the dragon throne was their general’s nephew.
All they had to do was remain stationed outside the city, inspect everyone coming and going, and turn Chang’an into an impregnable iron barrel, sealing it so tightly that not even a drop of water could escape. Once the Fourth Prince successfully ascended to the position of Crown Prince, they would have earned the merit of helping a new ruler rise to power.
After that, promotions, noble titles, generous rewards, and handsome stipends would all be theirs for the taking.
It was no wonder that every military camp outside Chang’an was filled with an air of smug self-importance.
Without revealing their intentions, Xue Yan, Jun Huailang, and their companions rode along the outskirts of Chang’an, heading north until they finally stopped near a stretch of hills.
Xue Yan reined in his horse, and the group slowed to a halt.
“Have we arrived?” Jun Huailang asked.
Xue Yan looked ahead.
From a distance, the hills appeared completely empty. But he knew that the surviving Yanyun Cavalry—the force that had remained after the Yanyun campaign three years ago—was waiting there.
He had grown up in the Yanyun Cavalry’s military camps for as long as he could remember.
The Yanyun Cavalry wore black armor and carried black-and-gold banners. In the vast expanses of white snow covering Yan during winter, the black and gold of their ranks spread across the mountains and plains. That was the scene that had been etched into Xue Yan’s memories since childhood.
He turned his head to look at Jun Huailang.
Riding beside him, Jun Huailang was gazing ahead, searching for signs of the army.
Xue Yan knew that the black-and-gold ranks, which had lain dormant for three long years, were quietly concealed among those hills.
An unusual stirring spread through his heart.
He had never had a permanent home growing up. Yet now, he felt as though he had brought Jun Huailang back to his own home.
The feeling made his heart race uncontrollably.
“Give me your hand,” he suddenly said to Jun Huailang.
Not understanding what he meant, Jun Huailang released one hand from the reins and reached it toward him.
Despite the distance between their two horses, Xue Yan caught his hand and clasped it firmly in his palm.
Jun Huailang was startled and immediately tried to pull away.
He struggled several times without success. Instead, Xue Yan held his hand as they rode side by side for a little while before finally letting him go with a laugh.
Jun Huailang hurriedly withdrew his hand. He was about to glare at Xue Yan when he caught sight of the smile on his face.
The ease in that smile, as though Xue Yan had finally found somewhere he belonged, was unmistakably genuine.
Jun Huailang swallowed the reprimand that had been about to leave his lips.
“…Don’t fool around like that again,” he said quietly after a moment.
Xue Yan answered with a smile.
“In a little while, I’ll show you what my Yanyun Cavalry looks like,” he said.
Jun Huailang nodded in agreement, then voiced the concern he had been holding inside.
“From what I saw just now, even the few gates we passed had enormous numbers of troops stationed outside them. By my estimate, their total strength must be no less than a hundred thousand.”
Hearing this, Xue Yan turned to glance back toward the outskirts of Chang’an.
In the distance, they could see the nearest military camp outside one of the city gates. Although it was not yet noon, the soldiers had already begun preparing their meal.
Xue Yan gave a disdainful, cold laugh.
What was there to fear from this bunch of soldiers who had grown soft and useless while stationed at Qinmen Pass? Even if their numbers were three to five times greater, what difference would it make?
He turned back toward Jun Huailang, leaned over from his saddle, and brushed his knuckle against Jun Huailang’s cheek.
“They’re nothing to worry about,” he said.