The earth was damp with the sweltering heat of summer, and cicadas chirred incessantly. On both sides of the Vermilion Bird Avenue, the dense shadows of locust and elm trees blanketed the ground.
A blazing sun rose in the east, casting a golden glow across the sky. As the morning light poured down, the thunderous beat of street drums echoed from the Tianjie Gate Tower, reverberating far and wide. The bells and drums from gate towers in all directions joined in, merging into a majestic, earth-shaking wave of sound.
Yet today, even louder than the drums was the clamor of the crowd.
Vermilion Bird Avenue was packed shoulder to shoulder, a sea of humanity.
The news of Princess Wenzhao’s return to the capital had set all of Chang’an ablaze with excitement.
People poured out of their homes, rushing frantically toward the square. Scions of noble families, court officials and minor clerks, young men who had once admired the princess for her beauty and grace, commoners who had received her kindness—men and women, young and old—none wanted to be left behind. Dressed in their brightest attire, they crammed the long avenue until it was impassable.
"Is Princess Wenzhao on horseback or in a carriage? Will she be able to see us?"
"I heard her consort is the ruler of a foreign land called the Royal Court. Is he returning with the princess?"
"I’ve heard the consort was once a monk! A Buddha Prince!"
"They say the consort is as handsome as jade, a celestial being descended to earth—a perfect match for the princess!"
Amid the noisy chatter, the sound of fluttering banners rose from the far end of the freshly swept avenue.
The crowd grew wildly excited, jostling and standing on tiptoe, straining to catch a glimpse.
In the hazy morning light, shadowy figures emerged from the thin mist.
The first thing they saw were rows of banners fluttering in the wind—stern black and stark white, densely inscribed with characters. The soldiers carrying them wore light armor and white robes, their expressions solemn and stern.
The crowd fell silent in bewilderment.
These were not the banners of the Royal Court, nor those of the Western Army.
They were spirit banners, each inscribed with the names of the deceased, their long streamers also covered in writing.
Column after column marched forward in an endless procession, the sound of the banners filling the sky.
Then came the rumble of wheels and hooves, as one carriage after another followed the spirit banners through the gate tower.
When the crowd realized what the wooden tablets on those carriages represented, the murmurs and exclamations died away abruptly.
A heavy silence fell over the square.
Yang Qian and Yang Nianxiang, clad in armor and holding tallies and a map, walked beside the carriages with heavy steps, their handsome features stern and solemn.
Beside and behind them, carriage after carriage carrying ashes and memorial tablets slowly made their way down the main avenue.
Some of these tablets had been inscribed by Yang Qian himself. Their bearers came from all walks of life—some were his clansmen, some were commoners who had once knelt weeping at his feet, begging to know if their petitions had reached Chang’an, some were comrades who had fought alongside him, and many more were strangers he had never met.
Yet they all shared one common wish: to reclaim their lost lands and return east to their homeland.
For this cause, some had waited in bitter hope for decades, some had done everything in their power to support the Western Army, and some had laid down their brushes to take up arms, resisting fiercely until they fell beneath enemy blades.
Princess Wenzhao had erected these tablets to preserve their names. Today, she was bringing them home. They would be laid to rest in their ancestral lands, their spirits returning to their roots.
Silence enveloped both sides of the avenue.
No one dared make a sound to disturb the departed. Tears glistened in their eyes as they gazed quietly at the rows of memorial tablets on the carriages.At this moment, what moved before them was not carriages bearing spirit tablets and ashes, but thousands upon thousands of common people who had been captured during the turmoil of war, torn from their homeland, endured immense suffering, and yearned to return to their roots after death. It was the souls of countless heroes who had sacrificed their lives, shedding blood and giving their heads for the eastern return of their people.
Among them were the elderly, children, men, and women; impoverished farmers and spirited young scions of noble families. They were no different from the citizens of Chang'an. Forced to sever ties with their homeland, they wandered destitute, bowing repeatedly toward the east in distant homage, praying for the imperial army to reclaim lost lands so they could return home.
Souls, return.
Come back, wandering solitary spirits.
Come back, young heroes who sacrificed yourselves leading your people eastward against oppression.
You have come home.
Look, the Western Regions have been pacified, the Hexi Corridor is clear—you have finally returned to the homeland you dreamed of day and night, bringing solace to the departed souls.
Henceforth, from the vast and fertile Central Plains to the harsh, severe snow-capped plateaus, there will be no more war or slaughter. Farmers will shoulder hoes to plow fields and sow crops, merchants will ride carts laden with silk and jewels traveling east and west, herders will leisurely graze flocks of cattle and sheep across the boundless grasslands. Han, Hu, northerners, southerners, Buddhists, Daoists, Zoroastrians, Manichaeans—all will live in harmony, jointly creating an era of peace and prosperity.
Your descendants will lead stable lives. They will not, like you, live in constant peril, suffer the separation of families, or endure a lifetime of displacement.
The long wind swept by, battle flags soaring high, streamers fluttering briskly.
One by one, the spirits seemed to materialize vividly before the people's eyes—arm in arm, they walked along the bustling Suzaku Avenue, laughing in delight, marveling, sighing with emotion.
The people watched them in silent reverence.
Better a dog in times of peace than a man in times of chaos!
Upon the city tower, Li De stood solemnly beneath the flags, wearing a ceremonial crown and robes, gazing into the distance at the procession of carriages with fluttering battle flags.
Tears streamed down the people's faces. The square, once bustling with noise, fell into a stillness like calm waters, broken only by the rumble of carriage wheels along the long street and the sound of flags whipped by the spring breeze.
Li De's expression was grave.
His attendants exchanged uneasy glances behind him: they had expected the Western Army generals to escort Princess Wenzhao into the city, flaunting the Western Army's strength before Li De, giving them an opportunity to cause trouble. They never anticipated that the first to enter would be the displaced people and fallen soldiers. There was no sign of Princess Wenzhao.
In such a moment, nothing else mattered. Who would dare risk inciting public outrage to test whether the Western Army was united?
Beside the ceremonial platform below the city tower, civil and military officials watched the approaching carriages, deeply moved, remaining silent for a long time.
Young officials felt their noses tingle and eyes grow warm, their chests burning with fervor and lofty sentiments.
The elder officials exchanged quiet glances, sighing inwardly.
They still remembered the day the princess left for her marriage alliance—resplendent in magnificent attire, riding away from Chang'an in a carriage, with crowds weeping along the road to bid her farewell.
At that time, they all believed the princess would never return, that she would soon perish amid the warring tribes.
Years later, the princess returned to Chang'an bearing maps of dozens of provinces, accompanied by her retinue and followers.
A song of triumph heralds an era of peace—unlike the time when Wang Zhaojun departed the frontier.
Li De glanced at the officials below, taking in their varied expressions.
An attendant wiped his sweat and whispered, "Your Majesty, the princess has won the people's hearts completely..."Li De’s expression remained calm.
Precisely because of this, he had to be even more wary of Li Yaoying. She had the support of the people, commanded troops, had an unruly elder brother, was set to marry the King of Tanmo, and was also Li Xuanzhen’s weakness.
The Ministry of Rites officials reacted swiftly, immediately assigning newly appointed scholars with exceptional literary talent to compose impassioned eulogies on the spot, honoring the deceased.
Li De signaled his attendants to issue an imperial decree to console the provinces of the Western Regions.
Yang Qian and the Hexi generals knelt in gratitude on behalf of the displaced civilians.
The commoners in the square could not hold back their tears.
…
Yaoying rode at the rear of the procession. Officials from the Ministry of Rites came forward, repeatedly urging her to enter the city in an exquisitely decorated carriage. She shook her head and said, “I am here to escort the deceased back to their homeland. There is no need for me to make a special appearance.”
The officials were somewhat taken aback. With the day’s celebrations and the joyous return home, the grand ceremony was an opportunity for the princess to appear before the people and win their hearts. Having endured so much hardship in the Western Regions, was she truly willing to miss such a chance to shine?
Yaoying nudged her horse forward, cutting straight through their midst.
She had promised the elders and the fallen soldiers that she would escort them home, and she intended to keep her word.
Today’s focus belonged to the departed.
Under the gate tower, after the ceremonial officer announced Yaoying’s title, the young officials in the court all looked up, their faces tense with anticipation. A few of the more impatient ones even forgot decorum, craning their necks to catch a glimpse.
Countless gazes turned toward Yaoying in unison.
Among the crowd, Zheng Jing watched the long street, recalling the scene of their first meeting, and smiled faintly.
Banners fluttered in the wind as her personal guards escorted her. Yaoying rode on horseback, her hair tied with a silk ribbon, wearing a narrow-sleeved, lapel-collared brocade robe. Her demeanor was valiant and heroic as she galloped to the foot of the steps, dismounted gracefully, and ascended under the watchful eyes of civil and military officials. She first accepted the incense offered by Yang Qian, bowed toward the sacrificial altar from a distance, her gaze sharp and commanding, exuding an aura of authority.
Intimidated by her presence, the crowd stood frozen, no one daring to step forward and greet her.
The court officials stared at her in a daze. Meeting the icy gazes of her personal guards, they suddenly remembered that Princess Wenzhao was no longer the helpless seventh princess of the past. She now commanded the Western Army, governed the Western Regions, and even the Emperor could not easily interfere with her affairs.
Exchanging glances, they recalled the rumors: Li Zhongqian had secretly returned to the capital with the intent to assassinate the Emperor but was captured on the spot. As Princess Wenzhao’s blood brother, with their deep sibling bond, it was no wonder Li De had not issued an order for his execution. Keeping Li Zhongqian alive was the only way to ensure Princess Wenzhao’s compliance.
After the ceremony, a grand banquet was held in the palace to welcome the generals of the Western Army.
Yang Qian glanced around and could not help but ask, “Why is the Crown Prince not here?”
An official replied, “The Crown Prince is leading troops outside the capital and has not yet returned.”
Yaoying’s seat was to the left of Li De. She paid no attention to the music and dance, instead lifting her wine cup and stepping forward to speak bluntly: “Your Majesty, where is my elder brother? Is he alive or dead?”
Li De smiled. After all these years, she remained as direct as ever, never engaging in empty pleasantries with him, and still deeply sentimental, willing to take risks for Li Zhongqian.
He had not disclosed the identity of the assassin and could execute him in secret at any time. She had no way to force his hand. Knowing full well that Chang’an was a trap, she had no choice but to walk right into it.
“You have been away from the Central Plains for a long time. Stay a few more days, and you will naturally see your brother.”
Yaoying replied calmly, “As long as Li Zhongqian is safe, I can stay. But you must let me see him first.”
Li De gestured to the attendant beside him.The eunuch withdrew and soon returned carrying a sword, tilting the hilt to show Yaoying the engraved characters.
"Li Zhongqian is still alive."
For now.
Recognizing Li Zhongqian's personal sword, Yaoying lowered her gaze, drained the remaining wine in her cup, and returned to her seat. Young officials continuously lingered near her seat, hoping to strike up a conversation, but seeing her preoccupied expression, they ultimately dared not be presumptuous and withdrew.
Only a few officials with distinctly different accents approached Yaoying, toasting her with extreme reverence and introducing themselves: "Your Highness, we are from Southern Chu."
They listed their official positions—all were Southern Chu ministers who had been sent to Chang'an after Southern Chu's surrender.
Yaoying grew wary and glanced at Li De, thinking he would expose her background on the spot.
Li De seemed not to notice the surrendered Southern Chu officials. He stood up to speak with Yang Qian and others, maintaining authority while showing approachability. Several young generals flushed with excitement, unable to conceal their emotions.
Yaoying did not engage further with the Southern Chu officials, pleading intoxication to excuse herself early from the banquet.
Li De did not stop her, only sending someone to deliver Li Zhongqian's sword to her with the message: "Your Highness now holds an esteemed position, and the Duke of Wei is your elder brother. His Majesty will not harm him, but you must exercise caution in words and deeds to avoid causing trouble that could endanger the Duke."
Understanding Li De's implication, Yaoying secluded herself, declining all invitations for conversations, tea, incense offerings, or flower viewings. She remained in the posthouse day after day, never stepping beyond its gates.
Li De had Yaoying monitored. After several days confirming that Tanmoroqie was not accompanying her, that she had no Royal Court guards with her, and that there were no traces of Royal Court personnel near Chang'an, he continued investigations, ordering immediate reports of any Royal Court movements.
Only after verifying that Yaoying had not secretly arranged any contacts did he send her a message: to see Li Zhongqian, she must first go to Ci'en Temple. The message included a dew-collecting pouch Li Zhongqian often carried, embroidered with paired beasts by Yaoying's own hand.
Yaoying went to Ci'en Temple with Xie Qing. After offering incense and prayers, she exchanged a few words with the abbot, received a second instruction, left the temple, and headed straight to the detached palace outside the city.
Li De had actually imprisoned Li Zhongqian in the detached palace.
Following a eunuch through winding corridors, she entered a narrow, cramped secret passage. When the door opened, a man in the corner looked up, pushing aside his disheveled hair.
"Elder Brother!"
Her heart burning with anxiety yet faintly relieved, Yaoying rushed over, raising her hand to strike him—"You..."
After a moment of locking eyes with the man, her expression froze, cold sweat breaking out on her back.
The man's features somewhat resembled Li Zhongqian's.
But he was not Li Zhongqian.
Xie Qing frowned and immediately drew his blade. Yaoying stood up, quickly retreating from the passage, and scanned the surroundings.
All exits were heavily guarded by Golden Guard soldiers, with shadowy figures lurking atop the walls—ambushes set in place.
Yaoying pressed Xie Qing's hand down and calmly asked, "Where is His Majesty?"
The eunuch smiled and led her to the Buddha hall, Golden Guard members following closely with long blades never leaving her side.
The cold glint of steel reflected on her face, but her expression remained unchanged as she signaled Xie Qing to sheathe his blade.
In the Buddha hall, statues were enshrined, sandalwood incense hung rich in the air, and candles flickered. Li De sat cross-legged before the Buddha, leaning against a hidden cushion, his head wrapped in a scarf, face pale and appearance aged.Yaoying stepped into the Buddhist hall. "Did Your Majesty go to such great lengths just to trap me? If anything happens to me in Chang'an, the Western Regions that have just been pacified will fall into chaos again. You cannot kill me, so what use is trapping me?"
Li De's gaze rested on her face. "If I don't trap you, how can I lure out Li Zhongqian?"
Yaoying smiled mockingly.
The assassination attempt at Qujiang Pond had been arranged by Li De. He knew her weakness—making the world believe Li Zhongqian had attempted public assassination to lure her to the capital, then using her as bait to draw out Li Zhongqian, so he could threaten her with him.
"How could Your Majesty be certain I would take the bait?"
Li De looked at the half-rolled bamboo curtain. "From the moment I provoked Li Zhongqian into returning to the capital, your every reaction has been within my expectations. I cut off your communication with Li Zhongqian and deliberately leaked information. Unable to find him and desperate to save him, you would come even knowing it was a trap."
"Where is my brother?" Yaoying walked to the Buddha statue and tossed an incense cake into the bronze censer shaped like an animal head. "How did you obtain his sword?"
"My men have been following Li Zhongqian since he returned to Gaochang. He was cautious this time, but my men tracked him all the way to Jingzhao Prefecture. Just as we were about to close the net, he escaped. However, they managed to obtain his sword and personal belongings, trapping him within the ward. He's been hiding for many days—it's time for him to show himself."
Though the Golden Guard couldn't capture Li Zhongqian, they had him cornered in the ward. He could neither send nor receive any messages. After Yaoying entered the city, Li De used her high status as pretext to have everyone approaching her residence taken for interrogation, yet still found no trace of Li Zhongqian. That Li Zhongqian could remain so patient was beyond Li De's expectations.
Now that he had lured Yaoying into the detached palace and spread the news, no matter where Li Zhongqian was hiding, he would eventually reveal himself.
From the moment Li Zhongqian decided to return to the Central Plains, both siblings were destined to fall into his trap—Li Zhongqian had to return to Chang'an. Li De couldn't tolerate their continued growth; as long as he remained on the throne, he wouldn't let them live in peace.
Between father and son, ruler and subject—it was kill or be killed. There was no other path.
Yaoying sat cross-legged opposite Li De.
Li De looked at her: "Aren't you afraid I'll kill you?"
"Everyone in Chang'an knows I've come to the detached palace. How would you explain my death to the Western Army? You can detain me, but you dare not kill me." Yaoying gazed at the lush banana trees in the courtyard.
Li De's lips curved slightly as he gestured for attendants to serve tea.
In truth, he admired Yaoying. She knew how to adapt to circumstances, understood her advantages, and could bend or stretch as needed. Unfortunately, at her core, she was too much like Xie Wuliang—such people had too many attachments.
Unlike him—ruthless and unfeeling, therefore unconstrained.
Yaoying hadn't tasted Chang'an tea in a long time. Inhaling the familiar fragrance, she said, "Your Majesty, if I take my brother back to Gaochang and never set foot in Chang'an again in this lifetime, would you let us go?"
Li De replied, "Releasing a tiger back to the mountains invites endless future troubles."
Yaoying raised her eyes.
A Golden Guard knelt outside the corridor: "Your Majesty, the messages have all been disseminated. The inner city is under strict martial law, the Western Army is under our close surveillance, and all palace gates are guarded by the imperial guards. For five days, aside from the imperial guards, no one may leave their wards without authorization.""Five days is enough." Li De nodded, glanced at Yaoying, and said, "Chang'an has become a dead city. No one can approach the detached palace except for a madman like Li Zhongqian who cares nothing for his life. Wait for him—by tomorrow night at the latest, you will see him."
Yaoying remained silent.
As the sweltering heat faded and night fell, the evening breeze rustled the broad banana leaves, carrying waves of coolness. Moonlight flowed like water, and all was silent.
Xie Qing was taken away. Yaoying sat before the Buddha statue, closing her eyes in deep thought.
In the stillness, panicked shouts suddenly erupted. Shadows shifted all around as black-clad imperial guards emerged from every corner of the deserted courtyard. Their footsteps pattered like sudden rain, rushing through the corridors to surround the Buddha hall.
Yaoying opened her eyes.
Several lanterns approached from afar. Li De, draped in a heavy cloak, stood at the entrance, his face pale and ashen: "Li Zhongqian will come to rescue you tonight. Come with me."
Yaoying sneered, rose, and followed him.
The elegantly scattered pavilions and towers of the detached palace were already shrouded in billowing black smoke. Flames leaped everywhere, scorching the cool moonlit night. Shouts of people and neighing of horses mingled with the cacophony of footsteps, curses, and rebukes. The air was thick with ash from the raging fire.
Guards ran from all directions to report: "Your Majesty, there are troops approaching from the south!"
"Enemy attacks from the north as well!"
"And the east!"
A shower of arrows fell from the sky.
Li De did not even furrow his brow, commanding with calm assurance. He led Yaoying up to the highest drum tower and ordered the guards to light bonfires, illuminating the tower from top to bottom.
The blazing torches devoured the night. Amid the spreading black smoke, several troops charged toward the detached palace from three directions, only to be intercepted and slaughtered by the well-prepared imperial guards.
Li De scanned the surroundings, listening to the intermittent sounds of battle carried by the night wind: "They are all Han people. Why haven’t the Royal Court come to rescue you?"
Yaoying gazed intently at the occasional glints of silver armor flashing in the darkness, her eyes tinged with mockery: "Does Your Majesty truly believe the Royal Court would intervene?"
Li De had indeed thought so. He had stationed guards at all key entry points to the capital precisely to prevent the Royal Court from interfering. If even one person from the Royal Court appeared at the detached palace tonight, he would seize the opportunity to accuse Tanmoroqie and Li Yaoying of collusion and harboring ill intentions.
"Your Majesty worries too much. The matters between you, me, and my brother need not involve the Royal Court, lest it disrupt the alliance between our two nations."
Yaoying’s tone was indifferent.
Li De fell silent for a moment. "Yang Qian hasn’t come either. The Western Army generals are all holed up and inactive. Aren’t you the least bit surprised?"
Yaoying smiled faintly. "I suppose when I came to the detached palace, Your Majesty revealed my origins to the Western Army?"
He not only intended to lure Li Zhongqian out but also to frame the Royal Court, aiming to purge the Western Army of generals loyal to her in one fell swoop.
Li De nodded. "Even if you are not my biological daughter, the Western Army would still honor you. But you are from Southern Chu. Remnants of Southern Chu still hide in the deep mountains, refusing to submit. Now that the realm is unified, the prominent families of Hexi wish to return to the court and restore their former glory. They do not want to associate with the remnants of Southern Chu. Your identity is no longer suitable to be their leader."
"Seventh Lady, such is the way of the world. Do not overestimate people’s hearts."
Yaoying scoffed.
The fire raged on.
OpenNovel