Imperial Capital. Purple-Gold Palace. Upon the desk lay a towering stack of memorials. Yet Yuwen Xiu did not even cast a glance their way. There was no need; he already knew the contents well—accusations targeting the Imperial Preceptor, Jiang Li, and Lu Fan.
The carved wooden doors of the Purple-Gold Palace creaked open, breaking the eerie silence with a sudden stir. An old eunuch entered hastily, his whisking dust brush swinging restlessly. Seated upon the dragon throne, Yuwen Xiu gave the eunuch a cold look and raised a finger to his lips.
"Do not startle my Black Dragon."
Startled, the eunuch tiptoed cautiously forward.
"Have you discovered who pilfered the nine imperial edicts I drafted?" Yuwen Xiu's voice was icy, saturated with murderous intent. Though young, he considered himself patient and temperate—but this matter had utterly shattered his limits.
The eunuch knelt, inhaling deeply. "It has been uncovered. Minister He Shou bribed a junior eunuch responsible for cleaning the study to steal Your Majesty's nine decrees."
A faint chuckle escaped Yuwen Xiu as he gently stroked the Black Jiao dragon, his eyes narrowing. "And the junior eunuch?"
"Imprisoned, awaiting Your Majesty's judgment…" the eunuch lamented bitterly, the disgrace weighing heavily on the head of the eunuchs.
"Have you traced where the nine edicts were sent?"
The eunuch trembled, then after a long pause, spoke: "He Shou conspired with several ministers. Last night, he dispatched the nine imperial edicts to the old Chicheng, summoning Jiang Li to the capital."
A low, mournful laugh issued from the dragon throne.
"Decapitate the eunuch who stole the edicts and send his head to Minister He's residence."
Silence fell. Then the emperor's voice, sharp and chilling, resounded through the tranquil palace. The kneeling eunuch shuddered faintly.
—
Imperial Capital, Chancellor's Residence.
Were one to be present now, they would witness the gathering of many ministers of the Great Zhou, save for those loyal to the Imperial Preceptor. The Chancellor's Residence served as the Prime Minister's domain. Because the emperor trusted the Preceptor implicitly, the Chancellor had long been relegated to semi-retirement. The world knew of the Imperial Preceptor Kong Xiu, but paid little heed to the Chancellor's existence. Furthermore, as the Chancellors hailed from aristocratic families in the capital, the emperor deliberately curtailed their influence, favoring the Preceptor—thus the Chancellor remained obscured from public awareness.
The residence buzzed with fervor. Prime Minister Zhao Kuo, a gaunt, frail-looking man in plain robes, sat in the main hall. Around him, numerous ministers debated heatedly. These officials largely represented the capital's noble clans.
"This Lu Ping'an dares oppose us but does not enter the capital personally, only sending a coachman and a maid! Such disdain!"
"Prime Minister, we must remain cautious. Lu Ping'an of Beiluo is exceedingly cunning."
"Though the Beiluo clans are deeply rooted, he uprooted them with ruthless tactics. We cannot underestimate him!"
The ministers murmured, their words charged with anxiety.
Despite his frailty, Zhao Kuo's eyes gleamed sharply. During Yuwen Tuo's reign, he had fallen from grace; after Yuwen Tuo's demise, he had hoped for resurgence, only to be suppressed anew by Kong Xiu. Now, with Kong Xiu's precarious position, Zhao Kuo sensed his opportunity to reemerge and assert the authority of the Great Zhou Chancellor. Without Kong Xiu's support, the young emperor Yuwen Xiu was but a raw youth, destined to be manipulated by these seasoned political foxes.
"What of Minister He's affairs?" Zhao Kuo asked, turning to He Shou.
He Shou, dressed plainly, set down his teacup with a smile. "Rest assured, Prime Minister, all you commanded has been accomplished."
"Though the emperor issued nine edicts, Jiang Li would dare defy one—but nine consecutively? Not even the former Bai Feng Tian dared resist, and Jiang Li will not either."
He stroked his beard, chuckling softly.
"As for Lu Ping'an's maid and coachman arriving in the capital… it is of little consequence."
"After all, Beiluo City is Lu Ping'an's territory. But here in the capital, he is nothing. The calamity that befell the Beiluo clans cannot happen to us. Besides, he sent only a maid and a coachman."
"Lowly servants, how dare they challenge us, the high ministers of the court?" He Shou laughed.
Prime Minister Zhao Kuo applauded with a hearty laugh. The surrounding ministers whispered among themselves, echoing approval.
"Caution is paramount. The Beijun army lurks outside the Old Chicheng, and we must avoid becoming traitors to our nation." Zhao Kuo warned gravely. Heads nodded in agreement.
Unperturbed, He Shou bowed to Zhao Kuo. "Prime Minister, you worry unnecessarily."
"Though Dantai Xuan's Beijun army occupies Old Chicheng, it has withdrawn 130 li back. Why? Because of the rebellious Xiang Shaoyun's Xijun army."
"Two tigers meeting will cause injury to one. Dantai Xuan focuses on Xiang Shaoyun's forces. He dares not attack the capital now; a strike from Xiang Shaoyun would mean utter defeat, which he cannot afford."
His eyes glittered as he analyzed the situation.
"What concerns us now is the 500 cavalry Lu Ping'an has dispatched to the capital…"
"A heretic wreaking havoc in the realm, yet sending agents to the capital to judge us! Who is Lu Ping'an? He holds no legitimate rank—merely Lu Changkong's son, and yet he dares act so arrogantly!"
"In that case, we shall make an example of him. With the troops you have covertly gathered over the years, Prime Minister, eliminate Lu Ping'an's maid and coachman, shatter his nerve completely!"
"And let our young emperor understand that Lu Ping'an cannot be relied upon—only we are his true support."
He Shou slammed his palm on the table.
The ministers exchanged hesitant glances. Zhao Kuo's eyes flickered before he slowly applauded. One by one, the ministers concurred.
He Shou's lips curled in satisfaction. After a life of frustration, his later years were destined for immortal fame.
—
Old Chicheng. The Great Zhou's elite camp.
One after another, envoys rode swift steeds into the camp. The entire garrison buzzed with activity.
Jiang Li, clad in silver armor, emerged from his tent to find six envoys assembled. The emperor had issued six consecutive edicts. Dawn's first light painted the sky pale, the morning glow stretching across the horizon.
He gazed upon the envoys, memories flashing vividly: The vast desert with solitary smoke rising straight, the crimson sunset suffusing the wasteland in fiery red.
He was young then, standing beside the man he revered most, the latter sighing deeply as he gazed across the barren expanse.
Summoned by nine imperial edicts, they had no choice but to abandon pacifying the Western Rong threat. Beneath the dying sun, they ordered the burial alive of three hundred thousand Western Rong—men, women, and children alike.
Yes, Rong people, not merely soldiers. Jiang Li still recalled Bai Feng Tian's words:
"The Western Rong, Eastern Yi, Southern Man, Ghost Fang, and Peacock Kingdom—these Five Barbarians will one day threaten Great Zhou. Once they breach our borders, chaos and suffering will engulf the land. We cannot hope to pacify them in this lifetime; our only recourse is this ruthless stratagem to weaken them."
Bai Feng Tian had faced the emperor's nine edicts with profound helplessness and bitterness. Now Jiang Li confronted the same grim reality. Such was the cruel cycle of fate.
Jiang Li had read each edict personally penned by the emperor and sealed with the imperial insignia. The nine imperial edicts bore the sovereign's unwavering resolve.
Clad in silver armor, his cloak billowing, Jiang Li stared toward Old Chicheng, envisioning the dense Beijun army arrayed beyond its walls.
As dawn's light surged over the horizon, bathing Old Chicheng in crimson, three more couriers galloped in, bearing three additional edicts.
Jiang Li ceased his resistance. Removing his armor, he knelt on one knee and accepted the nine imperial edicts.
Before departing, he found Chi Lian and said,
"Take Qingniao and leave Zuilong City."
Chi Lian was taken aback. "Leave Zuilong? Where to?"
Jiang Li glanced back at Zuilong City, faintly seeing the girl busy in the kitchen brewing chicken soup, his gaze tinged with reluctance.
"To Beiluo. Seek Lu Shaozhu there. It is undoubtedly the safest place under heaven. I only wish for that girl's safety."
Jiang Li left. Amid the reluctant gazes of the clumsy armored troops and under the guidance of the nine envoys, he mounted his steed and rode straight for the capital.
—
Five hundred cavalry, led by Luo Cheng, shattered the sunlight with their charge.
Nie Changqing sat solemnly in the carriage, a butcher's cleaver resting quietly beside him.
Within the carriage, Ning Zhao and Yi Yue sat cross-legged, eyes closed, cultivating immortal arts.
The gates of the imperial capital opened wide. Guards atop the walls cast strange, wary glances at the five hundred cavalry and carriage arriving from Beiluo.
No one came forth to welcome them. Once the cavalry entered, the gates were shut and barred.
Luo Cheng tightened his grip on the reins, scanning the deserted streets. The capital's bustling thoroughfares were now a ghost town, as if a city of the dead. A faint aura of deadly intent permeated the air.
The horses snorted nervously.
"Commander Luo, be cautious." Ning Zhao's voice came from within the carriage.
Luo Cheng slowly drew his long blade; the five hundred cavalry did likewise.
Within the carriage, Nie Changqing opened his eyes, a disdainful curl upon his lips.
Meanwhile, atop the capital's premier establishment—the Wangxiang Tower—fine food and wine were arranged meticulously.
He Shou, dressed plainly, sat with several similarly attired ministers, chatting and laughing.
A soldier entered, whispering in He Shou's ear. He smiled, then turned to the ministers.
"Gentlemen, the show is about to begin."
He raised his wine cup.
Outside, the city's silence deepened, and the shadow of war loomed ever larger.