Chapter Seventeen: I Will! I Can! I Am Capable!

On the morning of the seventeenth day of the first lunar month, just after the hour of the Dragon, Li Yiquan and his companions had only recently departed when Li Junqian quickly composed a brief letter recounting the events of the previous day. He dispatched it to the capital via Luozhou’s exclusive messenger hawk. While Li Yi and the others were mere novices, Li Junqian was a seasoned veteran. Yesterday, his mind had been clouded by a series of misfortunes, leaving him no time to reflect; but now, with matters settled, he could finally take stock. The more he considered, the more peril he sensed looming over Li Yi’s party. Yet, as they had already left and it was too late to pursue, he could only send word to the capital, hoping His Majesty would dispatch an escort to meet them.

In Chang’an, at the Daxing Palace, Emperor Taizong was holding morning court when proceedings were abruptly interrupted.

“Your Majesty, an urgent message from Luoyang!” announced a guard, kneeling in the Hall of Supreme Harmony with a letter in hand.

At the mention of an emergency from Luoyang, both the emperor and his ministers were instantly alarmed. Luoyang, as the secondary capital of the Great Tang, was second only to Chang’an in its fortifications; if trouble had erupted there, Chang’an itself might be imperiled.

Emperor Taizong’s gaze sharpened, his tone grave. “Bring it forth!”

Eunuch Shen, Li Yi’s personal attendant, descended the steps to receive the letter from the guard and handed it to the emperor. As Taizong read, a murderous glint flashed in his eyes, and the court sensed disaster.

After a moment’s thought, the emperor commanded, “Summon Duan Zan!”

Before long, a young man in his early twenties with a resolute bearing entered the hall, knelt, and paid his respects. “Your servant Duan Zan greets Your Majesty!”

Taizong nodded. “At dawn today, four young people departed from Luoyang for Chang’an—one of them is Li Xueyan, daughter of the Daoist Patriarch, whom you should know. Gather two hundred cavalrymen of the Imperial Guards, ride along the official road from Chang’an to Luoyang, locate them, and ensure their safe escort to the capital. Bring the one named Li Wen’yong before me. Above all, see to it that their lives are protected! Go now!”

Duan Zan was taken aback but accepted his orders and departed.

“Let us proceed,” said the emperor, resuming the audience. Though the ministers did not know the details, it was clear from His Majesty’s demeanor and reticence that the matter was of high secrecy. Still, they gleaned something significant: the emperor had dispatched his personal guards at breakneck speed to rescue a youth named Li Yi.

By late morning of the seventeenth, several hundred li from Chang’an on the official road, two groups faced each other in a tense standoff: one, more than a hundred masked horsemen; the other, just four people and two horses—Li Yi and his companions.

“This must be the third wave, right? Just how big a hornet’s nest did we stir up to have them hunt us so desperately? And this time, there are more of them than ever,” Li Yi remarked bitterly, eyeing the murderous crowd ahead.

“Elder Brother, for a scholar, your choice of words is hopelessly off. ‘A few more?’ Last time we faced twenty—this time, it’s fivefold that!” Jiang Lichen, having spent much time with Li Yi, had mastered the art of banter and cursing if nothing else.

“Brother Yi, can you handle this? Shouldn’t we try to turn back? Our horses are swift—they won’t catch us,” Li Xueyan said, looking haggard. Witnessing Li Yi’s autopsy in the magistrate’s office had already pushed her limits, but today she’d seen wave after wave of corpses. Both her spirit and body were near their breaking point—her body from the exhaustion of riding. Yet, from her demeanor, it was clear she’d been transformed, having now witnessed bloodshed firsthand.

“Xueyan, hold on. It’s nothing—these so-called elite soldiers are no more trouble than slaughtering an ox. Don’t worry, I’m up to it. I can do this! Awoo—!”

“Elder Brother, are you sure? Maybe we should think of another plan,” Jiang Lichen said, worried by Li Yi’s rambling bravado.

“Is that not obvious? If we had another plan, would I be exchanging glances with over a hundred lumps of meat? If they’ve managed to block us ahead, do you really think our rear is unguarded? They’re hoping to scare us off, drive us into the ambush behind. Then they’ll close in, surround us on all sides, and finish it in one blow.”

“Brother, you’re truly peerless!”

“Idiot! The phrase is ‘incoherent,’ not ‘peerless!’ Enough talk! A man never admits defeat. Time for Plan A!”

“What’s Plan A?”

“If Plan A fails, we use Plan B!”

“And Plan B is…?”

“Our last resort is Plan C!”

“Now there’s a Plan C?”

“Damn it, Plan D is simply to charge, kill, and then run—nonstop! Got it?”

“Got it—kill!” Jiang Lichen answered, spurring his horse into the fray.

“Hold on! I didn’t say start yet!” Li Yi shouted, following suit. He’d dragged out the conversation partly for a brief respite—they’d been fighting and fleeing all morning without so much as a sip of water—and partly to ease the nerves of the two women, whose worldviews had probably been shattered by the day’s events.

Li Yi and Jiang Lichen, astride Dustless and Shadowless, charged into the enemy ranks. Li Yi wielded a Cold Edge bayonet in his left hand and an Ancient Ink sword in his right, exuding a deadly aura. Jiang Lichen, meanwhile, brandished the Embroidered Sky Blade, a gift from his master, cutting an imposing figure. They’d hoped to break through at once, but the opposition was cunning.

Instead of rushing forward together, the hundred-odd attackers fanned out, encircling the four companions.

Seeing the dire situation, Li Yi quickly recalled Jiang Lichen to his side. The two mounted up back-to-back, making their defense more sustainable.

Li Yi alternated between the Taiji Saber and the Demon-Subduing Sword techniques; Jiang Lichen’s swordplay was equally extraordinary. Yet two hands could not prevail against so many. After felling over thirty foes, exhaustion began to overtake them.

Li Yi’s expression grew grave. Never since venturing into the world had he faced such peril. His mind raced—recalling how, in stories, protagonists would always break through at moments of crisis. Was there some hidden potential within him, some way to turn the tide?

But fate gave him no chance to play the hero. As his thoughts scattered, a large contingent of soldiers appeared up ahead. Instantly revitalized, Li Yi dispatched two more enemies with ease.

The outcome was now inevitable—a detachment of two hundred elite Tang soldiers made quick work of the assassins within a quarter of an hour.

“Brother Duan, is that really you?” exclaimed Li Xueyan, her spirits instantly revived at the sight of their rescuer.

“Xueyan? It truly is you! By order of His Majesty, I have come to your aid and to find a young man named Li Wenyong. Which of you bears that name?” The speaker was Duan Zan, eldest son of Duke Bao, Duan Zhixuan. He emerged from the ranks of two hundred soldiers to address the group.

“I am Li Wenyong. May I ask your name, General?” Li Yi, having sheathed his weapons, stepped forward to salute.

“I am Duan Zan. So you are Li Wenyong? Your bravery is remarkable!” Duan Zan had been deeply impressed by Li Yi’s valor in battle and, uncharacteristically, a smile broke through his stern features.

“Haha, you flatter me, Brother Duan! Compared to you, my skills are paltry—barely fit to slaughter stray cats and dogs.”

“Haha! You’re a straightforward fellow, and I like that. You’re my brother from now on! But His Majesty is waiting. Let’s talk as we go.” Duan Zan’s rare laughter left Li Xueyan momentarily stunned, her earlier trauma forgotten.

“So the emperor was alerted this quickly? Incredible! Still, since His Majesty already knows, we’d best hurry,” Li Yi muttered in amazement. They’d traveled nonstop on swift horses, yet still could not outpace the imperial intelligence network.

After a brief rest to drink and eat, the party set off once more.

At midday, following the court session, Emperor Taizong summoned Fang Xuanling, Zhangsun Wuji, Li Jing, and Wei Zheng to the Hall of Eternal Spring.

After paying their respects, the emperor bid them be seated and passed around Li Junqian’s letter.

After a silent reading, Taizong spoke: “What are your thoughts, gentlemen?”

Fang Xuanling considered briefly before replying: “Your Majesty, the letter is too brief for a thorough discussion; we’d best wait for this Li Yi to arrive and speak in detail. However, one thing is clear: there exists a vast, unknown organization at work among the populace, one that has already ensnared the sons of many officials. Whether any ministers themselves are compromised remains uncertain.”

The emperor nodded gravely. “In truth, I learned of this organization two years ago. At the time, it was small and hidden, and despite increased investigations, nothing was uncovered. That they now reveal themselves is troubling. Wuji, what say you?”

Zhangsun Wuji, startled from his thoughts, rose and replied, “Your Majesty, I have little to say about this organization, but this Li Yi intrigues me greatly.”

“Oh? Speak.”

“Your Majesty, according to the letter, Magistrate Li’s son was found hanged on the night of the Lantern Festival. The following day, Imperial Inspector Dai Shunde examined the body and declared it suicide, but his verdict was challenged by Li Yi, who re-examined the corpse and solved the case in half a day. Your Majesty, I know Dai Shunde—he is resolute, quick-witted, and a master of forensics, having solved many cases. Yet he failed to detect that the death was murder. The perpetrator must have used exceptionally sophisticated means. For a fifteen-year-old youth to unravel such a case in mere hours—unless there are hidden circumstances—suggests he is more than a prodigy.”

Emperor Taizong, struck by this insight, scrutinized the letter again, a smile slowly playing upon his lips. “Go—find out all there is to know about this Li Yi of Luoyang. I want a full report.”

A burly officer with a bristling beard at the emperor’s side took the order and departed.