Chapter Forty-Seven: Destroying the Evidence—The Horsemen Trample the He Residence

Liu Rengui strode over, having already heard a brief account of what had happened from the guards on his way. Seeing the Crown Prince and Crown Princess safe and sound, he could not help but breathe a sigh of relief—what good fortune indeed. As long as the Crown Prince and his consort were unharmed, everything else could be managed, but this matter could no longer be downplayed. The attempted assassination of the heir apparent, resulting in the deaths of several royal guards, was not unheard of in history, but this was an unprecedented event in the Tang dynasty. Who knew how many people in Chang’an would be implicated this time? Even Zhang Bangyan, who had rendered great service, and Liu Hansan, who came later, might not escape unscathed. Betraying one’s lord was already considered disgraceful; knowing of the plot but failing to warn Helan Minzhi, or to inform beforehand, thus allowing the incident to occur—all these were serious offenses. Thankfully, none of it concerned himself.

He approached and bowed, asking, “Your Highness, are you well? And the young ladies, are they unharmed?”

The girls had already recovered somewhat from the shock and were all weeping. Li Wei, with a somber expression, replied, “I am unharmed. General Liu, weren’t you in Longzhou? Why have you returned to Chang’an?”

“Longzhou has gathered many troops to defend against the Tibetans, but the provisions sent by the court are meager. The soldiers are mostly surviving on two bowls of gruel a day. I wrote a memorial to Chancellor Li, but he turned a deaf ear. If this continues, with no supplies, the lack of fighting strength is a minor issue—we might face a mutiny.”

In the Tang dynasty, three meals a day was a luxury reserved for officials and the wealthy; commoners, and soldiers as well, usually ate only twice a day. Still, it was not as dire as Liu Rengui described—he had exaggerated, having thought up this explanation on his way back. He continued, “By chance, I encountered a retainer from the Helan household who informed me of the situation, so I led troops to search for Miss Yang and Your Highness. Upon learning you were also in Zhongnan Mountain, I brought the soldiers here.”

The two exchanged succinct accounts of the sequence of events.

Liu Rengui immediately ordered Guard Xie to lead five hundred troops into Zhongnan Mountain to hunt down the assassins. Whether assassins or deathsworn, these people were living testimony and could not be allowed to escape. But as night approached, with the enemy prepared and themselves unprepared, and the vast, densely forested Zhongnan Mountain being part of the Qinling range, it was unlikely they would be easily captured.

He also ordered that Xu Yue and the others have their wounds bandaged. Xu Yue was the most gravely injured, still carrying two arrows, and had received several more wounds in the recent fight. Having lost so much blood, his face was pale and he was swaying where he stood.

Liu Rengui looked at his wounds and praised, “A true warrior!”

Xu Yue shook his head and pointed to Li Zhuofan’s corpse on the ground. “General Liu, he is the real hero.”

It was only through the bloody struggle of the five guards that they held out until reinforcements arrived. But it was Li Zhuofan’s courageous sacrifice that inspired them and gave them the strength to persevere.

Li Wei, his face dark, said, “He was more than a hero. If not for his clever use of hunting traps along the way, slowing our pursuers, they might have caught up before we reached this place.”

Li Wei was unclear on what traps exactly—perhaps snares for wild animals, and such. The effect was minor, and the delay brief, but earlier, as they fled, they had heard two screams from behind—probably two of their pursuers had fallen into the traps. It bought them a little time—short, but precious.

As for how to reward him, Li Wei did not elaborate. Yet his words alone were enough. The court might even posthumously honor Li Zhuofan with an official rank, or seek out his family to reward them.

But Li Zhuofan himself would never know of any of it.

Li Wei stood in silence before the body for a long time. Liu Rengui said, “Your Highness, we should go.”

“Very well.”

“Your Highness,” Liu Rengui, noticing Li Wei was still downcast, spoke softly, “Chang’an is a city of peace, but on the battlefield, deaths are far more common, and such tragedies countless. Some are so harrowing that even the families of the dead receive no proper compensation.”

“Mm.”

The Crown Prince was simply too kindhearted, Liu Rengui thought, and said no more.

Perhaps not so much kindhearted as lacking the ruthlessness of his predecessor; Li Wei was not a bad man at heart. Besides, hearing about such things was one thing, but witnessing them in person—especially for someone from modern times, who would hesitate even to kill a chicken—the impact was immense.

At last, they left.

Once they were out of danger, their bodies, long taut like drawn bowstrings, suddenly went slack, especially the young girls, who could barely walk and had to be supported by soldiers as they made their way out of the mountains.

The sunlight was weak now, hazy and dim, and the distant scenery, no longer as bright and distinct as at midday, was draped in a gentle, beautiful light.

As they reached the outskirts of the mountain, the first wave of officials arrived. The guards had fled while shouting warnings all the way; there were no tourists nearby, but in the echoing mountains, some people must have heard. Still, the site of the incident was remote, with few visitors. The sight of armed men, fierce and grim, and even corpses on the ground, frightened many away from offering help, but the Crown Prince’s reputation was so great that someone rushed out to report to the authorities. Soon, all local officials, soldiers, even the village head, would likely be alerted.

A carriage had been prepared for Li Wei—not out of weakness, but because he truly had no strength left. The young ladies, seeing the carriage, found themselves unable to take another step. They all climbed aboard. The wheels creaked as the carriage set off.

There was still some distance to the city gates when another large group of officials came out to receive them.

Dai Zhizhi, Zhang Wenjuan, Li Jingxuan, Jiang Ke, Xiao Dezhang, and even Yang Min’s father, Yang Sijian—almost all the elites and notables of Chang’an were present.

They had all been on holiday—some hosting banquets for family and friends, others, like Yang Min, out enjoying the city’s sights or the countryside. But once they heard the news, all returned at once, closely monitoring the situation. Only after learning the Crown Prince was safe did they breathe a sigh of relief. They had all been terrified—especially these senior officials, most of whom, strictly speaking, were connected in some way to the Eastern Palace.

No wonder Li Wei could never understand why Li Zhi sometimes suppressed, sometimes supported the Crown Prince—it was clear the power of the heir’s faction could not be underestimated. Yet, neither Li Hong nor Li Wei really knew how to wield it.

Dai Zhizhi stepped forward, and after paying his respects, said to Liu Rengui, “General Liu, the court owes you a great debt for your efforts today.”

Had it not been for Liu Rengui’s swift and decisive actions, the outcome for Li Wei would have been dire. Of course, Liu Rengui’s emergency mobilization of the palace guard, even the troops of the Taiji Palace and Imperial City, had exceeded his authority—but who would dare censure him now?

“Chancellor Dai, there’s no need to thank me. If you must, then grant me ten thousand bushels of grain—Longzhou is desperate for food,” Liu Rengui joked, then turned to Li Jingxuan and said, “Li Jingxuan, have I or my men in Longzhou ever caused you any trouble?”

“No.”

“Then why did you ignore my letter describing Longzhou’s plight? Are you waiting for disaster to strike, so you can laugh at my expense?”

He was truly angry now, addressing him by name directly.

Li Jingxuan was displeased but explained patiently, “General Liu, you are not an ordinary soldier. You are prudent and understand the greater good. I was not being difficult. With spring planting approaching and autumn harvest in mind, we are sending home the refugees, and many need seed grain—supplies are tighter than ever. The court is now pulling grain from Hanzhong, Hedong, Jiangnan, the Huai region, Shandong, Hebei, even Yizhou. But the rivers are narrow and shallow, so transport is slow. Not just Longzhou, but the farthest frontiers—Liangzhou, Shanzhou, Hezhou, Wuzhou, only Songzhou is a bit better—the rest are all suffering shortages.”

He did not add that Longzhou was still some distance from the front lines, while others faced the Tibetan threat directly.

“I am well aware of that, but even if you don’t feed us well, at least let the soldiers survive. Do you want to turn the troops of Longzhou into refugees? Let me tell you, you’ll have to give us the grain, whether you want to or not. If not, I will petition Luoyang and resign—I already sought retirement last year. Whether or not you get the grain is your responsibility as chancellors.”

After a day and night without rest, Liu Rengui, already advanced in years, was exhausted. He didn’t want to argue further and laid his cards on the table. He had a point—he had already retired and was only recalled due to the border crisis.

Seeing the argument getting heated, Dai Zhizhi stepped in to smooth things over. “Let’s not quarrel now. Tomorrow, our holiday is over—we’ll meet and discuss the matter. For now, we must handle this major case.”

Even without the grain crisis, no one would be taking a holiday tomorrow. The thought made most officials grind their teeth in hatred toward Helan Minzhi.

…………………………………………………………

They arrived at the Duke of Zhou’s residence, its doors tightly shut.

Li Wei raised his left arm and commanded, “Break in, force the doors open!”

The ministers all frowned at this, but the soldiers were delighted—this was the kind of Crown Prince they liked. The previous heir, though kind, had been rather timid, almost effeminate, and they had not much liked him.

Storming Chang’an would be a daunting task, but the Duke of Zhou’s mansion was nothing.

A dozen soldiers brought over a large wooden beam and knocked down the gates in one blow.

“Go in and search thoroughly—do not let any suspect escape,” Li Wei commanded, ready to rush in himself. Liu Rengui stopped him—Helan Minzhi was desperate enough to do anything; if the Crown Prince led the charge, he might attack right in front of everyone.

But this command was well calculated.

Suspects? They were all in Zhongnan Mountain. Xu Yue and the others had reported back that the assassins had not yet been caught, and even the corpses had been hacked to pieces by their own to prevent identification—a clumsy attempt to destroy evidence.

But such childish acts would not save them. Did they really think that destroying the bodies would bring peace? Who was the Crown Prince? To call him benevolent was fair, but to speak plainly, he was a soft-hearted man. In all of the capital, from officials to commoners, he had made few enemies—perhaps only some court ladies and Helan Minzhi himself. Would a court lady dare hire killers to assassinate the heir?

Moreover, this case was not about evidence, but about how the Emperor and Empress chose to handle it. If they wished to deal lightly, then even with evidence, Helan Minzhi would only lose a few titles. If they were furious, then even without proof, Helan Minzhi would not survive.

The real reason for “searching for suspects” at the Helan estate was that the Crown Prince wanted to vent his anger. Many of the palace guards were sons of the powerful, fond of fighting and causing trouble themselves. Some already resented Helan Minzhi’s arrogance or envied his wealth and status. Besides, the Crown Prince was well-liked, and with several comrades killed, there was camaraderie and the urge to avenge them.

Everyone understood.

Rage, indignation, jealousy, hatred, the desire to curry favor, and a ready violence—all these emotions surged forth.

“Yes, sir!” came the unanimous reply, and on horseback, like a raging tornado, the soldiers poured into the Helan mansion.