Chapter 709: Outside the Palace Gates, the Peach Blossoms Bloom as Ever

Marquis Zheng sat on the back of his Pixiu with the Son of Heaven's sword in his arms.

Helpless?

Of course he was helpless.

He was facing an army that revered him, treated him with extreme courtesy, and would absolutely refuse to obey a single one of his military commands. Worse, he was nominally their "commander."

And worse still, an enormous upheaval was unfolding inside Yanjing at this very moment.

He was not used to this.

Truly not used to it.

Ever since being transferred from Tiger Head City to Cuiliu Fort, Zheng Fan had taken part in almost every great storm Great Yan had experienced over the last five years. One could say he had personally witnessed the course of Great Yan's rise.

He had followed this struggle for the succession for ninety-nine steps after entering the capital.

Then, just before the final step across the threshold... he had been kicked out and dumped here.

Unable to witness the ending.

What a damned pity.

And the man responsible for all of it was the Emperor.

His hand had arranged everything long ago.

Those deemed "irrelevant" would not be permitted to play any truly decisive role in this affair.

The struggle for the succession was a family matter of the Son of Heaven.

The realm would eventually need an explanation.

More importantly, the two Princes would need an explanation.

But when the matter truly reached its final moment... outsiders were not invited to join the excitement.

Marquis Zheng was growing somewhat anxious.

Back when he ate hotpot with Old Tian, Old Tian had said that whoever became the new sovereign would make little difference to Marquis Pingxi.

The Blind Man, however, had once said that if Ji Old Sixth truly became Emperor, it might actually be worse for them.

Back when Ji Old Sixth sat there eating cornmeal, he had looked rather adorable.

But the fundamental reason he seemed "adorable" was that the Emperor of Yan had kept crushing him down, preventing him from ever reaching the true core of power.

More precisely... preventing him from touching the actual authority of a state.

Once Ji Old Sixth sat in that position and inherited everything the Emperor of Yan possessed, then as an opponent, every move he made would inevitably become far more targeted.

Of course... the Blind Man had always taken "rebellion" as the premise.

Zheng Fan understood all that perfectly well himself.

But even setting aside the bargain between him and Ji Old Sixth... emotionally, he still hoped Ji Old Sixth would be the one laughing at the end.

Back then, outside Marquis Zhenbei Residence, one had been a dissolute and carefree Prince.

The other had been some mongrel Lieutenant Commander escorting merchant caravans.

Now... one had become a Marquis.

And if the other could sit upon the imperial throne... then when they looked back over their lives, it would make a rather perfect circle.

Set personal interests aside for a moment.

It was actually rather beautiful.

As for everything else... they could worry about it later.

So he waited.

And waited.

Then... the Departure Bell rang.

After the Departure Bell sounded nine times, every soldier dropped to his knees and began to weep.

Marquis Zheng dismounted from his Pixiu as well.

Holding the Son of Heaven's sword, he knelt upon the ground.

There were some things a man could never truly understand before the moment arrived.

More precisely... until today, there had been no way to see them clearly.

One of those things was the Emperor of Yan's prestige within the army.

A brilliantly capable Emperor.

An Emperor who had expanded his realm with relentless ambition.

Naturally... the soldiers adored him.

Take the Jingnan Army.

They were loyal to Old Tian.

If Old Tian ordered them to rebel, they would follow him and attack Yanjing without hesitation.

But if they heard that the Emperor of Yan had died... would they grieve?

Would they cry?

Yes.

Of course they would.

A human being was complicated.

An army was a body formed from tens or hundreds of thousands of human beings.

Naturally... it was even more complicated.

Whether the Zhenbei Army or the Jingnan Army, the soldiers forming their core... no.

More accurately... almost every last one of them was Yan.

The Emperor of Yan appeared to have delegated military power.

Great Yan's two greatest field-cavalry groups were both held entirely in the hands of the two Princes.

Yet in truth... the Emperor of Yan had long since become the Emperor of every Yan man.

That prestige.

That influence.

They could not be faked.

Legitimacy.

Proper name.

Open and upright authority.

Most of the time, they seemed rather useless.

But there were moments when you simply could not deny the value of their existence.

Look at Fatty Xu.

In his younger years, he had been a committed supporter of Marquis Zhenbei Residence rebelling.

Now?

Was he not a loyal and virtuous subject of Great Yan, governing one region on the court's behalf?

Perhaps... the only army to suffer relatively little shock from this news would be Marquis Zheng's Eastern Jin Army.

Because the Eastern Jin Army was not made up purely of Yan people.

Naturally, they could not feel the same grief in quite the same way.

And then... after that brief surge of emotion... one extremely practical question appeared.

Who had won?

Little Sixth?

The Crown Prince?

Or had some other imperial prince managed to swallow this delicious meat bun instead?

And after that... what was Zheng Fan supposed to do?

He himself was not competing for the succession.

But when elections came around... outsiders were often even more invested and anxious than the candidates themselves.

Fortunately... he did not have to wait much longer.

Eunuch Qu arrived carrying an imperial decree.

"Marquis Pingxi, receive the decree."

The Emperor had only just died.

What decree could this possibly be?

The late Emperor's final edict?

Or something from the new sovereign?

Marquis Zheng knelt and prepared to receive it.

Of course... he, Zheng Fan, was no Fusu.

If the edict told him to drink a cup of wine or kill himself... he would rebel on the spot and show everyone exactly what that looked like.

But the decree was brief.

And completely outside Marquis Zheng's expectations.

"Marquis Pingxi Zheng Fan is ordered to immediately mobilize the Jingnan Army outside the city and enter the capital to protect Our sacred person."

"..." Zheng Fan.

This did not sound like a final decree from the Emperor of Yan.

Nor did it sound like the sort of decree the Crown Prince or any other imperial prince would issue as the new sovereign.

And it did not especially sound like an order Ji Old Sixth would give either.

Ji Old Sixth knew perfectly well what sort of man Zheng Fan was.

The two of them had already bared their hearts and dissected their own natures to one another inside that mutton-soup shop in Beifeng Commandery.

But...

Marquis Zheng still answered:

"This minister receives the decree."

To hell with figuring out who was right and who was wrong.

At a moment like this, the most important thing was having troops beside him whom he trusted and who would absolutely protect him.

After receiving the decree and standing again, Zheng Fan discovered Eunuch Zhang, Ji Old Sixth's personal eunuch, standing behind Eunuch Qu.

Oh.

Now he understood a little.

Marquis Zheng took the Son of Heaven's sword, mounted his Pixiu, and first said to Fan Li beside him:

"Go back. Send the family to the Prince's residence."

"Yes, Master."

Fan Li left.

Accompanied by Eunuch Qu, Marquis Zheng returned once more to the eastern gate.

The gate opened.

No one questioned the arrangement in the decree.

Everything went smoothly.

Far too smoothly.

The Departure Bell had only recently finished ringing.

By rights, every faction should have been suspicious, hesitant, and dragging its feet.

Yet this matter... proceeded with astonishing ease.

Marquis Zheng left the city.

And entered the camp outside.

Capable as he was of trying to get by on his face alone, under Eunuch Qu's gaze he still produced the Prince of Jingnan's Command Token.

Then... without the slightest surprise... ten thousand Jingnan cavalry, together with the personal guards Marquis Zheng had brought from Fengxin City, all rose at his command.

When the army entered the capital... no one stopped them.

Everything... was smooth as silk.

So smooth that Marquis Zheng himself found it strange.

Marquis Zheng left the city.

Then Marquis Zheng came back.

And this time... more than ten thousand soldiers who would actually obey him came back with him.

Shouting, "I, Hu Hansan, am back!" would have been far too embarrassing.

But at the very least... his sense of security returned.

His spirits lifted.

He suddenly felt capable again.

"Eunuch Qu. Where should this Marquis go next?"

Marquis Zheng asked a deliberately stupid question.

"Marquis, naturally you should go to His Majesty, return thanks, and report completion of the decree."

Zheng Fan nodded.

Then waved one hand.

The iron cavalry formed ranks and advanced toward the imperial palace.

A few days earlier, when the Emperor of Yan handed him the Son of Heaven's sword and ordered him out of the city to mobilize troops...

Marquis Zheng had spent the ride wondering whether he might become Dong Zhuo.

Now... his troops truly had entered the capital.

More than ten thousand cavalry inside Yanjing were a force no one could possibly ignore.

Yes, the Zhenbei Army was still inside the city.

But if everyone truly went mad and fought... whoever moved first would seize the initiative.

It was not impossible to smash one another apart.

Besides... when it came to rebellion... even a ten-percent chance of success was enough to make countless ambitious men charge forward one after another.

And right now...

Marquis Zheng could barely convince himself he had fifty-fifty odds.

But the more the situation looked like this... the more confused Zheng Fan became.

When there was no opportunity, you could not help fantasizing about it.

When the opportunity suddenly looked almost within reach... something inside you abruptly found the whole thing rather dull.

Of course... part of that reaction came from how absurdly smooth everything had been.

That smoothness meant Yanjing had not fallen into chaos because of the Emperor's death.

Quite the opposite.

At every critical point, this imperial city was still functioning in orderly fashion.

If the water was not muddy... how were you supposed to catch fish?

That supposed "fifty-fifty" chance existed only on the surface.

In reality... it was much lower.

More importantly... the Emperor of Yan was dead.

Marquis Zheng felt something inside his chest loosen.

And Eunuch Zhang's appearance all but proved that Little Sixth had probably won.

Good days... were visibly approaching.

At a moment like this... there truly was no need to gamble everything on some desperate risk.

In short... all kinds of thoughts tangled inside Marquis Zheng's mind as he led the army toward the palace gates.

Along the way... he saw commoners drowned in grief.

At the same time, because so many troops had been stationed throughout the imperial city, the possibility of disorder following the Emperor's death had indeed been suppressed to some degree.

No smashing.

No looting.

No sudden outbreaks of chaos.

By the time Marquis Zheng reached the imperial palace... the carriage carrying Ji Old Sixth and the Crown Prince had not yet arrived.

Because that carriage was moving slowly.

Deliberately slowly.

After the Emperor of Yan returned from the Rear Garden, the imperial palace had never truly been cleaned out.

Now that a new sovereign was about to enter... it naturally needed to be tidied.

Wei Zhonghe and Lu Bing were both masters of this sort of work.

They had known long ago where dust had accumulated inside the palace... and where certain people with poor eyesight needed to disappear.

But even when you already knew what had to be cleaned away... cleaning still took time.

Besides, since the new sovereign had already issued his first imperial decree... people needed to show it some respect.

They could hardly force the new Emperor to sit outside the palace gates waiting for Marquis Pingxi.

This was the considerate treatment due an Emperor.

Ji Chengjue had now begun enjoying it.

At the palace gates...

Fourth Prince Ji Chengfeng had first heard the Departure Bell.

For one instant... he had wanted to laugh.

He forcibly suppressed it.

Suppressing it hurt so badly that tears came out instead.

Afterward... an ocean of panic crashed over him.

When Father had been alive, it had always felt as though that man pressed down so hard Ji Chengfeng could barely breathe.

And Little Seventh was still too young.

Among the grown princes, the Crown Prince and Old Sixth were naturally the first group.

Eldest Brother came second.

Old Fifth was away managing the river works.

Count it all up... and the most useless prince, the one most likely to follow Old Third's fate and get thrown into the brazier as firewood... was probably him.

Having to remain prepared at every moment to sacrifice himself for Imperial Father and Great Yan... had truly been a terrifying kind of torment.

Now...

Father was gone.

Once that first violent emotional wave passed, Ji Chengfeng abruptly realized something.

The pillar of the household... had collapsed.

Then... what was he supposed to do?

Imperial Father had died.

What happened to the throne now?

Damn it to hell.

Who won?

Could no one hurry up and give him a straight answer?

Whatever happened, Ji Chengfeng understood one thing clearly.

It had nothing to do with him.

There was no possibility he himself had somehow won.

But right now... he happened to be guarding the most critical position of all.

The palace gates.

One careless mistake.

One wrong performance during what came next.

And he might not even get to live as an idle imperial clansman afterward.

While he remained trapped in that anxiety... the Jingnan cavalry appeared.

The Capital Camp under Fourth Prince Ji Chengfeng had been built up by his own hands.

It contained some veterans, but as a whole the force had never truly fought on a battlefield or seen blood.

And in truth... even Li Liangshen's Zhenbei formation had seen little real fighting over these last several years.

Weapons rusted if left unused too long.

Troops were the same.

Go several years without war and even an army that had once been magnificent would begin developing a certain loose, floating quality.

Especially when that particular Zhenbei formation had been stationed near Yanjing.

Life in the prosperous heartland of Great Yan was much more pleasant than chewing sand in the desert.

Marquis Zheng's personal guards, however... and these ten thousand core Jingnan cavalry of the Prince of Jingnan... had fought in almost every major foreign campaign Great Yan launched over the past several years.

The murderous aura rolling from them was so dense it almost seemed ready to drip.

Many suits of armor still carried fresh dents and damage.

Those scars were medals of honor upon the armor.

To outsiders... they were the most direct intimidation imaginable.

So when Marquis Pingxi led this army to the palace gates...

Ji Chengfeng immediately understood one thing.

The troops under him could absolutely not stop them.

Of course... he could close the palace gates and rely upon the walls.

The defenses of the imperial palace... the towering palace walls... had originally been designed with practicality very much in mind.

But after several hundred years... especially after Imperial Grandfather went on his grand spree building Daoist temples and Buddhist monasteries throughout the capital... and Father afterward simply converted many of those temples into government yamens... the palace had effectively expanded outward.

For the convenience of court officials, some areas had even been remodeled into layouts that made no military sense whatsoever.

More importantly... from ancient times until now... when a foreign army or rebellion truly reached the palace gates... how many dynasties had actually survived because the palace gate itself held?

Once things reached this point and people's hearts scattered... even the finest palace wall became useless.

"Defensive formation!"

Ji Chengfeng gave the order.

The spearmen under him immediately advanced and formed ranks.

Behind them stood saber men, axemen, and shield bearers.

At the rear... crossbowmen and archers took position.

Soldiers on the palace walls also began preparing for battle.

But none of this placed any real pressure upon the cavalry behind Marquis Zheng.

A professional needed only one glance.

A tiger did not become especially nervous because a group of cats bared their teeth and raised their claws.

In fact... quite a few cavalrymen wore smiles.

They truly did not take this seriously.

They had charged the infantry squares of Great Chu.

Why would they fear this?

Some of the riders were even beginning to itch for it.

All they needed was one command from their Marquis.

No special assignment would even be necessary.

The rear units would naturally begin mounted archery to suppress the palace wall.

The front would naturally press iron hooves into the enemy formation.

The center would naturally drive straight through with men who did not fear death.

These things had been burned into their bones.

Honed one step at a time through actual battle.

Put up a decorative formation... and you thought they were commoners watching a street performance?

As for what it meant to attack the Capital Camp guarding the palace gates... to attack the imperial palace itself... they understood perfectly well.

They simply did not care.

Many riders' eyes were still red.

They had cried for the Emperor of Yan.

Grieved for him.

But battlefield comrades had died beside them over and over, and they had continued charging.

They understood better than most what it meant to pick something up... and what it meant to put it down.

These were soldiers Old Tian had trained.

And this... was also the confidence that had allowed Marquis Zheng to daydream about becoming Dong Zhuo on his earlier ride out of the city.

Still...

Marquis Zheng did not simply act like some bachelor with nothing to lose and order a charge.

Instead... he brought out the imperial decree.

He intended to win them over with virtue.

He cleared his throat.

Opened the decree.

Then... froze.

The imperial decree was completely blank.

The only thing on it... was the imperial seal stamped where the seal was supposed to go.

"..." Zheng Fan.

Fuck your uncle!

Marquis Zheng immediately turned toward Eunuch Qu, who had accompanied him all the way out to mobilize the army and back again.

Eunuch Qu returned his gaze with the same polite, gentle smile as always.

At this instant... even a man as quick-witted as Marquis Zheng could no longer figure out one simple question.

Was he currently a loyal and virtuous subject of Great Yan... or a treacherous rebel?

What the hell was a blank imperial decree bearing the imperial seal supposed to mean?

How was this thing any different from the fake radish seal he had once given the First Prince?

And then... had Ji Old Sixth won?

Lost?

Or had someone simply chopped his head off?

Marquis Zheng had always liked standing across the river watching the fire, feeling as though he understood everything.

Now... he finally had a direct understanding of what it meant to be trapped "inside the mountain" and unable to see the true shape of things.

Across from him...

Ji Chengfeng naturally recognized Marquis Pingxi.

It would have been difficult not to.

The two Princes had kept to their residences.

The only men currently riding Pixiu around inside Yanjing were Marquis Pingxi and Eldest Brother.

But Ji Chengfeng hesitated.

He did not dare ride out to ask questions.

He was afraid that the instant he came forward...

Marquis Pingxi would chop him down with one stroke, wave a hand, and order the army into the palace.

At the same time... he was also afraid Marquis Pingxi would simply order a direct assault.

Since Marquis Pingxi had brought troops into the capital... barring some enormous accident, he had probably come to help Sixth Brother.

And Ji Chengfeng himself... had at least counted as half a member of the Sixth Master's faction.

Imperial Father was already dead.

Which brother became Emperor now... what did that have to do with Ji Chengfeng?

It was not as though dying heroically here would somehow put the throne beneath his own backside.

So now Ji Chengfeng faced a miserable dilemma.

Ride out?

He feared being chopped down.

Remain where he was?

He feared being trampled beneath cavalry hooves.

At that moment... the carriage finally arrived at the palace gates.

Wei Zhonghe held the reins.

Lu Bing sat beside him.

Lu Bing climbed down first.

He walked to Marquis Zheng.

Saluted.

Then said:

"Marquis Pingxi. His Majesty asks you to come over."

Marquis Zheng rode his Pixiu closer.

At this point, he was not particularly afraid someone would suddenly butcher him.

There had been no need to go through the absurd trouble of letting him bring an army inside the capital first if the plan were simply to kill him afterward.

Wei Zhonghe still held the reins on the carriage.

He gave Zheng Fan the same mild, pleasant smile as always.

Marquis Zheng nodded back.

Wei Zhonghe looked away again.

A trace of melancholy and regret appeared on his face.

Then...

Marquis Zheng's Pixiu came alongside the carriage window.

Sitting atop the beast, Marquis Zheng raised the Son of Heaven's sword and lightly tapped the window.

The window opened from inside.

Ji Chengjue's face appeared.

Ji Chengjue looked at Marquis Zheng outside the carriage.

And said:

"Bitch. I'm Emperor now."

Marquis Zheng nodded.

At last... the stone inside his heart completely fell away.

"All right, you animal."

[End of Chapter 709]