Chapter 852: Dead

Prince Pingxi swept his gaze around the gathering and smiled.

“This Prince is unharmed.”

For a moment, every great lord present let out a long breath of relief.

Anyone who could still sit here today, no matter how stubborn his mouth remained or how often disdain appeared on his face, had already gone soft in the bones.

Perhaps they possessed all manner of sentiments and convictions. Perhaps some among them truly were capable officials, diligent officials, even clean officials. Perhaps they had written countless essays proclaiming their desire to serve the country and establish a life for the people.

But at the critical moment, the simple fact that they feared death could negate all of it.

Everyone’s heart had just ridden through a violent rise and fall. With Prince Pingxi’s words, “This Prince is unharmed,” they finally relaxed.

Had the Prince truly been assassinated, even if he had only been wounded, none of the men present would have escaped cleanly.

Prince Pingxi took two steps back and sat down again.

Originally, the Princess Consort of Prince Fu had been seated to his right. Now the Prince extended his left hand and tapped the space beside him.

Chen Xianba understood immediately. He brought over another armchair and placed it there.

“Help her up.”

Chen Xianba and Liu Dahu stepped forward and lifted the female assassin.

Before any further instruction came, Chen Xianba was already guiding her toward the chair. Liu Dahu was obviously half a beat slower. The two gave the woman a slight tug between them, and the assassin, whose spleen had already been injured by the Sword Saint’s sword qi, coughed up another mouthful of blood.

The Sword Saint, standing nearby, looked rather helpless.

Ever since this fishing-village youth from Yan had joined the personal guards as well, it had truly become a case of comparing two goods and realizing one of them ought to be thrown away.

The assassin was settled into the chair, her arms propped on the armrests. Chen Xianba stood behind her, one hand gripping her shoulder so she could remain sitting upright.

The Prince pointed toward the troupe still kneeling on the stage.

“Keep the music playing. Keep dancing.”

“His Highness has ordered you to continue!”

“Continue! Didn’t you hear?”

Under the shouts and urging of the armored soldiers, the performers resumed the show.

It was still the same play.

But because the woman playing Great Qian’s Emperor Taizu was now sitting below the stage, they picked a red-faced actor to replace her.

Nobody seemed to know exactly how they were supposed to continue. They simply fought, jumped, and sang.

The performers onstage were all somewhat dazed now, relying purely on instinct to keep the noise and movement going. The accompanying music also slipped out of rhythm from time to time, but each time the musicians quickly pulled it back together.

The Prince nodded in satisfaction.

Then he turned sideways and looked at the female assassin sitting beside him.

He reached out, picked up a piece of pastry, and held it to her lips.

“Want some?”

Her wounds were severe.

The Sword Saint had not exaggerated things by opening his Second Grade power outright, but even without doing that, he was still one of the Four Great Swordsmen of the age.

If she did not receive treatment immediately, she would certainly die.

She was not one of the Silver-Armored Guard. Truly not. An assassination arranged by the Silver-Armored Guard could never have been this hasty, this impulsive.

She really was simply a righteous woman.

A pure one.

In any profession, a person who remained pure was worthy of respect.

Especially here, surrounded by these “beasts in official robes,” this woman whose body was thick with stage powder and paint seemed like a single breath of clean wind passing through the stale, dying air of Great Qian.

Unfortunately, the man who smelled that wind was the Prince commanding the invading army.

The assassin stared at Zheng Fan. Even while fighting the pain continuously surging through her body, she still clenched her teeth at him.

She had trained for the stage since childhood, but she was still a woman. As life drained from her and weakness inevitably spread through her body, even that teeth-grinding hatred had become difficult to make fierce.

Seeing that she would not eat, the Prince put the pastry back on the plate.

His fingertips rubbed together.

The Princess Consort of Prince Fu handed him her silk handkerchief.

The Prince wiped his fingers, folded the handkerchief, then reached over and carefully wiped the blood spilling from the assassin’s mouth.

Everyone seated behind them could see these movements clearly. The viewing stands rose tier by tier.

At that moment, whatever was happening onstage no longer mattered.

Every gaze had gathered on the Prince.

“What’s your name?”

The woman said nothing.

“I’m Zheng Fan. What about you?”

She remained silent.

The Prince laughed.

“You dared assassinate this Prince, but you don’t even dare tell me your name? That would make me think all Qian people are soft-boned frauds who only look the part.”

“Jing... niang...”

“Niang,” used this way, was much like calling a girl “Mei’er” or “Niu’er.” Strictly speaking, it was more a familiar suffix than a formal name.

But in this age, possessing a proper given name and surname, much less a courtesy name or sobriquet, was still a privilege enjoyed by only a minority. Many ordinary commoners did not acquire a formal name until they had to deal with the government.

The Prince nodded.

“Why did you try to kill me?”

Jingniang said nothing.

“What? You don’t even dare tell me why?”

“Yan dog... every one of you... deserves death...”

“Yes. Right.”

“Did you lose family on the battlefield?”

“No...”

The Prince shifted his back and settled into a more comfortable position.

“I thought you performed quite well onstage just now. You really did carry something of Great Qian’s Emperor Taizu.”

“You... aren’t worthy... to watch...”

“Why?”

“Emperor... Taizu... you... aren’t worthy... to watch...”

Zheng Fan understood.

This woman had merged herself into the role.

She had entered the play completely.

Earlier, on the stage, she had been a woman playing Great Qian’s Emperor Taizu, acting out the founding Emperor’s story.

But below that very stage sat a Prince of Yan.

“Emperor Taizu” performed above.

A Prince of Yan sat below and watched.

How could she endure that?

Yes.

How could she?

It was, in truth, a form of humiliation.

An insult arranged long before anyone realized what it would become.

The temple fair and stage had already been prepared, but who could have known the Yan would suddenly fight their way into the city?

The particular play, however, had been chosen at the last moment.

Zhao Yuannian had selected this one for the sake of his “Prince father.”

It was humiliation performed by trampling on a Qian “totem.”

The actress could not bear it.

Yet the great lords famed for their sentimentality, men sensitive enough to see snow, admire flowers, listen to rain, and immediately overflow with poetic inspiration, had all watched calmly as though there were nothing strange about it.

Zheng Fan turned his head.

Zhao Yuannian immediately bent forward and leaned closer.

The Prince asked:

“Why did you choose this play? Aren’t you imperial clan too?”

Zhao Yuannian replied:

“Your Highness, this lowly one descends from Emperor Taizong’s line.”

“Oh. So that’s how it is.”

Emperor Taizu had died in middle age. After Emperor Taizong succeeded him, every later Emperor had descended through Taizong’s branch.

Taizu’s branch, meanwhile, had always had its numbers “controlled.”

Whenever the line became too numerous, drownings, illnesses, and other accidents somehow began to occur.

Even most of Qian’s present feudal princes traced their enfeoffments back to Taizong’s line.

Zheng Fan turned to the assassin again.

“Jingniang, is there anything you want to say to this Prince?”

Before she could answer, he continued:

“Your spear can’t kill me anymore. You’re badly wounded, and you’ll die soon. All you have left are the words in your mouth.”

“Yan dog...”

“Mm.”

“Leave... Qian... and I’ll... leave your corpse... whole...”

“Mm. Good.”

It was a line from the play.

Earlier onstage, when a jianghu tyrant tried to seize the woman Emperor Taizu had sworn to protect, Taizu had rebuked him:

“Leave the borders of Cangzhou, and I’ll leave your corpse whole!”

Prince Pingxi suddenly raised his voice.

“She says this Prince must leave the State of Qian, and then she’ll leave my corpse intact. What do all of you think?”

His voice carried clearly enough for everyone around them to hear.

The assembled officials fell silent.

Then a minor official suddenly stood and shouted:

“She is insolent! Audacious! To show such disrespect to Your Highness is a capital crime!”

Zheng Fan crooked a finger.

Chen Xianba stepped forward and brought the shouting official over.

The man immediately knelt before Zheng Fan.

“Your Highness, this lowly official is Pei De, Seal Keeper of the Government Storehouses. I pay my respects to Your Highness! May Your Highness live a thousand years! This lowly one has long admired Your Highness’s martial splendor. I beg Your Highness to grant me an opportunity. I am willing to attend at Your Highness’s side and labor like a dog or horse!”

Seal Keeper of the Government Storehouses was an office so small it barely counted as an official position at all, only just above the level of a yamen clerk.

This man had come to gamble.

He hoped that by hugging a powerful thigh, he might seize an opportunity to soar upward, even if that career no longer lay inside the State of Qian.

Had Wen Sutong not gone to Yan and received high office and generous salary?

Pei De did not dare dream of becoming another Wen Sutong. But even being erected as some minor political signboard was surely better than spending the rest of his life guarding a tiny Qian storehouse.

The female assassin’s chest spasmed faintly. Blood once again seeped from the corner of her mouth.

The Prince picked up the handkerchief and wiped it away for her.

“This Prince knows.”

“Many thanks, Your Highness! Many thanks!”

Chen Xianba stepped forward and escorted Pei De away.

The Prince turned back to Jingniang.

“Don’t be angry. Don’t work yourself up. You’re about to die already. In truth, this Prince has never looked down on Qian people. Truly. Everyone has one head sitting on two shoulders. Take a saber to the body and everyone bleeds. Not every Qian man is a coward, and not every Yan man is a warrior. Besides, eight hundred years ago, we were one people anyway.”

Zheng Fan remembered his first arrival at Nanwang City.

The Prefect had been killed. Then, at the man’s funeral, many more people died.

Immediately afterward, Marquis Jingnan led his army into Nanwang City.

That entire affair had really been nothing more than cleaning house.

The Prefect’s foundations had not been clean. A century of peace had raised too many bones softened in warm beds and gentle pleasures.

Perhaps the Yan method had lacked political artistry.

But even now, remembering the sheer satisfaction of simply cutting down the people who needed cutting still left one strangely intoxicated.

Zheng Fan himself did not know exactly what he was thinking at the moment.

The whole day had been idle from the beginning.

Wander around.

Look around.

Think whatever came to mind.

“This Prince once saw a fort commander at the Three Frontiers, a man who even ran one of the Red Tents. I deliberately spared his life, yet he still chose to light the beacon fire. I once stood beneath Mianzhou City and watched a father and son walk against the tide of fleeing people and come toward us. There was once a magistrate of some broken-down little county town. He knew his entire city could not stop even a single charge of Great Yan cavalry, so he led the people out to surrender. After asking my Yan army not to harm the commoners, he really did draw his saber and cut his own throat. Clean and decisive. And not long ago, over at Lanyang City, I heard about a household that had migrated there from Jin. Because this Prince arrived, the entire family killed themselves. They were Jin people, but they had always admired the State of Qian. In truth, you could count them as Qian people too. And then there’s this visit to Chuzhou City. Apart from the Queen Mother, everything else has been terribly dull.”

The Princess Consort of Prince Fu flushed red.

“To be honest, this Prince doesn’t much like Lin opera either. All that yi-yi-ya-ya. At first it was novel enough, but after a while... how should I put it? Perhaps this Prince really is just a Yan barbarian. Or perhaps I really am the Yan dog you called me. A dog can’t stop itself from eating shit. This Prince sits down here, looks up at the stage, and thinks... you’re all wearing too many clothes. Tsk-tsk. Boring.”

The assassin gave him a mocking smile.

“You smiled.”

“I’m... laughing... at a dog...”

“Right. This Prince is a dog. Woof, woof, woof.”

The Prince barked several times without bothering to lower his voice.

Then... he stopped.

He leaned his neck slightly back and adopted a listening posture.

Chen Xianba raised one hand.

All around them, Yan soldiers drew sabers or raised bows and nocked arrows.

The next moment... more “dog barks” began sounding from the rear.

Humiliation had never lain in the act itself.

It lay in being the one humiliated.

“Do you know why you Qian people have always been pressed down by us Yan? You just won a battle in Liang, yes. But this Prince can still come into your State of Qian whenever I please. I can even stop here in Chuzhou City to rest my feet without worrying that your government troops will come wrap dumpling skins around my army. In fact, your government troops arrived long ago. They simply don’t dare come near us. People are people. The Son of Heaven shepherds the borders, and great officials shepherd the people for the Son of Heaven. Human beings are like this: led by wolves, they become a pack of wolves. Led by sheep, even men who began as wolves eventually become sheep. Mm. That may not be rigorous enough, but the meaning is close enough. In Liang, my Yan army lost. Count Huwei died. Several tens of thousands of Yan soldiers died. Plenty of people told this Prince that Qian is about to rise. You have the largest population and the richest lands. Once Qian rises, they say, nothing will be able to stop it. But this Prince has never really worried about that, because I know perfectly well. A few generals have appeared. Several new armies have been trained. A few Chancellors have fallen. But fundamentally, your great lords are still the same lot they always were. Nothing has changed.”

“I’m... tired...”

“This Prince knows you don’t want to hear this.”

“I don’t want... to hear... dogs barking...”

“But this Prince still wants to speak. Whether you want to listen is secondary, just as you wanted to assassinate this Prince, yet I’m still sitting here. From beginning to end, you were only a foil. When you performed onstage and this Prince watched you, it was entertainment to pass the time. When you came to kill this Prince, I sat here and waited for you because today had been too monotonous and I wanted a little amusement. And the reason I’m saying these things to you now is because they are meant for you, yet they are also not meant for you. This is the second time this Prince has led a great army into Qian. There are things I’ve wanted to say for a very long time. You simply happened to give me the opportunity.”

Blood continued spilling from the woman’s mouth.

Zheng Fan wiped it away again.

“Do you have parents?” the Prince asked.

The assassin did not answer.

“You probably do. If you didn’t, you would have said so.”

In the end, Jingniang was not a professional.

She was no trained death-sworn operative. The assassination had been an impulse, and naturally there had been no plan for escape or arrangements for what followed.

She did not fear death now. She understood how badly she was injured.

But her family...

Her family was actually part of this troupe.

Her father was even its old troupe master.

At that very moment, her father was still organizing the other performers, forcing the play onward according to Prince Pingxi’s order.

Anyone sharp-eyed enough could have noticed that the woman playing the pipa had tears streaming down her face.

Behind the stage, the old troupe master kept sending actors out to fill scenes and maintain the noisy, lively atmosphere. His teeth were buried in his lip, his face iron-blue.

“You think this Prince will implicate them?”

Prince Pingxi picked up a peanut from the tea table and shelled it.

“This Prince has always liked pulling weeds up by the roots, but that’s when someone truly angers me. As for people who haven’t actually made this Prince angry... Zhao Yuannian.”

Zhao Yuannian immediately leaned forward again.

“Woof.”

“You see? This Prince isn’t that good at holding grudges.”

“Stop... pretending... then why... ask...”

“This Prince asked because I’m trying to protect your family. Do you believe that after this Prince and my army leave, not only will these officials refuse to commend you, refuse to erect a monument or carve your name into stone and proclaim your deed... they’ll find some excuse to bury your parents and this entire troupe along with you? Because they all sat here watching the same play. An Emperor Taizu play, at that. These great lords, every one of them stuffed full of the books of sages, sat calmly beside a Prince of Yan and watched it. And then you, a lowly actress without rank or standing, actually dared assassinate this Prince? Whose face did you slap? Mine? No. You slapped every one of these great lords across the face. Hard.”

“You... I...”

“The plays you perform probably always tell stories where righteous men eventually have their wrongs redressed and evil can never defeat justice. I can tell. You like playing Emperor Taizu. Emperor Taizu valued loyalty and righteousness. His literary and martial achievements were both worthy of admiration. Whether that whole yellow-robe affair really was forced on him or not, at the very least, he did protect that widowed woman and her orphan. Compared with rebels of that age who slaughtered the entire clans of their former sovereigns at the drop of a hat, he truly was much nobler. But even a man like Taizu... did he meet a good end? His younger brother sat on his Dragon Throne. The Crown Prince he personally established was deposed, then drowned while still young. Look at Emperor Taizong’s descendants today. Branches everywhere, leaves everywhere. Now look at Emperor Taizu’s line. Still thin and sparse.”

Prince Pingxi raised two fingers.

Liu Dahu immediately produced a cigarette and placed it between them, then took out a fire striker and lit it.

The Prince slowly exhaled a ring of smoke.

“Even if you refuse to tell me, do you think this Prince can’t discover who your family are? In fact, I don’t need to say anything at all. The moment this Prince leaves, these great lords will probably seize your family themselves and deliver them to me, begging me to calm my anger. For country, family, and yourself, little girl, you’ve already fulfilled the great righteousness today. Do you want to think about your family now?”

Jingniang froze.

“Will you tell me?”

“My father... is the troupe master...”

“Good. This Prince will protect their lives.”

The assassin stared at Zheng Fan in confusion.

“You tried to assassinate this Prince. Now this Prince is going to save your family. That means you owe me a thank-you. Say thank you, and the matter is settled. I am a Prince. I have no need to deceive a little girl like you.”

“Thank... you...”

“Good girl.”

The Sword Saint spoke then.

“If I seal her qi channels now, there’s still a chance to save her.”

Zheng Fan looked at him.

“You want to save her?”

“Depends what you want.”

The Prince smiled.

He did not answer.

Instead, he straightened in his seat and looked back toward the stage.

Everyone else moved a little farther away. They could not disturb the Prince while he watched the opera.

By now, the chaos onstage had been combed into some semblance of order. They had changed to a lighter, more cheerful story and started anew rather than continuing the previous piece.

This time...

Prince Pingxi watched very seriously.

Under that atmosphere, everyone else present pressed sleeves to their mouths even when they had to cough, as though making the slightest unnecessary sound at this moment would be an unforgivable offense.

Prince Pingxi watched more than half of the second play with complete attention.

But just as the ending approached, when the most splendid part was about to begin... the Prince rose from his chair.

Turned.

And walked away without the slightest reluctance.

In the chair that had stood at the Prince’s left...

Jingniang’s head had already fallen sideways against her right shoulder.

She... was dead.

[End of Chapter 852]