Chapter 12 – Beacon Fires and Wolf Smoke

“Imperial Princess, Your Highness, we are half a day from the Imperial City,” said Ling Huaizhi, his heart heavy with sorrow, his gaze fixed on Mei Yichi with undisguised adoration.

Mei Yichi gave no reaction, having already sensed that the situation in the direction of the Imperial City was not looking optimistic.

The refined young nobleman elegantly rolled back his sleeve and poured a cup of wine for him. “This humble servant offers Your Highness a toast — may your canopy shine as splendid as brocade, and may you reign as the most exalted above all.”

The words could serve as a blessing for the Imperial Princess, or equally as one for an “Emperor.” He felt as though his heart was bleeding — he was about to personally escort the one he loved into another man’s bed.

Mei Yichi took a sip of wine, then slid him a meaningful glance. “This palace is tired. I shall retire to my room and rest for a while.”

There were few people at the relay station, yet as he made his way upstairs, he drew the attention of almost every eye in the room — some watching covertly, others openly.

“Move quickly. Things on the Imperial City side are coming to a close — we’re just waiting for the final verdict,” one man said in a hushed voice.

Ling Huaizhi downed a mouthful of wine. “Wait a quarter-hour more. Let the drug take effect.”

Up in the room above, Mei Yichi had heard every word of their conversation. A faint smile crept to the corner of his lips — a smile at the complex schemes of mortals, a smile at what people called feelings, a smile at himself for truly having “savored” this journey.

All that savoring, in the end, had been of no use to him. It had neither helped him break through the shackles of his cultivation realm, nor produced any insight of value.

So be it. Reaching this point could be considered the fulfillment of his agreement with Yi Shang.

The affairs of the Imperial City were not something he was suited to involve himself in.

“Shuang Ban—”

A bird flew in from the distance and landed on the window frame. In shape it resembled a chicken, yet each of its eyes bore two pupils. It let out a single cry toward Mei Yichi, bright and clear as the call of a phoenix.

This was a renowned spirit bird, known as the Chongming.

Mei Yichi watched as it shook off every last one of its feathers without a care for appearances, leaving itself bare — nothing but a body of naked flesh. He said helplessly, “I am going back now. You stay here a few more days. When the Yin Dynasty falls, or if the Crown Prince finds himself in danger, rescue him once.”

The Chongming bird spoke in a human voice: “The Imperial City is far too chaotic. How am I supposed to find him?”

Mei Yichi had prepared for this. He bent a finger and flicked out a wisp of blood energy. “He is Yi Shang’s nephew, connected to her by bloodline. Follow this, and you will find him.”

Having given his instructions, Mei Yichi dissolved into light and vanished without a trace.

The Chongming bird beat its two fleshy wings, rose into the air, and flew straight in the direction of the Imperial City.

“Imperial Princess, Your Highness, it is time to depart.” Ling Huaizhi pushed open the door with three or four burly men at his back — and immediately stood there dumbfounded. “Where is she!”

“The window is open. Don’t tell me she’s run off!”

Li Mao had joined forces with the commander of the Imperial City garrison, the Grand Marshal, and other former members of the Li family faction to confirm and solidify the Crown Prince’s crimes.

With that, there was no one of the Yi family left to inherit the throne.

The hearts of the court ministers began to stir with schemes of their own.

“The grandfather of the Marquis of Donglin was the Prince of Northern Zhao, a grandson of Emperor Jingwen. The Marquis of Donglin may therefore be considered a descendant of the imperial line, and he has long enjoyed a reputation for virtue — he is capable of shouldering great responsibilities.”

“Alas, no, that will not do. Lord Yu Bogong is the great-great-great-great-grandson of Emperor Xiaojia. When it comes to legitimate succession, who could surpass him?”

“No, I believe—”

Li Mao let out a cold snort. “Have you gentlemen forgotten the Imperial Princess, Your Highness!”

“Well…” The ministers exchanged glances with one another.

Li Mao spoke with righteous conviction: “The Imperial Princess is the late Emperor’s eldest legitimate daughter, and furthermore a heroic woman who pacified the Three Southern Provinces and defended the frontier. Can it be that she is unworthy of shouldering great responsibilities?”

Those of the Li faction no longer bothered to hide their allegiance. “We believe the Imperial Princess is precisely the right candidate.”

“If the Imperial Princess were to bear a young prince, that would not be unacceptable either.”

Li Mao controlled the discourse, making mental note of all those who voiced opposition or doubt, his heart brimming with delight. Once he married the “Empress,” he would have her abdicate after a few years — and then he would be the Emperor, fair and square.

As for how to make Yi Shang comply — once he had her person, held her life and death in his hands, he need not fear any resistance.

Outskirts of the Imperial City.

A massive boulder rolled down the slope, revealing the mouth of a cave.

Zhan Changfeng and her companions emerged from within. She surveyed her surroundings, then turned and issued orders: “Zero-Five, take the women and children and find shelter in another province. As for the rest — those who wish to leave may go. Divide the silver among them.”

A captain of the Imperial Guard said urgently: “Your Highness — as long as the green hills remain, there will always be firewood! Please do not give up!”

“I fear that the moment I leave, I would be branded a kinslayer and a betrayer of my ancestors — how could I ever return?” Besides, at this moment she had no one she could truly trust beyond the shadow guards at her side — and even those had been whittled down to only seven.

On the other hand, she had no clear picture of how many at court stood with Li Mao, and the hope of restoration was dim.

“There is no need for further words. Those who wish to leave must go now — once they catch up, it will be too late. Zero-Three, divide the valuables.”

The valuables they had brought out were not many — each person received only fifty taels.

Most of the handmaidens and attendants took the silver and hurried away in a panic, some choosing to go with the palace women and children to settle in another province.

But those stout men of the Imperial Guard were stubbornly unyielding. They knocked away the silver being distributed to them and dropped to their knees as one, a row of them filling the ground.

The young captain’s eyes reddened. “When we entered the military, we swore an oath to pledge our lives in loyalty to Your Majesty until our last breath, willing to be ground to dust ten thousand times over. We never imagined that our own comrades and brothers-in-arms would harbor treacherous intentions and strike first. We failed to see through them — we too cannot escape blame, and have no face to show the world!”

“We beg Your Highness to permit us to follow at your side and atone for our failures through deeds!”

Zhan Changfeng’s expression softened. “Li Mao had been scheming for a long time. The upheaval of this day caught even our grandfather and ourself entirely off guard — how can we rightly blame you?”

This was truly not a place to linger. Zhan Changfeng dismissed most of the others, sent Zero-Five away with the women and children, and then took refuge in the mountains with the shadow guards and Imperial Guards who remained.

Yet her connection to the outside world had not been severed. Zero-One and Zero-Two, who had never shown their faces, were still within the Imperial City.

These two operated independently from the other shadow guards, responsible for managing assets and gathering intelligence.

Zhan Changfeng waited several days, and reports trickled in one after another.

“Yu Zhenming, Bai Zhilin, Fang Qianyu — so many ministers had dealings with him.” The more she read, the more alarmed she became. Li Mao had planted a formidable network of hidden agents.

Zhan Changfeng picked up the next letter. This one carried some good news — Yi Shang was not in his hands.

If her aunt had not been taken captive, she would surely return south to raise a rebellion.

But when she reached the final line, the hand holding the letter trembled ever so slightly — almost imperceptibly.

The Consort had taken her own life within Yongxiu Palace. The great fire burned long and would not be quenched.

Zhan Changfeng sat in silence for a long while, then let out a quiet, mournful sigh. “Such is fate.”

“Zero-Three,” she said, her eyes going cold and dark. “Light the beacon fires. I would sooner see all living beings thrown into misery than allow the Yin Dynasty to fall into the hands of a thieving traitor!”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

A signal flare was fired into the sky and burst into the shape of a sword.

The shape of that sword was unmistakably that of the Son of Heaven’s Sword.

The sword-keeper, who had been crouching beneath Star-Plucking Terrace, looked up. The serene stillness of his ancient-well eyes rippled for just a moment, and then, trembling, he climbed the hundred-zhang stairway to the very top.

The great wind shrieked.

He produced a fire-starter and, cupping the flame, lit the corner of a curtain.

No one knew what the curtain and the roof beams were made of — but from that single small flame, even against the biting wind at such heights, a conflagration erupted, burning with fierce and magnificent fury!

From a distance it looked like a towering torch standing within the Imperial City, blazing with thunderous intensity.

Strangest of all, the thick smoke that rose straight into the clouds was blood-red!

Half a quarter-hour after it was lit, three hundred li away, another column of beacon smoke rose. Then eight hundred li away. Then eighteen hundred li away. Across the great land of Shenzhou, beacon fires surged into the sky.

Blood-smoke scorched the heavens — the imperial line was in peril — a summons to all lords — slay the treacherous rebels!

This blood-smoke, unlit for eight hundred years, plunged the land of Shenzhou into turmoil in an instant. Lords both loyal and ambitious alike struck their camps and set forth, their swords pointed at the Imperial City!

And in that southern land, Yi Shang gazed afar at the blood-smoke, and in her grief and anguish she hurled her wine jar to the ground — for this was a smoke that would only be lit at the moment of a dynasty’s ruin.

At the end of the forty-seventh year of the Inheriting Brilliance reign, a coup shattered the firecrackers of the new year, and the Yin Dynasty began to fracture and fall apart.

(End of Chapter)