Chapter 132: Engagement

The two combatants each possessed their own unique martial strengths. In the past, Empress Wu Zetian had recruited masters from across the realm to serve as palace guards. As a high-ranking lady official and a favored confidante of the Empress, Shangguan Wan'er enjoyed unparalleled opportunities to hone her swordplay. Eager to curry favor with her and secure a good word before the Empress, every master she approached had been more than willing to teach her their secrets, pouring their life’s work into her training. Consequently, Shangguan Wan'er’s sword style was a synthesis of the finest techniques from various schools, which, through years of dedicated practice, she had long since integrated into a unique, singular art form.

Tian Yangming, by contrast, was a master of the Tianshan Sect’s swordplay. Originally a disciple of the sect, he had assumed a pseudonym and joined the military following a series of personal upheavals. Over the years, relying on his martial prowess and sharp intellect, he had climbed the ranks from a lowly blade-shield soldier to the exalted position of Grand Protector of the Anxi Protectorate. If one were to judge by swordplay alone, the Tianshan style was considered the pinnacle of the world, vast in its variations and profound in its ancient wisdom.

Both fighters favored a style that was light, agile, and elegant. Thus, despite the flurry of blades, not a single sound of clashing steel rang out. Their weapons brushed past each other by mere millimeters, dancing in such close proximity that, despite the intensity, neither suffered even the slightest graze. Clad in white, Shangguan Wan'er moved like a butterfly, while Tian Yangming, in his purple robes, mirrored her grace. Beneath the moonlight, the scene appeared beautiful, yet it was steeped in lethal intent; it was far more perilous than any crude, shouting brawl, for their lives hung in the balance of every passing second.

Tian Yangming felt a pang of regret. Had Shangguan Wan'er not been caught in this palace coup, her mastery of the sword could have allowed her to found her own sect and become a grandmaster of her generation. Her literary talent, too, could have made her a luminary of the age, leaving behind works to be cherished for centuries. Alas, trapped within the palace walls, she was a prisoner of circumstance, and her fate was now impossible to foresee.

After nearly a hundred exchanges, Shangguan Wan'er’s stamina began to falter, and her swordplay grew ragged. In a desperate maneuver, she deflected Tian Yangming’s long saber, reached to her waist with her left hand, and drew a jade dagger, hurling it point-blank at his face. At such close range, anyone else would have been struck. But her opponent was Tian Yangming, a man who had spent decades in the military and lived a life of constant peril on the battlefield. His reflexes were lightning-fast; he tilted his head to dodge the blade and caught it firmly between his teeth. Before she could change her stance, he whipped his sleeve to shield his hand and, striking through the fabric, pressed his fingers against her pressure points.

Shangguan Wan'er’s body swayed, and she nearly collapsed. Without hesitation, Tian Yangming struck eight more vital points in rapid succession. She slumped to the ground, utterly immobilized.

"I fear I shall never return to Fengming Pavilion," Shangguan Wan'er said with a bitter, hollow smile. "This jade dagger was a gift from the Emperor; it is my most cherished possession. Please, keep it safe—let it be a testament to the life I have led."

She closed her eyes and fell silent.

Tian Yangming solemnly placed the jade dagger in his robe and whispered, "I may not be able to save your life, but I shall ensure you depart with dignity." He ordered a silk quilt brought from the pavilion to wrap her in.

Meanwhile, under the desperate protection of the imperial guards, Lady Wei broke through the encirclement and fled the palace via a side gate leading to the stables. As Sha Tonghai prepared to lead his men out of the Daming Palace in pursuit, Zhong Xian immediately stopped him. "Sir, do not give chase."

"Old Zhong!" Sha Tonghai barked. "Have you lost your wits? That old hag won't get far; we’re about to catch her! Why are you stopping us?"

Zhong Xian pulled him aside and whispered, "Sir, remember what the Prince instructed when we arrived? We are to fight only within the palace. Do not concern yourself with what happens outside. Now that Lady Wei has escaped, let us turn back and finish off the remnants of her faction. Let others deal with her."

"Wouldn't that just be handing the credit to someone else?" Sha Tonghai demanded angrily.

"The Prince has his reasons," Zhong Xian replied. "Think, sir: Lady Wei, despite her villainy, was the wife of the late Emperor. She is of high status. If she were to die at the hands of men like us, and the political winds shift, people would not remember our sacrifices for the Prince; they would call us disrespectful to the late Emperor's widow. That would be a monumental headache. It is better to avoid unnecessary trouble. What do you think?"

Sha Tonghai pondered this, then slapped Zhong Xian on the shoulder. "Old Zhong, you really are the crafty one. Men, forget the pursuit! We’re heading back!"

Zhong Xian smiled as he followed Sha Tonghai back. He had omitted one key point: Li Longji’s confidence in initiating this coup stemmed from his overwhelming military strength. Beyond the eighty thousand iron cavalry of the Anxi Protectorate and Xue Chongjian’s twenty thousand veterans, he controlled two shadow forces: the Martial Training Camp of Cuizhu Island and the Sanyang Sect of the Iron Scales. Li Longji understood the art of balance; he would never allow all the credit to pool with a single force, lest they grow arrogant and become impossible to control. Of course, he could not tell this to Sha Tonghai, who would surely have erupted in fury.

Outside the Daming Palace, guards had seized dozens of horses amidst the chaos, and Lady Wei was helped onto one. "Empress, where shall we go?" someone asked. After a moment of hesitation, she whispered, "To the Flying Cavalry Camp."

The Flying Cavalry was an elite unit tasked with guarding the capital, and it was the closest to the Daming Palace—less than half an hour away at a gallop. If she could hide there for a few days until the loyalist armies arrived from the provinces, Li Longji’s faction would be of no concern. Under the moonlight, the group galloped toward the camp outside the city.

Beside the imperial road, a group of men stood silently on a hillside, having waited for a long time. "Master," one whispered, "we have already slaughtered many of Lady Wei’s ministers in Chang'an, and both men and horses are exhausted. Why are we still waiting here instead of resting?"

The leader replied, "What do you know? The Prince is intentionally gifting us a great achievement! Keep your eyes sharp!"

No sooner had he spoken than the sound of rapid hoofbeats echoed on the road, and dozens of horses sped toward them.

The man cheered, "They’re here! Men, sharpen your spirits! Follow me and attack!" With that, he spurred his horse down the slope.

As Lady Wei rode in a frantic escape, nearly a hundred men in black surged onto the road ahead. Her heart sank. Looking back, she saw that only thirty of her personal guards remained. Her chief eunuch, Yu Muyang, shouted, "The Empress’s carriage approaches! Clear the way!"

The man in the center of the opposing force slowly removed his cloak. It was Iron Scales. He sneered, "I invite the Empress to return to the palace."

Yu Muyang flew into a rage. "How dare you intercept the imperial carriage!" He leveled his long spear and charged. Though a eunuch, he had often served as an army supervisor and was highly skilled in horsemanship and archery, particularly with the long spear.