Chapter Eighty-Three: An Assassin

During the day, Li Duozuo, accompanied by several trusted guards, went hunting in the western outskirts of Chang’an. The place, being close to the main road, naturally offered little in the way of large game—only some wild hares and badgers to be found. However, as the Grand General of the Imperial Guards, tasked with the security of the capital, he could not neglect his duties by venturing far afield, and so it was only reasonable that he satisfied his hunting urge by shooting hawks and hares nearby.

By dusk, they had caught a dozen or more hares. Seeing the late hour, Li Duozuo laughed and said, “Not far from here is the camp of the Right Gate Guards. Let’s go there, roast our hares, and have a good drink!” With that, he spurred his horse and rode swiftly to the camp.

The commander of the Right Gate Guards, Dugu Wei, along with his deputies Li Chengkuang and Zhou Li, welcomed the Grand General with a banquet, as was proper. When the wine had gone round and all were half-drunk, Li Duozuo dismissed the attendants, raised his bowl, and said, “Gentlemen, allow me to toast you.”

The assembled officers hurriedly stood and responded in unison, “We do not dare accept such honor!” Li Duozuo gave a bitter laugh. “Why not? I fear that soon, there will be fewer and fewer chances to drink together.” With that, he threw his bowl to the ground and wept bitterly. The officers anxiously inquired as to the reason.

Li Duozuo asked, “All of you have seen His Majesty. Since he ascended the throne over a year ago, have you noticed any changes?” No one dared to answer. Li Duozuo turned to Dugu Wei. “You speak.”

Unable to refuse, Dugu Wei said in a low voice, “When His Majesty first took the throne, he was wise and resolute, but now…”

Li Duozuo interrupted, “But now he is foolish and ridiculous! Is that not so?” Dugu Wei’s face turned ashen. “I never said such a thing!”

Li Duozuo said, “No need for alarm. Have you ever considered the reason for this?” The officers exchanged uneasy glances. “We do not know, General. Please enlighten us,” they replied.

Li Duozuo lowered his voice. “The Wei woman and Wu Sansi were discovered by the Emperor in their illicit affair. Fearing exposure, that pair of dogs… they murdered the Emperor! The man on the throne now is but an imposter, a puppet to deceive and mislead!” With that, he collapsed to the ground in tears, bowing repeatedly toward the southwest.

“Late Emperor, I, Li Duozuo, am powerless—I failed to safeguard the Li dynasty, leaving your descendants to be shamed by outsiders. I am guilty!” At these words, the officers were all stricken with terror.

With a trembling voice, Dugu Wei asked, “General, is this truly so?” Li Duozuo replied, “To spread false rumors of the Emperor’s death is a crime punishable by the extermination of one’s entire clan. I would not dare to speak recklessly.” Li Chengkuang said, “Those people are truly audacious, to dare regicide!”

Li Duozuo said, “Their ambitions are grand indeed. Not content with regicide, they seek to use that puppet’s name to gradually eliminate all of us loyal officials and replace us with members of the Wei clan. They aim to seize the throne! Will you be meek lambs led to slaughter, or rise as loyal heroes to save the realm? Decide now!” The officers shouted, “We are men of courage and blood! We will not let women decide our fate—let us fight to the death!” Li Duozuo laughed, “Now you prove yourselves true men! Come, let us discuss our plans further.”

That night, under a moonless, windy sky, Zhou Li, accompanied by three retainers, slipped hurriedly out of the Right Gate Guards’ camp and galloped toward Chang’an. Earlier, when Li Duozuo had summoned Dugu Wei and the other officers for a secret midnight meeting, Zhou Li, as deputy commander, had been present. Halfway through, he realized Li Duozuo intended to force the palace and rebel. Initially seized with fear, he was soon overjoyed, thinking, “Heaven helps me! Dugu Wei must be tired of living to plot treason. If I am the first to inform the palace, such a merit will surely earn me the rank of Grand General of Huaihua, third grade—more than enough!” With that, he excused himself to the latrine, gathered his trusted men, and fled toward Chang’an.

They had scarcely traveled a dozen miles when suddenly six men in black blocked the road ahead. Looking back, Zhou Li saw six more silently closing off their retreat. In the distance, a man in red armor sat astride a horse, laughing, “General Zhou, where are you headed so late at night? Are you rushing to the palace with news?”

By the faint moonlight, Zhou Li tried to make out the man’s face, but the shadows concealed his features. A sense of impending doom seized him. Fearing attention as they left camp, they had not brought their usual spears or bows, only their waist daggers. Drawing his blade, Zhou Li shouted, “Brothers, charge through!”

His retainers, seasoned killers from the borderlands, spurred their mounts and charged, blades flashing. The leader among the black-clad men unfolded a white paper fan as if giving a signal. Instantly, the others raised their strange, slender swords and leapt forward.

Zhou Li and his men, though fierce in battle, were trained for open combat, not the nimble arts of the martial world. Lacking their proper weapons, they were soon surrounded. In such close quarters, cavalry was at a dire disadvantage; once foot soldiers got beneath horse and rider, defeat was certain.

After a few exchanges, the horses’ legs were cut from under them, and the beasts fell with anguished cries, crushing the retainers beneath their massive bodies. The black-clad men rushed forward, hacking the pinned soldiers into bloody pulp. Zhou Li reacted swiftly, kicking off the saddle and leaping clear. The black-clad men closed in. Zhou Li calculated that if they dodged, he might break through the encirclement—if not escape, then at least reach that man in red and die together.

With all his strength, he stabbed at the nearest black-clad man. To his shock, the man did not dodge, letting the dagger pierce his heart. Even as he died, he dropped his sword, seized Zhou Li in a death grip, and the others hacked Zhou Li into pieces. The stabbed man was dead, but his comrades carried his body aside, sprinkled it with powder, and in a moment, a strange flame consumed the corpse to ash. They carefully placed the ashes in a wooden box and strapped it to their backs.

From afar, the man in red shook his head and sighed, “Zhou Li was a brave man at the borders, but got caught in this web of intrigue—what a pity.” With that, he ordered the black-clad men to vanish into the night.

Before long, hoofbeats thundered as Li Duozuo and his men arrived in pursuit, only to find the mangled corpses of Zhou Li and his followers.

A sense of foreboding filled Li Duozuo’s heart. Who had killed Zhou Li to silence him? Was someone orchestrating these events from the shadows? Suddenly, a voice called out from the distance, “General Li, you are late. Fortunately, I stopped Zhou Li. Otherwise, you would have had no peace!” Looking up, Li Duozuo saw a man in red armor atop a distant hill. “Who are you?” he demanded. The man in red laughed, “I know you, but you do not know me. We shall meet again—there’s no need to ask now.” With that, he rode off, the red figure soon lost in the moonlit night.

This incident shook the officers of the Right Gate Guards. They had thought themselves moving in secret, yet found every step watched and controlled. Many grew hesitant and doubtful. Receiving the report, Li Chongjun realized there was no time to lose. Any further delay might sap morale. He resolved to act that very night, though only the three hundred soldiers in Dugu Wei’s central camp were willing to join the cause and enter the palace in the name of defending the realm.

That night, Li Duozuo led three hundred Right Gate Guards straight to the Prime Minister Wu Sansi’s mansion.

The night watch at the Prime Minister’s residence were yawning as they patrolled. Wu Sansi’s power was so great that ordinary people dared not even walk past the mansion, let alone intrude upon it, so the guards did little but make routine rounds and dream of when they could finally return to bed.

Suddenly, a thunderous sound shook the front gate, dust billowing from the entry hall. The startled guards wondered—were bandits truly attacking in the heart of the imperial city? Before they could collect themselves, another crash brought the vermilion doors down. A host of armored soldiers stormed in, weapons raised, Li Duozuo shouting, “By order of the Crown Prince: Wu Sansi is guilty of treason, his entire household to be exterminated—kill them all!” These guards, long accustomed to swaggering under the Prime Minister’s power, had no stomach for battle. In moments, they were cut down.

Wu Sansi, roused from sleep by the sounds of slaughter, thought at first it a nightmare. When his disheveled steward burst in, he realized disaster had struck. As he rushed to the door, Li Duozuo was already upon him.

Forcing himself to remain calm, Wu Sansi shouted, “Li Duozuo, how dare you kill the Prime Minister? Do you intend to rebel? I advise you to lay down your arms and come with me to the palace to confess. His Majesty will surely show mercy for my sake!”

Li Duozuo sneered, “Old scoundrel! Do you take me for a child?” Just then, a scream rang out from the rear courtyard. Wu Songlin, disheveled, ran in terror as a dozen guards pursued her. Someone shouted, “We risk our lives every day in battle, yet have never known what it’s like to have the Prime Minister’s daughter. Tonight, let’s enjoy ourselves!”

Wu Sansi trembled all over, pointing at Li Duozuo and screaming, “You beast! You break into the Prime Minister’s residence and insult my family!” Li Chongjun sneered, “Wu Sansi, how many families have you destroyed, how many innocent women have you humiliated? Now your retribution has come!”

Livid and speechless, Wu Sansi lunged forward, but Li Duozuo, prepared, swung his blade and took off his head. He then seized Wu Songlin by the hair and barked, “You little wretch! How arrogant you were at the jade shop by Chang’an Gate—if not for fear of sullying my lord’s reputation, I would make you wish you were dead!” With that, he drew the blade gently across her throat, ending her life at once.

A soldier dragged Wu Songlin’s younger brother from under the bed and beheaded him in the courtyard. Like a tidal wave, the soldiers swept from the front to the rear of the mansion, slaughtering nearly everyone in the Prime Minister’s household—but Anle Princess was nowhere to be found. Seeing time was short, Li Chongjun ordered his men to form ranks and charge the Daming Palace.

While the Prime Minister’s residence was being wiped out, the Right Imperial Guards’ General Liu Jingren was indulging himself at the Spring Flower Pavilion, a place of great luxury, frequented by the wealthy and powerful of the capital.

Liu Jingren, deep in his cups, was startled by the sound of a beaded curtain. Through his drunken haze, he saw a man in red pushing aside the curtain. “Don’t you see I’m here? Get out!” he shouted.

The man laughed, “To call yourself ‘master’ before me is a crime against the royal house.” Liu Jingren blinked and realized to his horror that the man in red was Prince Li Longji of Linzi. He fell to his knees. “I did not know Your Highness had arrived—please forgive my failure to greet you properly!” (To be continued.)