Chapter Forty-Seven: Thunderous Measures
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In the rear courtyard of the Yuzhang Commandery Office, a gilded incense burner exhaled curling wisps of pale smoke.
Deputy Prefect Qilian lounged against a purple sandalwood couch, two maids with their garments half undone kneading his shoulders and neck. On the table lay grapes from the Western Regions and chilled plum syrup; the amber liquid in a glazed cup reflected the sharp, fierce lines of his brow and eyes. In this year of devastating drought, such extravagance was especially glaring.
“Sir, there is a report from the city defense,” a personal guard knelt outside the beaded curtain, his armor still stained with fresh blood. “A merchant caravan entered the city a few days ago. The leader appears to be a scion of a noble family.”
Qilian narrowed his eyes, his fingertip tracing the pale wrist of a maid. “Have you uncovered their true identity?”
“They claim to be a branch of the Mi family from Xuzhou, and they handed Chen Dase three sacks of gold beads,” the guard said, presenting a heavy cloth bag. “This is their toll.”
“The Mi family?” Qilian picked up a gold bead and held it to the candlelight, then sneered coldly. “The Mi clan of Xuzhou was wiped out by Cao Mengde three years ago. Where would a branch come from?” He slammed the gold beads onto the green bricks, startling the maids into retreat. “They must be spies from Luoyang! Go fetch Gongsun...”
Before he could finish, a deep drumbeat suddenly sounded from afar.
“Dum—dum—dum—”
Qilian pushed away the maids and stepped barefoot onto the cold floor tiles. This was the city office’s alarm drum, silent for three years since he usurped the prefect’s authority. The faint clang of metal and the rising shouts came from the window lattice.
“Report!” a bloodied clerk burst through the courtyard gate. “An army... an army is besieging the city! They fly black dragon banners!”
...
At the south gate of the commandery city, armored soldiers swarmed like a dark cloud pressing down.
The two warriors Erniu held aloft a tiger tally and thundered, “By imperial decree, the Prefect of Yuzhang receives the imperial escort!” Behind them, three thousand elite troops shouted in unison, startling a flock of crows into flight. The sunlight glinted off their cold spear tips, casting a chilling gleam.
The city guards atop the walls scrambled in chaos. Several veterans suddenly pointed and cried out toward the western ramparts, “The drawbridge! The drawbridge is moving!”
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The city gate’s drawbridge thundered down, and Zhou Yi, drenched in blood, charged through the gate, followed by over a hundred refugees wielding farming tools. His steel blade still dripped crimson; his coarse cloth tunic was slashed three times.
“Benefactor! Three hundred defenders at the east gate have surrendered! Those beasts fled faster than rabbits when they heard the emperor himself was coming!”
Liu Xie rode up wearing a dark dragon robe, his Zhanlu sword humming with a fierce dragon’s cry at his waist. Behind him were twenty shadow guards, death warriors dispatched by Gai Xun from Chang’an, their black masks revealing only eyes sharp as cold stars. The townsfolk peeked from their ruined homes, gaunt faces flickering with hope.
“Watch out, sir!” Zhou Yi suddenly lunged, swinging his steel blade three inches behind Liu Xie.
With a clang of metal, the masked assassin’s dagger was knocked aside by a sword strike. Sun Nu was swift, her feet barely touching the ground as she tried to flee, but the shadow guards unleashed a golden silk net soaked in tung oil, tightening with every struggle.
“Miss Sun, we meet again,” Liu Xie said, his sword still sheathed, eyes like a blazing torch piercing her veil. “This time, is it the Yellow Heaven Sect or the Yue Marquis Mansion?” Noticing the coiled dragon embroidery at her sleeve’s edge—an emblem of the previous dynasty’s royal family.
“Damn you, emperor!” Sun Nu tore off her veil, her stunning face twisted with hatred. “You slaughtered my entire Sun family! Today...” Suddenly, she froze, realizing the refugees all knelt, loudly chanting “Long live the emperor!”
A sudden gleam flashed—three bone-piercing darts aimed straight for Liu Xie’s throat!
In an instant, the Zhanlu sword rang out as it was drawn. A sword aura like a rainbow cleaved the poisoned darts to dust midair. Liu Xie’s wrist flicked lightly; the sword tip pressed against Sun Nu’s brow. “In the second year of Jian’an, the Sun family’s collusion with Yuan Shu was proven beyond doubt. I only punish the ringleader—where is this ‘entire family’ you speak of?” He emphasized the words “ringleader,” watching her pupils shrink in shock.
Sun Nu suddenly remembered the scorched earth she saw that night returning home. The butler’s charred corpse guarded the cellar entrance, but her younger brother who should have been inside was nowhere to be found...
“Take her away,” Liu Xie sheathed his sword. “I want her alive.”
...
In the main hall of the commandery office, Qilian was dragged in, still shouting, “I am an appointed official of the court! You all—” His voice abruptly ceased. The bright yellow imperial edict hung above, beneath the nine-tailed crown the young emperor’s gaze reminded him of the true dragon carving he saw three years ago in the imperial temple of Luoyang—a majesty surpassing even the late sovereign.
“Deputy Prefect Qilian of Yuzhang, charged with embezzling three hundred thousand shi of disaster relief grain,” Liu Xie’s voice was calm but each word cut like a blade. “Illegally establishing twenty-seven prisons, forcibly seizing four thousand qing of farmland—” He slammed the edict heavily on the desk, scattering sparrows from the beams. “Qilian, do you know your crimes?”
“I... I...” Qilian suddenly pointed at Gongsun Ye. “It’s that soldier who coerced me! He wields the military power...”
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“Nonsense!” Gongsun Ye’s eyes blazed with fury. “Those courtesans were clearly yours...” Suddenly he froze, an arrow shaft lodged halfway down his throat. Blood sprayed onto Qilian’s face, who then collapsed in shock.
Liu Xie’s cold gaze swept over a shadow flickering past the eaves—he knew someone was silenced. He swept his sleeve and rose. “By imperial decree: Qilian is dismissed and investigated; his assets confiscated. Gongsun Ye is stripped of his captaincy and sent to Chang’an under escort.” He paused, looking out at the dense crowds outside. “Open the government granaries and distribute grain!”
“Long live His Majesty!” The roar shook the rafters like thunder. A white-haired old woman wept clutching newly received millet, while children chased after the grain carts, joyous and shouting.
In a corner, Jia Xu observed everything with sharp eyes. When he saw Liu Xie deliberately retain evidence of the Yue Marquis Mansion’s crimes, a knowing smile appeared—so the young emperor sought not only Yuzhang but also the tangled guilt embedded in Jiangdong’s noble families. This game had been set in motion three years ago with the Sun family’s annihilation.
...
That night, in the commandery prison.
Sun Nu gazed at the food box outside her cell and suddenly caught the scent of familiar osmanthus. Hidden in the lowest tier was her childhood favorite chestnut cake, its flaky crust embossed with the unique plum blossom pattern of the Sun family. Memories surged like tides—each birthday, her mother had lovingly made this delicacy...
“Miss Sun,” Liu Xie’s voice came from the shadows, “do you know where this cake came from?”
The stone door of the dark cell creaked open. In the dim candlelight, a bent old servant emerged. Sun Nu’s chestnut cake fell to the floor with a soft clatter. “Fubo? You’re not...”
“The old servant hid the young master in the cellar for three days and nights,” the old man wept openly. “It was the shadow guards who found us through the secret passage...” He trembled as he pulled out half a jade pendant, perfectly matching the one around Sun Nu’s neck.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted outside the prison. A jailer shouted, “The granary is flooding!”
Liu Xie gripped his sword hilt, but then Jia Xu hurried in, revealing half a yellow silk scroll—the edict of the Yellow Heaven Sect.
“Your Majesty, the Yue Marquis Mansion has moved,” the strategist’s eyes gleamed. “They intend to burn more than just the granary...”