A Single Tie Of Long Hair Seals A Lifelong Commitment - Chapter 49

The mud on her fingertips concealed the annual-ring-like lines of her fingerprints, her hands long since become coarse and rough, unlike a young woman’s.

Her fingernails were unpainted and lacked luster.

They were like her eyes, resembling dried-up, withered wells. In such deep wells, one could not find a trace of desire for “life.”

Other than annihilation, she felt only relief.

This day had finally come.

Since she had personally killed Qiu Shiyan, her heart felt as if a heavy yoke had been placed upon it. She had killed the son of a high official in Yongdu, and she didn’t know when someone would come to demand a price from her.

Her parents had died unjustly, and she had nowhere to appeal for redress; her sisters were lost without a word; Zhao Mingqin had been exiled to the ends of the desolate frontier, where huge barriers of barbed wire with sharp barbs isolated any thought that attempted to cross them.

The people inside, unless a grand amnesty was granted, would not be released unless they were dead.

It seemed she and her surviving relatives would never get to see each other again.

The moment she fell into the hands of the government soldiers, the thousand-catty burden that had been pressing on her for years seemed to be heavily lifted, and Pu Ping’er felt a long-lost lightness and relief.

If death could eliminate filth and cleanse the human heart, then she was willing to hand over her drifting life in exchange for a clear conscience.

Since she was going to die, she might as well die with more candor.

She simply confessed to the murder in Yongdu, which seemed to have nothing to do with her.

Qiu Renshan was also in Chong’an, and she knew she would not have a pleasant death. That was exactly what she sought.

As the whip fell on her body again and again, tearing her skin and flesh, she actually felt very safe, even a little happy.

The sounds of the outside world grew fainter and fainter in her ears.

The iron door of the cell was pushed open, letting out a sharp, painful scrape, which sounded to her like merely the “rustle” of wind blowing through forest leaves.

“Ping’er.”

It seemed to be Zhao Mingqin.

Zhao Mingqin stood in the past years, still under the pomegranate tree in the courtyard at home, picking the largest, reddest fruit from the branch, gathering it up in his robe, and waving, “Ping’er, come quickly.”

Then he called toward the rooms of Zhao Panzhi and Zhao Guzhi, “Eldest sister, second sister, you come too.”

Zhao Mingqin drew his sword, lightly slicing a four-sided square opening on the calyx of the pomegranate. He gripped it and applied a little force, his prominent blue veins standing out more, and broke the crimson fruit into several sections.

The few of them peeled and shared them, putting the remaining pomegranate arils into a wooden bucket and lowering it into the well water to chill.

Zhao Mingqin’s voice was like the fresh fruit soaked in cold water, sweet and clear.

Pu Ping’er leaned her hand against the damp wall, sliding down weakly, partially smearing the outline she had just been drawing.

“Ping’er.”

That familiar voice seemed to pass through the overlapping years, across the Heavenly Abyss and the Weak Water, reaching her ears.

She was about to hear nothing at all.

A pair of large hands pulled her into a solid chest, and then her feet left the ground; she was lifted up.

The cell door was low. As Zhao Mingqin bent down to exit, he held her lower and heard a faint whisper.

“…handkerchief.”

“Handkerchief?” Zhao Mingqin asked, “Ping’er, what handkerchief do you want?”

“Give it back… to me…”

A handkerchief? Chen Liangyu was slightly startled. Her life was about to end, yet she was still worried about some handkerchief. Could it be the square handkerchief she had sealed with her stamp?

When the jailer heard this, he shuddered all over, “A handkerchief, yes, yes, yes, this death row inmate…”

He blurted out the words ‘death row inmate,’ only to realize with alarm that the two people who had come were influential figures he couldn’t afford to offend, especially the woman waiting outside the cell, whose demeanor was extraordinary, and even Prefect Du had to walk behind her. Since they had personally come to the foul place of the dungeon to find that death row inmate, she must be someone important. So, he changed to a polite phrasing and pronounced clearly, “This young lady. This young lady did indeed have a piece of silk brocade and a few copper coins on her when she arrived. But the brocade was of top-grade material, which a wood-gatherer couldn’t afford, so we assumed she stole it. She didn’t admit it, nor could she explain its origin, so it was confiscated and tossed in the storeroom.”

However, later, seeing the handkerchief was valuable and ownerless, he secretly pocketed it when no one was looking.

Chen Liangyu frowned.

The handkerchief bore her name and military seal. Even if her name wasn’t famous, was there really no one who recognized that the seal mark was a military insignia?

Zhao Mingqin walked toward the exit, holding her.

Du Peixun said, “Go find it.”

The jailer answered and quickly ran to search.

The prison head stopped him, “I stored the item, I’ll go find it, I’ll go find it.”

He pretended to search around, rummaged through the storeroom, pulled the handkerchief out of his own pocket, and presented it with both hands.

Only upon taking the handkerchief did Chen Liangyu understand why no one had brought the brocade to find her. The few words she had written in blood were already faded and incomplete. The color of the stamp she had pressed on the brocade was originally faint, and after being soaked with sweat, it was completely impossible to tell what had been there.

The carriage sped back to the border post.

The person squatting by the wall was gone; Jiang Bojin’s whereabouts were unknown.

The stationmaster stretched out his arm and escorted Zhao Mingqin to a spacious post-house room, sending someone to fetch a doctor.

Two people stood in the post-house courtyard. One was honest and robust, the other was clad in black robes with a large cowl obscuring his face.

The honest and robust person seemed to have seen a long-lost friend upon seeing Chen Liangyu. He excitedly rushed over, shouting, “Commander.”

It was Gao Guan.

Gao Guan had been promoted to General of the Left Imperial Guard, ranking Third Grade, the same as Chen Liangyu. Having been accustomed to calling her this before, he hadn’t thought to change it.

“General Gao,” Chen Liangyu said, “Why are you here in Chong’an instead of guarding His Majesty’s safety in the palace?”

Gao Guan glanced at the other person.

The black robe had already turned around, clutching an iron-plated letter tube in his hand.

“Elder Yan.”

The black robe was precisely Yan Baizhang.

Gao Guan said, “I was dismissed from my post and demoted to the Garrison Commander of Pincheng. It was Military Advisor Yan who cared for my future and told me to come south to pledge allegiance to His Highness, the Prince of Shen. Yongdu is no longer the Yongdu of yesterday. Prime Minister Zhang was impeached, and many priceless antique paintings and calligraphy were found in his residence. He was stripped of his rank and executed for corruption. Prime Minister Xun is also confined to his residence, with guards posted. ”

“Elder Yan, where are my parents?”

Chen Liangyu’s fingers gripping the Lancang tightened, her white knuckles betraying her nervousness.

She was like a fully drawn bow, taut, ready to snap or to release an arrow from the string to demand a life.

Yan Baizhang avoided her gaze. After a long while, he carefully drew a letter from his bosom and handed it to Chen Liangyu. Then, with difficulty, he said, “The Marquis and the Madam… have passed away. The palace ordered the news to be kept secret and no funeral to be held.”

It was all too clear who “the palace” was. Emperor Xuanyuan and Chen Yuanqing shared a deep friendship, so he would never allow Chen Yuanqing to die without burial. Therefore, it could only be Prince Qi who issued the decree in Emperor Xuanyuan’s name. Prince Qi was wary of the northern border garrison and the troops in Chen Liangyu’s hands. If the north and south rose up simultaneously to suppress the rebellion and aid the emperor, attacking him from both ends, the situation would be extremely unfavorable to him.

Chen Liangyu’s hands trembled so much she could barely hold the letter.

On it was He Yunzhou’s handwriting, mostly farewell words of acceptance of fate and endless consolation to her children. Only the last sentence was written with more forceful vigor: My child, remember, do not submit to the treacherous rebel.

“Now, most of the families of the civil and military officials in Yongdu are under the control of Prince Qi. The local powerful clans already held many grievances against the Department of Agriculture and Sericulture. After Prince Qi abolished it, the clans were all inclined to support him. Many of the clan sons hold important positions in the court, and Lin Zhong, the Commander of the Imperial Guard, is one of them. During this time, Prince Qi has been suppressing the officials, holding His Majesty hostage, and has almost replaced all the generals of the Imperial Palace Guard and the Yongdu Garrison.”

“How did my parents die?”

“Prince Qi placed His Majesty under house arrest in the palace, intending to control the officials in the name of the emperor. On that day, a young palace attendant delivered a secret edict. The Marquis was about to follow the decree to mobilize troops to rescue the emperor, but he found he could not mobilize the Yongdu Garrison and the twelve Imperial Guards. Lin Zhong led the Imperial Guard and the Garrison to surround the Marquis’s residence, labeling the Marquisate as ‘rebellious’ and besieging it.”

A siege was a strategy used in attacking a city, cutting off all reinforcements to the city, exhausting its grain and supplies, and waiting for those inside to run out of provisions and surrender.

Naturally, the Marquis’s residence would not sit still and wait for death.

“The Marquis and the Madam led their private soldiers to break out of the encirclement, sending out the news of the Crown Prince’s death and Prince Qi’s grand rebellion.”

The news of Xie Yu’s death finally could not be concealed.

When Prince Qi ordered Lin Zhong to kill Xie Yu, he missed one crucial step. Originally, with the Crown Prince’s death, he could control the officials, appoint new generals, find an appropriate time to declare externally that the Crown Prince had suddenly died of an acute illness, and then force Emperor Xuanyuan to abdicate, which would have been a smooth transition.

The only thing he didn’t expect was that the Imperial Seal of State was taken out of Yongdu by Xie Wenjun. Without the seal, even if Emperor Xuanyuan drafted an edict of abdication to relinquish the throne to him, it would not be legitimate.

That was why he had not yet ascended the throne and claimed the title of Emperor.

“Plop,” several uneven water stains appeared on the letter, blurring the ink on the paper.

“Did my elder brother and sister-in-law know?”

“They know. Letters from the Feimeng were sent to the North and to Zhudong early on. The North has dispatched some troops to Zhudong to resist the Eastern Yin, and the Northern Yong is gathering large numbers of soldiers to garrison the border. Your elder brother is severely constrained.”

When Jiang Bojin first created the Feimeng (Flying Locusts), he intended to forge it into a military intelligence network that could respond to a single call, so that after the lord issued an order, the generals in various places could immediately gather and respond.

The idea was too grand. However, such a complex military intelligence organization was very costly, and was rarely used, so it was abolished by the Prince of Fengde. Later, the Feimeng was only used to gather and transmit messages hidden among the common people in the markets.

Jiang Bojin suggested that the Prince of Fengde massacre a city to cut off the enemy’s retreat, an act that drew widespread public outrage. The Prince of Fengde, pressured by public opinion, dealt with Jiang Bojin, and the Feimeng was taken over by Yan Baizhang, only to be used for emergency contact among the immediate family members of the Marquis of Xuanping.

Yan Baizhang patted her on the shoulder several times, “Prince Qi intends to usurp the throne. We must quickly meet with His Highness, the Prince of Shen, to discuss countermeasures. There is one matter we must also guard against: those in Yongdu are intent on hunting down and killing Her Highness, Princess Jiangning.”

This was the part that baffled him. Instead of first focusing on eliminating the Prince of Shen, who also had the status of a royal heir, and guarding against the Prince of Shen raising an army to compete for the throne, they were surprisingly concerned about a Princess.

“This is an unshared hatred I will remember!”

Chen Liangyu looked in the direction of Yongdu, her gaze conveying a murderous intent capable of crushing everything.

This deep-seated vengeance awaited her to claim retribution!

Xie Wenjun walked in from beneath the antiquated corridor eaves. Everyone greeted her.

The tear stains on Chen Liangyu’s eyelashes had not yet dried. The red blood vessels in her eyes were like streaks of crimson silk, spreading across her entire eye socket, wrapped in endless killing intent.

Seeing her approach, she concealed some of the look in her eyes and bowed in greeting.

She must have heard. Heard the words “hunting down and killing.”

Chen Liangyu said, “Your Highness, you have me.”

A spring thunderclap suddenly sounded, like the drumbeat of a military advance.

On the fifth day of the third month, the Jingzhe (Awakening of Insects) solar term.

Xie Wenjun widely issued the Emperor’s Edict, again proclaiming the death of Crown Prince Xie Yu, and announcing to the world the three crimes of Prince Qi, Xie Xuan: regicide of his brother, imprisonment of the sovereign, and usurpation of power.