The Emperor Reigns Them All

Chapter 118 The Conspiracy (2)

Li Ye immediately returned to his residence and summoned Song Jiao, Shangguan Qingcheng, Li Zhen, and the others to discuss the plans for the coup. The plot would be sprung in seven days; there was much work to be allocated to his men.

The contingent of fighters led by Song Jiao comprised of members such as Liu Dazheng and Mo Dongli, all of whom were skilled in combat techniques with powers at Level 8 of the Qi-refining Stage. They would not be useful against Liu Xingshen and Han Wenyue individually, but they were nevertheless a powerful force if grouped together.

The 800-strong personal guards that Shangguan Qingcheng commanded would also be crucial to the plan; the guards were adequately equipped and trained for gritting battles. It was too much of a risk to rely only on the Regal Guards, and hence Li Ye would need an army of his own if he was to seize control of the Imperial Palace to watch the gates and other major passages leading in and out of the palace in case they needed a swift retreat.

Li Zhen would be the brains of the entire operation. Li Ye would go through every detail of the coup with him again and again, from top to bottom, to make sure that everything would move as planned like clockwork.

During the discussion behind closed doors, everyone was astonished to hear Li Ye’s decision to launch a coup. It was so sudden that none of them had ever expected things to take such a drastic turn. This would be a trial, not only for their abilities, but also their temperament and their loyalties, for the coup was in its foremost a plan to execute the two Lieutenants of the Regal Guards but it could be mistaken as a plot to overthrow the Emperor.

But Song Jiao was not as surprised as the others. She was aware of the assassination attempt upon Li Ye. The Black Office had guardians that safeguarded the wellbeing of Li Ye at all times. It was Li Ye’s own decision to not signal for his guardians, and hence they merely stood down as per their orders.

Moreover, there was hardly anything that could surprise Song Jiao since the Battle of Bagong Mountain. It was her who was first to speak. “The Black Office can have the men ready in three days. Seven at the mid-level of the Qi-refining Stage with another twenty above Level 3 of the Qi-refining Stage.”

With the Prince consent, Song Jiao had never stopped amassing men and resources ever since they came to Chang’an. It was expected that such a day where brute force would be needed and the time has come for the Black Office to show its worth.

“No matter! We’ll need everyone who is a Qi-refining cultivator!” Li Ye ordered. He knew that Song Jiao regarded only those above Level 3 to have sufficient fighting strength. But a coup was not a war, and the presence of as many practitioners of the mystic arts would help intimidate any opposition.

“If that’s the case, we’ll have more than 120 men here,” Song Jiao replied. The Black Office was in no short supply of low-leveled warriors of the Qi-refining Stage.

Most nobles would not have more than 100 practitioners of the arcane arts on their retainer. Even Wang Duo and Lu Yan had only twenty to thirty of such talents. They wanted quality over quantity, moreover having too many practitioners as retainers would demand a large sum of money and resources while also attracting criticism from other quarters.

Unlike the rest, Li Ye had allowed the Black Office to gather as many talents and prodigies as they were able to. He had long foreseen the day where he might require to fight against the Regal Guards.

“How are my guards?” Li Ye asked, looking at Shangguan Qingcheng.

“Your personal guards swear undying fealty to you, Your Highness!” Shangguan Qingcheng declared, his eyes gleaming proudly, “We have had many Cultivation Pills assigned to our troops ever since you’ve been made a Prince, Your Highness, and we now have at least eight who are proficient in Qi techniques!”

Li Ye had not the slightest doubt to his personal guards. They swore their allegiances to him and to him alone. They would never desert him even if Li Ye were to openly revolt against the Emperor.

Eight practitioners of Qi techniques might seem paltry in number but their powers would be a great boon in an army especially if used in battle formations. If in an open and broad field, an 800-strong fully equipped army with eight practitioners could give a contingent of fifty Black Office’s practitioners at the elementary levels of the Qi-refining Stage a close fight, and it was hard to tell who would win or lose.

Li Ye nodded with approval, and finally gaze at Li Zhen.

Li Zhen immediately asked of Li Ye’s plans.

He was a straight-forward person who always had his finger on the crux of the problems.

“The security of Chang’an City is managed by the Regal Guards. But the administration is handled by the Chang’an Office. I can use them to move our troops and warriors out of the Manor and have them hidden in parts of the city which are close to the Imperial Palace. When the signal is given, everyone can storm into the Imperial Palace quickly!”

Li Zhen made some quick calculations quietly before he said suddenly, “Why are we not using the Xuanwu Gate?”

An attack from the South would require a long way before the resistance fighters could reach the Emperor’s chambers. The Xuanwu Gate, being the northern entrance of the Imperial Palace complex, was just near the Sleeping Palace of His Majesty, the Emperor, allowing for quicker results before any opposition could be mounted.

Even the great Li Shimin of old had chosen to attack from the Xuanwu Gate during his own coup.

“This is an oversight of my own...” Li Ye muttered, his eyes twinkling with delight at the proposal.

The discussion and debate continued the entire night as Li Ye and his subjects dissected the plan all over again.

They were joined later in the wee hours of the morning by Li Yan and Tian Lingzi. The two had first returned to Li Yan’s residence to make arrangements for their security and the mobilization of his own retainers and troops.

...

Wang Jian sat the front of the barracks, chewing on a bun.

He grew hungry whenever he woke up during this hour, especially he was a great lover of food. He gnawed on his food intently, with a circle of crumbs around his mouth as he continued biting, his eyes glittering with interest as he savored the taste.

The door of the barracks creaked opened and out came Li Maozhen who had just dressed his wounds. He saw Wang Jian sitting on the stone steps and delivered a kick into his hind parts. “Why are you not asleep, Fatty? Instead, here you are, eating at my doorstep!”

Wang Jian ignored him. He continued chomping on his bun with utmost concentration while mumbling through his full mouth, “There is a reason for me sitting here.”

“And what are your reasons?” Li Maozhen asked, a dread rearing its head within him even though he tried his best to hide any apprehension.

“I’m still curious. About tonight’s assassination attempt.” Wang Jian remarked, still biting on his food.

Li Maozhen did not answer. He sat down beside Wang Jian. As a minor commander of the Regal Guards who had 500 men reporting to him, he enjoyed the privilege of having his own cabin. They sat alone in front of the cabin, with the rest of the guards watching the yard outside.

“Do you know why did the Lieutenant order us to try to assassinate Prince An?” Wang Jian’s voice slowly softened that only they could hear each other.

“I care only about my mission, not the intrigues and conspiracies in the Imperial Court,” Li Maozhen remarked dismissively, but a certain urge compelled him to ask, “Have you noticed anything?”

Wang Jian finished his bun, muttering as he got up, patting the crumbs off his hands, “A Lieutenant of the Regal Guards wishing death upon Prince An...” He spun and locked Li Maozhen in a stare, “Have you not heard of the Battle of Bagong Mountain?”

“And what does that have to do with me?” Li Maozhen scoffed.

“Do you think Prince An will merely sit still and wait?” Wang Jian prodded Li Maozhen again.

“I just said, I don’t care! The mission has ended! That is all I know!” Li Maozhen growled.

Wang Jian regarded his comrade, revealing a wry smile. “It has everything to do with you now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing. I just remembered a promise we made to each other.”

“What promise?”

“That we stick together through thick and thin!”

Li Maozhen stopped in his tracks. His face wore a sinister look as he readied himself to strike. “What thick and thin?”

“Prince An,” Wang Jian merely uttered.

“What do you know?” Li Maozhen hissed, his breath getting heavy and his heartbeat rising.

“Nothing! I only know that Prince An will never sit quietly and wait. Moreover, he is extremely close to Prince Pu, who is widely expected to be made Crown Prince!” Wang Jian paused and smirked. “The term ‘extremely close’ is only as provincial as it sounds for common nobility. But the same could not be said for Prince Pu. It bears even more weight that Mount Tai itself!”

“You seem to know Prince Pu well?”

“I only know those that I need to.”

Li Maozhen’s taut expression slackened. “So... You know something, do you?” He smiled bleakly.

“Nope, I don’t.”

“You don’t?”

“I don’t. It’s just an intuition.”

“Intuition?”

“I only don’t want any opportunity to climb up the ladder to slip past my fingers, and my instincts are telling me that there is now one such chance before us!”

Li Maozhen stood up, his eyes boring deep into Wang Jian. There he stood silently for seconds, before he finally spoke, “So, you feel Prince An will win?”

Wang Jian rose to his feet. Li Maozhen looked like a feeble girl beside his huge girth. “It’s a gamble,” Wang Jian said, “We can only leave it to Heaven whether our gamble works. We’ll get nothing if we put nothing in the pot!”

...

Six days flitted by swiftly.

More than 100 cultivators of the Black Office have been slipped out of Prince An’s Manor and they were now biding for their time, hiding in the tenements of common residents. This could not have been done without the help of the Chang’an Office.

Li Ye’s very own 800-strong personal guards would also be secretly mobilized the following day where they would be arranged to be as close to the Xuanwu Gate and the Changle Gate as possible.

Li Ye had ultimately decided that they will launch a two-pronged attack, striking at both northern and southern gates of the Imperial Palace complex.

His personal guards had yet to move because they were too large a force to be moved away from the Prince An’s Manor lest unwanted suspicions might be aroused. Their movements were delayed as much as possible although they would have to strike with all the suddenness they could muster for the best results.

The coup would begin on the midnight of the seventh day.

On the night of the sixth, Li Ye came to Yipin Lou.

A story-teller was deeply engrossed in his antics as he sat beside the stairs leading upstairs with an erhu in his hand.

Huang Chao was not there.

But Li Ye was not here to meet him.

Up on the second floor, Nangong Diyi was sitting at a table with five flasks of liquor, although he had yet to drink from all five of them.

Li Ye dropped to a seat opposite him.

“You’re punctual today,” Nangong Diyi muttered solemnly, his eyes peering upon Li Ye serenely.

“I’m always punctual,” Li Ye remarked and said with a smile, “It’s just that you are early every time.”

“Only a good man will try to come as early as possible, especially if someone is buying him drinks.” Nangong Diyi observed with a humorless expression.

“You and your rhetorics, as always...” Li Ye replied, nodding his head, “But why are you not drinking?”

“I’m afraid that I might not have any chance of drinking again if I were to drink this now,” Nangong Diyi muttered cryptically, shaking his head before he sighed wearily.

Li Ye made no reply. Instead, he looked at his companion. “You can just refrain from taking any action,” he said offhandedly.

“But I will!” Nangong Diyi banged the table as he declared himself. His voice was hardly loudly, although he was serious and grim.

“But why?” Li Ye pressed.

“Because I am at leisure,” Nangong Diyi remarked wryly.

“You don’t seem to be a man who loves a carefree life of leisure and comfort,” Li Ye muttered.

“There’s just nothing I can do at the Observatory! I’m so free that I could almost die of boredom!” Nangong Diyi’s eyes twinkled suddenly with glee. “That is why I must do something! I must let everyone remember that the Empire still has such as apparatus as the Imperial Astronomical Observatory!”

“Doing something is simple enough. But you have to choose your quarry. I trust you are not a brash person to antagonize others easily,” said Li Ye.

“Of course.” “I will enact judgment! Enact judgment upon those who had derailed the importance of the Observatory and turned it into nothing but a petty existence!” said Nangong Diyi.

The greatness of the Observatory reflected the power and majesty of the Empire. Only those who wished ill upon the Empire dared deride the Observatory.

Those who were none other than the four eunuchs of the highest office in the Imperial Court.

...

On the seventh day.

The final glimmer of the sunset glistened upon the window sill.

Liu Sanniang was busy dressing up.

But not herself, but for another person.

A man, clad in robes of green, was sitting before a bronze mirror. She lifted a bunch of his hair and combed it tenderly with love permeating from her eyes.

“This is the first time I am able to dress you up,” said the middle-aged Liu Sanniang, “It is an honor that I only dared to dream of.” The creases on her face formed a smile; one of happiness and bliss.

“This might also be the last,” said the man impassively.

There was a sudden shudder in her hands as she nearly dropped the comb.

She had managed to keep a straight face; a woman of her age and experience would never whimper like a little girl.

Liu Sanniang said and asked no more. She knew full well that this man had his reasons for whatever deed he had done. There was no point of asking if he did not choose to divulge them on his own accord.

When she was done, the man stood up. He walked away without a word, without so much as a message or a simple “thank you”.

Liu Sanniang watched his leaving back, her hand still grasping tightly upon the comb that her knuckles had turned white. She bit her lips, struggling to resist the urge of shedding tears.

She made no sound.

The man drifted slowly towards the door and stopped suddenly.

“I would love to try your osmanthus dessert if I’m able to return alive.”

And he left.

Liu Sanniang watched at the empty door, no longer able to hold back her tears as her face became drenched with sadness and misery. She collapsed to the floor. It took her great effort to stifle her sobs and the exertion had fatigued her.

Quickly, she roused herself, wiping off her tears and getting to her feet.

She would begin making the dessert.

He would return, she believed.

She was not afraid of waiting.

It had been three years.

And she had waited many times.