Thinking of the assassin

Zhangsun Zhi, having just returned from the hunt, recounted the strange events to Gao Qingyun, who sat with their two-month-old son, Zhangsun Hongfei, nestled in her arms. After hearing Zhangsun Zhi’s tale, Gao Qingyun, too, found it all quite peculiar. Yet, Zhangsun Hongfei’s eyes widened as he mused, “A flying sword capable of independent combat—this is nothing less than object control! Is this the art of cultivation? But that cannot be, cultivators would not be so feeble. Whatever it is, it is certainly not the Great Tang I know.”

“Yiya… ya… ya…” Zhangsun Hongfei babbled noisily in Gao Qingyun’s arms.

“This child must need the privy again,” Gao Qingyun said with a gentle smile.

“Haha, this little one is so much easier than Dalang or Erlang were at his age,” Zhangsun Zhi laughed in kind.

“Indeed, he seldom cries or fusses, as if he understands everything already. Even the maids, servants, and household guards all dote on him. He isn’t even afraid of Liu San—he’ll go right up and touch his face. Poor Liu San has been moved to tears several times for it.”

Liu San had once served as a soldier under Zhangsun Zhi. In battle, he lost an arm and was left with a scar across his face—frightening enough to reduce most children to tears. Now, he tended horses and lighter chores within the Zhangsun household.

“My grandson is destined for greatness; who knows, perhaps a deity has descended to the mortal realm in his guise.”

Meanwhile, in the Gold Raven Prison, a warden was lashing Yu Lianzhou with a whip. Yu Lianzhou’s body was a tapestry of bruises and broken skin. At last, wearied by the effort, the warden set the whip aside, took a swig of wine, and said, “That one’s got a spine of steel. Days of beating, and not once did he beg for mercy. Whenever questioned, he has but one answer: ‘I want to see the Sage.’ If not for General Cao Duhua’s express orders, I might have relented by now.”

Another warden jeered, “Old Chen, since when do you turn your back on silver?”

“We’re not the Punitive Prison—no strange torments here. If you think he’ll talk, take him over there and see what happens,” muttered a third, his tone tinged with grievance.

Old Chen did not take offense, but only chuckled and said, “Drink up.” Then, dropping his voice, he added, “But mark my words, this one is a killer. You wouldn’t know it, but more than twenty men from the Left Thousand Bull Guard died trying to capture him. Who knows how many more were wounded? Even General Cao Duhua himself was hurt by this man.”

The others scoffed, “Old Chen, you must be drunk again, spinning tales.”

Old Chen bristled, “Why would I lie? My own brother serves in the Left Thousand Bull Guard—he was there that day. Told me himself last night over drinks. Think about it: why else would General Cao Duhua hate him so, and order us to treat him with such care?”

The others pondered a moment and nodded; then, catching themselves, laughed, “Ah, what does it matter to us? Eat, drink, and be merry.” And so their conversation drifted on.

As for Yu Lianzhou, he felt a strange unease. Save the daily whippings, no one came to question him. It seemed pure vengeance. On the first day, a man of apparent importance had come, but asked nothing. Did the Sage care nothing for his abilities? The whippings were nothing, but if he could not meet the Sage and share his plans, all this suffering would be for naught. He began to contemplate escape.

That day, Li Ji’an was in the Hall of Virtue, attending to state affairs, when a commotion arose outside.

“Oh, Princess, please slow down! Allow this old servant to announce you! Your Highness… Your Highness…”

The doors flew open and a little girl, perhaps three or four years old, came running in, trailed by a eunuch. She wore a red cross-collared jacket over a blue skirt, her hair styled in hanging loops adorned with two floral ornaments, and pearls glinted atop her shoes. This was Princess Yucheng, daughter of Xu Yuhé, titled Lady of the Fourth Rank.

“Sage… this… this…” The eunuch stammered in panic, unsure what to say.

“It’s fine. You may leave,” Li Ji’an said, smiling at the little girl, unconcerned, as he stepped out from behind his desk.

At these words, the eunuch let out a long sigh of relief and withdrew.

“Yucheng, what brings you to see your father? Where is your mother?” Li Ji’an lifted her into his arms and asked softly.

“Mother is sleeping. Father fainted, so I came to see you,” Yucheng replied with a milky voice.

Li Ji’an paused, then realized she must mean the incident during the hunt, and could not help but laugh. “Then, stay here with me for a while, and afterwards I’ll take you to play—would you like that?”

“Yes!” Yucheng answered, drawing out the word.

“Gaoyuan, bring a folding stool,” Li Ji’an ordered the eunuch behind him.

“At once, Your Majesty.” Gaoyuan quickly fetched a stool and set it beside Li Ji’an, who seated Yucheng upon it and returned to his official duties.

He was not yet finished when a eunuch approached and whispered, “Sage, Consort Xu has arrived.”

Knowing she had come for Yucheng, Li Ji’an said, “Let her in.”

Soon, an elegant and dignified lady entered, saluted Li Ji’an, and he asked, “Awake from your nap?”

“I was overcome by drowsiness and let Yucheng disturb Your Majesty. I beg forgiveness,” Xu Yuhé said, bowing again.

“It’s nothing,” Li Ji’an replied absently, intent on his documents.

“Then I will take Yucheng back.”

Li Ji’an merely grunted in reply. Xu Yuhé, a little crestfallen, took Yucheng from Gaoyuan and curtsied, “I take my leave.” Li Ji’an nodded again.

“I will join you both once I have finished these affairs,” Li Ji’an called as Xu Yuhé reached the doors.

Hearing this, Xu Yuhé’s disappointment faded, and she left after another bow.

When they were gone, Li Ji’an asked, “What of the man seized at Mount Taiyi?”

If not for Yucheng’s mention of his fainting, Li Ji’an might have forgotten entirely.

“He is still held in the Gold Raven Prison. I do not know more,” Gaoyuan replied after thinking for a moment.

Li Ji’an pondered, then said, “Summon Liu Renwu to see me.”

“At once, Your Majesty,” Gaoyuan replied, hurrying off to relay the command.

Not long after, a stern-faced general with a square jaw and clad in dark armor, a ceremonial robe embroidered with a python motif draped over his shoulders, entered. This was Liu Renwu, Commander of the Gold Raven Guard.

“Your servant, Liu Renwu, greets the Sage,” he said with a bow.

“What is the condition of the man apprehended at Mount Taiyi?”

“I have seen him once. He only asks to see the Sage—nothing more,” Liu Renwu answered, puzzled. After the transfer to the prison, there had been no further instructions, leaving him uncertain about what to do.

“He wishes to see me? Why?” Li Ji’an asked, perplexed.

“That I do not know,” Liu Renwu replied.

After a moment’s thought, Li Ji’an ordered, “Bring him to me.”

“At once,” Liu Renwu replied, and withdrew.

Upon arriving at the prison, Liu Renwu ignored the wardens’ idleness and went straight to Yu Lianzhou’s cell, ordering his men to escort the prisoner.

Yu Lianzhou recognized Liu Renwu, knowing him for a man of rank. Seeing their preparations, he guessed their intent and felt a spark of excitement; he did not resist as they placed the shackles upon him.

Soon, Liu Renwu brought Yu Lianzhou to the Hall of Virtue. After receiving the eunuch’s announcement, they were admitted.

“Sage, the prisoner is here,” Liu Renwu said with a bow.

At the sight of the familiar figure above, Yu Lianzhou knelt and said, “Your criminal servant Yu Lianzhou pays his respects to the Sage.”

Li Ji’an finally looked up, seeing Yu Lianzhou prostrate himself fully upon the floor.

“Rise,” Li Ji’an commanded.

“My appearance is frightful, I fear I might offend Your Majesty and dare not stand,” Yu Lianzhou replied.

Li Ji’an could not help but laugh softly, “Enough—if I tell you to rise, then rise.”

“At your command.” Yu Lianzhou straightened his body, though he remained kneeling.

“Why are you still kneeling?” Li Ji’an inquired.

“I trespassed against the Sage that day and have not yet been punished. I am deeply uneasy.”

Liu Renwu, standing to the side, thought, “What a sly fellow—he’ll get a proper lesson later.”

Li Ji’an knew, from subsequent events, that this man was no assassin, but the deaths of several Left Thousand Bull Guards were undeniable. As for punishment, he had yet to decide. After a moment’s thought, he said, “Stand and speak. Tell me, who are you really?”

Yu Lianzhou knew not to overplay his hand. He rose, bowed, and said, “What I am about to say may touch upon certain secrets—am I permitted to speak?”

Liu Renwu, aware of the strangeness surrounding that day, bowed and said, “Sage, perhaps I should wait outside.”

Li Ji’an, knowing well that there was more to this man than met the eye—and having heard from Yuchi Gong that he was no match for him himself—decided caution was prudent, even though the man was still shackled. Moreover, Liu Renwu was his trusted subordinate. “No need,” he replied, then turned to Gaoyuan, who quietly withdrew and closed the doors.

Within the chamber, only Li Ji’an, Liu Renwu, and Yu Lianzhou remained.