The autumn sun hung low over Xichangjing when the messenger arrived, his horse lathered and trembling. Ten days had passed since the massacre—ten days for the news to crawl across mountains and rivers, carrying word of the unthinkable: Yu Liao's thirty thousand soldiers, trapped and slaughtered. Liang Province, reduced to ash.
The capital remained blissfully ignorant of the catastrophe until that messenger thundered through its gates.
It was early autumn, the kind of day that seemed designed for leisure. The sky stretched endlessly above, clear and luminous, clouds drifting like silk scarves across azure silk. Sun Jing had departed the palace at dawn for a game of chu polo, that most aristocratic of pursuits. Several brocade tents had been erected at the field's edge, their embroidered panels rippling in the breeze—a spectacle of wealth and power.
Sun Jing's wife, Lady Yuan of Wei, had excused herself that morning. A heartache, she claimed. Everyone knew the truth festered deeper than any physical ailment.
Inside the largest tent sat Crown Princess Xiao, widow of the late Crown Prince. The facts were grotesque, almost too lurid to speak aloud: both the Emperor and Crown Prince had fallen to Sun Jing's blade during the coup. Yet Crown Princess Xiao—bound to Sun Jing by a secret affair from years past—had become his companion after her husband's death. The arrangement had stoked Lady Yuan's fury for weeks, a slow-burning rage that poisoned the palace atmosphere.
Sun Jing commanded his horse with masterful precision. His team fought like wolves, savage and coordinated, driving the ball across the field with violent grace. The crowd roared. Dust rose in golden clouds. At the height of the match, a voice cut through the chaos—sharp, urgent, unmistakable.
"Military dispatch! Urgent military dispatch!"
Sun Jing reined his mount to a halt and gestured toward the brocade tent. Xiao emerged, her smile radiant, taking the polo mallet from his hands with practiced intimacy. She mounted his horse in one fluid motion and plunged back into the game, her robes billowing like battle flags.
Sun Jing accepted the urgent report, its pheasant-tail marker denoting maximum priority. He broke the seal. His eyes devoured the contents, racing through ten lines at once.
Behind him, the crowd erupted. Xiao had scored, securing another victory. The musicians struck up a triumphant melody, strings and drums weaving celebration into the air.
Sun Jing's face remained impassive as stone.
Ever since the Zhenxi Army had appointed Li Yi as Marshal of the Rebellion, Sun Jing had dismissed it as theater—a desperate ploy by Pei Xian and the western prefectures to legitimize their resistance by elevating the Emperor's grandson. Nothing more than a convenient figurehead, he'd assumed.
He had never imagined Li Yi would take six thousand broken, aging soldiers and annihilate thirty thousand.
The music swelled. The drums pounded. Sun Jing's expression betrayed nothing—no joy, no sorrow, no fury. His face was a mask of imperial control.
"Summon the Prince of Liang," he ordered.
His attendants hesitated, confusion flickering across their features. Who was the Prince of Liang again?
The late Emperor had sired over thirty sons. Many had been exceptional—brilliant scholars, skilled warriors, charismatic leaders. Sun Jing had executed them all during the palace coup, their deaths dressed up as necessary suppressions of rebellion. Only one had survived the purge: Li Fu, Prince of Liang, a weak and sickly man who'd been absent from the fatal palace banquet that night.
When Sun Jing learned that the Zhenxi Army had raised Li Yi as their commander, he'd had Li Fu thrown into prison. The Prince had languished there for months.
A Father's Terror
Prison had not been kind to Li Fu. His pre-existing illness had ravaged him, leaving him half-dead, a ghost of aristocratic privilege. When the guards informed him that the Grand Commandant had summoned him, terror seized his bowels. He nearly soiled himself, unable to stand on his trembling legs.
The jailers had no choice but to carry him bodily to Sun Jing's presence.
The Prince of Liang gazed up at Sun Jing, shaking uncontrollably. The moment his guards released him, he collapsed to his knees.
Another victory song concluded. Xiao had triumphed again, her pile of winning tokens growing impressively tall. Sweat glistened on her lips as she urged her horse forward, then dismounted with athletic grace. She held her mallet casually, smiling at Sun Jing.
"I'm so glad I've fulfilled my mission and won this round for the Grand Commander."
Sun Jing couldn't help but smile back. Though Xiao had reached her thirties, she possessed an ageless beauty—the kind that belonged to women in their early twenties, fresh and luminous. She met his gaze and offered a coquettish glare, ignoring the trembling prince on the ground entirely. She handed Sun Jing the mallet, accepted a towel from a eunuch, and dabbed at her forehead before returning to her seat. A maid served her tea. She sipped absently, one hand rising to adjust her hair, which had loosened during the game.
Sun Jing tapped the Prince of Liang's forehead with his polo mallet, his tone dripping with mockery.
"You are a prince. Why do you perform such a formal ceremony when you see me? Hold your head up and speak."
The Prince of Liang trembled violently, caught between impossibilities. He dared not look up. He dared not keep his head down. He raised it slightly, his entire body shaking.
"My little prince... My little prince dares not... I dare not offend the Grand Commander..."
Laughter rippled through the brocade tent. The women found his terror amusing. The Prince lowered his head further, shame burning through him.
Sun Jing examined the patterns carved into his polo mallet with studied indifference.
"Tell me about your son."
The Prince of Liang blinked, confused. He swallowed hard.
"The eldest son of the young king, Li Jun, was named the King of Linzi..."
"Who wants to listen to this!" Sun Jing interrupted impatiently. "Tell me about Li Yi."
The Prince's anxiety intensified, but he had no choice but to comply, his voice quavering.
"Li Yi is the third son of the young king. He... he himself... He was an unlucky person since childhood..."
The words tumbled out in a desperate cascade. Li Yi's birth had killed his mother, Lady Liu, during childbirth. His birthday fell on the fifth day of the fifth lunar month—a date of supreme ill omen. This unlucky child had grown into a troublesome youth, constantly quarreling with his brothers. At eleven, he'd beaten the son of the Minister of Rites without provocation, earning the late Emperor's displeasure. He'd been banished to the Zhenxi Army as punishment.
And on and on.
Sun Jing listened with focused intensity, his expression unreadable. The Prince of Liang glanced repeatedly at his face, growing more agitated with each passing moment. What disaster had Li Yi caused now? The more he spoke, the more panicked he became, convinced his own life hung by a thread. His voice broke, words dissolving into incoherent sobs.
Sun Jing finally lost patience.
"After talking for so long, you, as a father, don't even know what kind of person he is."
Seeing anger flash across Sun Jing's face, the Prince of Liang shook with terror, tears streaming down his cheeks.
"My king... My king doesn't know what the commander-in-chief means... This son is really unfilial! Even I can't figure out how I could give birth to such a terrible son!"
Sun Jing's next question came sharp as a blade.
"Li Yi was born in the fourteenth year of Chengshun? He is twenty years old this year?"
The Prince felt an inexplicable dread tighten around his chest. He nodded frantically.
"Yes, yes, it's the fifth day of the fifth month of the fourteenth year of Chengshun. Truly an evil month for the birth of an evil son..."
Sun Jing's sneer cut through the air like winter wind.
"Li Yi, barely a young man, has already devised a scheme to trap and kill thirty thousand of our troops. Truly unworthy, truly unworthy! How could someone like you father such a gifted son as Li Yi!"
The words struck the Prince like lightning. Terror choked off his breath. His eyes rolled back. He collapsed to the ground in a dead faint.
Sun Jing frowned slightly. Eunuchs stepped forward, awaiting instructions.
"Take the fool away," Sun Jing said, regarding the unconscious Prince with contempt. "Guard him closely. Don't let him die."
The eunuchs half-dragged, half-carried the Prince away. Sun Jing returned to his seat, where Xiao smiled and offered him a cup of wine. He accepted but didn't drink, holding the cup thoughtfully.
"Have you ever met Li Yi?" he asked casually.
Xiao considered the question carefully.
"This man was not well-known among the royal family. I must have heard of the outstanding children of the Li family, but of this man, I only heard that he was naughty and angered the late Emperor, who demoted him to the army."
Sun Jing nodded slowly.
"I had someone check the archives of the Ministry of War. Not long after Li Yi was demoted to the Zhenxi Army, Pei Xian transferred his youngest son, Pei Yuan, from the Longwu Guard to the Zhenxi Army. Since then, Pei Yuan has been inseparable from Li Yi, always in the same team. Pei Xian, that old fox, is very arrogant. The person he asked his son to follow must not be underestimated."
Xiao smiled knowingly.
"The Grand Commander is also aware that Pei Xian has over ten sons. Some are in the army, some have abandoned the military to pursue literature, and some have become Taoist priests. The Grand Commander is incredibly meticulous. Pei Xian could never have guessed he would raise the banner of rebellion. If he couldn't have guessed, how could he have planned so early on and prioritized an unfavored grandson of the Emperor, demoted to the army?"
Sun Jing smiled, conceding the point.
"That makes sense."
Xiao continued, her voice taking on a more serious tone.
"Although Li Yi may be brave for a while, the Grand Commander will eventually destroy him with his ability. He's not a threat." She paused deliberately. "Only Cui's army will advance south. The Grand Commander should make early plans. Cui is a skilled military commander, and his son has led his army to capture several towns. He should not be underestimated. Now Cui's son is leading his troops and wandering around Xiangzhou. If Cui and Li Yi become allies, that would be a very difficult situation."
Sun Jing spoke with measured calm.
"That old man, Cui Yi, is aloof and eccentric. Although he's marching south under the guise of defending the Emperor, he won't easily collude with Li Yi. After all, he harbors resentment and doesn't trust the Li family."
The history was well known. The late Emperor, consumed by paranoia in his final years, had wronged his military officials grievously. Sun Jing, Pei Xian, and Cui Yi had once been celebrated as the "Three Heroes of the Imperial Dynasty." Sun Jing had led armies that destroyed Yiluo, earning him a kingship. But suspicion had poisoned the Emperor's mind. He'd dismantled Sun Jing's army and exiled him to the southwest, where he'd nearly died in the malarial swamps.
Pei Xian, of course, had endured decades in the brutal northwest.
As for Cui Yi—while fighting the Jie Shuo in the north, the late Emperor had suspected him of fostering rebellion. He'd repeatedly cut off Cui Yi's supplies, sent envoys to reprimand him, and just before the Emperor's birthday, issued an edict forcing Cui Yi to send his only son to the capital as a hostage.
Thus, while Cui Yi nominally raised his army to support the Emperor, his true attitude remained erratic. He did not genuinely follow Li Yi's lead.
Sun Jing considered this for a moment.
"I will write a letter myself and send it to Cui Yi." He added, "Send an envoy to urge Han Li to do the same."
Han Li commanded troops occupying Bingzhou and Jianzhou—both strategically crucial territories. After Sun Jing's uprising, Han Li's position had been deliberately ambiguous, showing little loyalty to the late Emperor. He likely harbored his own ambitions, seeking advantage in the chaos.
Xiao smiled with satisfaction.
"The Grand Commander's plan is brilliant and very comprehensive."
Sun Jing sighed, a rare admission of concern.
"Now that Liangzhou has been lost, we must send heavy troops to reinforce Hu'er Pass. We must also be wary of Wangzhou. Although Wangzhou's garrison commander, Guo Zhi, is a reliable man, he has a blunt and straightforward character. Facing a cunning man like Li Yi, he's bound to suffer. Fortunately, attacking a city is easier than defending it, and his forces far outnumber Li Yi's. Wangzhou should be safe."
Xiao's eyes gleamed with strategic insight.
"We must also remove the firewood from under the cauldron."
Sun Jing nodded in agreement. His strategy relied on fortifying cities and clearing the countryside, systematically cutting off the Zhenxi Army's food supplies. Even if the Zhenxi Army captured multiple cities in succession, they would find no provisions. The northwest was harsh, the prefectures impoverished. They had always depended on grain transports from the imperial court—the very leverage that had given the late Emperor confidence when holding Pei Xian and the other western prefectures hostage.
Sun Jing's voice dropped to a cold whisper.
"Without food and fodder, let alone fighting, the Zhenxi Army will starve to death on the Guanxi Road."
The music played on. The wine flowed. Above them, the autumn sky stretched endlessly, indifferent to the schemes of men.
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