Chapter Eleven: By the Balustrade (Five)

Half a month had passed since the day of the flogging, and all the officers of the Copper Warriors Camp had fully recovered. With their departure for Anxi approaching, there was no time to delay the training of the Long March Warriors. General Li Kuo had issued strict orders: if the new recruits failed to meet the required standards, their trainers would be flogged. To avoid further humiliation, everyone worked hard to avoid bringing shame upon themselves, General Li, or the Shule Army.

Li Kuo reorganized the Long March Warriors into two camps—Yi Wu and Yong Wu, each with 500 men. Together with the Copper Warriors, Xiong Wu, and Zhen Wu camps, the young man now commanded over 2,500 troops. Another 2,500 men remained in Shule City; after he led them to Anxi, they would be handed over personally by Gao Xianzhi, the governor of Anxi.

After several months of training, the Yi Wu and Yong Wu camps gradually took on the appearance of regular armies, presenting a majestic formation. Desiring to leave Chang’an sooner, and seeing that the two camps had made progress, the young man submitted a request to resign to the emperor.

In his view, staying farther away from Chang’an might mean staying away from intrigues. The court situation changed rapidly, and censors could easily seize the opportunity to overthrow high-ranking officials with just a few words. The chaotic waters of Chang’an were beyond his capacity as a minor military officer.

At the beginning of the new year, Li Linfu’s illness worsened. He spoke wildly and turned pale while eating, foaming at the mouth. The emperor sent palace physicians to attend to him, but with little success. It seemed as though the spirit of the prime minister had left his body, as he kept murmuring nonsense. In the end, the physicians shook their heads, prescribed a calming remedy, and left. Despite summoning various renowned doctors and trying different prescriptions, they failed to save the old prime minister.

On the 27th day of the first lunar month, Li Linfu died in his sleep, causing widespread grief throughout his household. The emperor, who had served under Li Linfu as both ruler and minister, was deeply saddened by his death. He ordered the entire city of Chang’an to mourn for him and banned all forms of entertainment—a treatment reserved for major royal funerals. Such honor was a sign of supreme favor for Li Linfu.

Yet the affairs of the court were like a murky pool, impossible to see clearly or understand. Just a few days after Li Linfu’s body was buried, censors submitted a petition accusing him of colluding with border general Abu Sima to plot rebellion. This accusation shocked the entire court, and the emperor was furious.

There had been previous petitions accusing Li Linfu of colluding with foreign tribes, such as claims that he privately sold ironware and weapons to the Arabs, or accusations that he used others to kill and framed Li Kuo, the military envoy from Shule. However, these petitions either lacked sufficient evidence or were too sensitive, disappearing without a trace as soon as they were submitted.

This time, the petition explicitly named Li Linfu’s accomplice—Abu Si, the governor of Shuofang, a military commander in charge of the Turkic cavalry!

The emperor was most wary of court officials forming alliances with border generals, especially when it involved the current prime minister and a regional governor. Faced with such conclusive “evidence,” the emperor ordered that all of Li Linfu’s titles, rewards, and properties be seized, leaving his family in chaos—some fleeing, some exiled, in a truly pitiful situation.

Even someone as powerful as Li Linfu ended up in such a miserable fate after death, let alone those of lesser status. That’s why the young man hoped to leave Chang’an as soon as possible, away from this place full of intrigues.

But fate often did not favor his wishes. Li Kuo had submitted his resignation petition to the emperor over a dozen days ago with no response. The other nine thousand soldiers, led by various generals, had left Chang’an one after another, leaving only his troops from Shule unable to depart. The young man went to the Ministry of War to obtain the necessary documents, but Cui Qian, the deputy minister, advised him not to rush, saying the ministry needed the emperor’s approval…

Three days ago, an imperial messenger finally arrived with the emperor’s edict. The content was nothing but praise for Li Kuo’s skill in commanding troops and his loyalty, along with empty phrases urging him to fulfill his duties and not disappoint the emperor’s grace.

After thanking the messenger profusely, Li Kuo felt somewhat relieved.

With the emperor’s edict in hand, he approached Cui Qian with confidence. The Ministry of War handed him the prepared documents, apologizing repeatedly. The young man found it amusing and said nothing more.

It was well known that Li Kuo and Gao Xiuyan were at odds. General Gao had even lost his position, and though he survived, he harbored deep hatred for Li Kuo.

Therefore, his subordinates repeatedly advised him to send a letter to express his regards to the governor of Anxi. Yet Li Kuo refused. First, he wasn’t close to Gao Xianzhi, and such an act would seem insincere and offensive. Second, it could be seen as forming a faction, risking him being accused of corruption.

After all, as a regional governor, Gao Xianzhi should have the grace to forgive him, right?

The crimson candle flames flickered, illuminating the silent night.

Inside the tent, Li Kuo read The Art of War by Wei Gong and compared it with practical military strategies.

“Seventh Brother, Seventh Brother!”
Pei Hui’s somewhat childish voice came from outside the tent. Li Kuo put down the military book in his hands and stood up to greet him.
The personal guards were already familiar with the Pei family’s young master. They gently lifted the tent curtain and let Pei Hui in. Yet the young man seemed troubled, stumbling forward before Li Kuo and shouting frantically.
“Hey, be careful. What’s wrong? Why did you come to the military camp?”
Li Kuo patted Pei Hui’s back and asked gently.
“Seventh Brother, Seventh Brother… You must leave quickly. Don’t use the main roads during the march, don’t pass through the city gates. It’s best, really best, to take a detour through the desert!”
Pei Hui spoke between gasps, and by the time he finished, Li Kuo still didn’t understand what he meant.
“Why take a detour instead of using the proper roads? And travel through the desert? Even if we persevere, I’m worried the animals we ride won’t hold up.”
Li Kuo found it amusing. After all, Pei Hui was just a child, and his considerations were far from thorough.
“Don’t hesitate. Once you leave Chang’an, don’t stop. Remember, avoid entering city gates if possible. After passing Yangguan, head straight west—don’t look back!”
Pei Hui could only shake his head with a bitter smile. There were things he couldn’t say; he truly couldn’t. This was as far as he could go. He was from the Yang family—he couldn’t betray them.
“Do you think I want to kill him? It’s the Emperor! It’s the Emperor!”
Yang Zhao’s twisted, terrifying face appeared in Pei Hui’s mind again, causing the young man to shudder involuntarily.
If it was the Emperor who wanted him dead, where could he escape in this vast world?