Chapter 208: The Fall of the Prince of Wei

The Imperial Guards double-checked repeatedly, even calling others over to confirm.

"Isn't this correct? This is Vice Commander Yan's pigeon, right? White feathers, but its head is gray."

"That's the one," another replied. "Where's the message tube? The Vice Commander hasn't left the capital. It's so close—why send a flying messenger?"

The message tube was empty.

"What's going on?" The guards exchanged uneasy glances. Both were the lowest-ranked soldiers of the Imperial Guard—unremarkable in ability and lacking connections—only tasked with feeding pigeons in the Flying Messenger Yard, a place no one else wanted. Yet, they took their duties seriously.

"Maybe…" one suggested, "we should go ask at the government office?"

"Go ahead. Just say the messenger returned and reassure the Vice Commander."

The guards nodded eagerly and hurried off like the wind.

Dawn was breaking, but it was uncertain whether the Vice Commander had attended court today.

The guards rushed into Zhuque Avenue and caught sight of Bai Fanxi departing the capital in a grand procession. Bai Fanxi rode at the forefront on a sleek black horse from the Western Regions. Behind him, banners fluttered and troops looked formidable. At a glance, one might mistake it for a military expedition.

The guards quickly stepped aside, bowing respectfully.

Where was this headed? No orders had been received.

Dust stirred by the wind along the street as the guards turned into the Imperial Street and looked up toward the Zhuque Gate at its far end. The gate stood unchanged—majestic and towering—beyond it lay the Outer and Inner Courts of the Tang Dynasty, the heart of the realm.

Standing before it, one felt the immense weight of imperial authority, and oneself, like a mere ant in comparison.

Officials in various court robes, holding their tablets, strode with poise and confidence toward the Zichen Hall. Often, they conversed while climbing the steps—some inquiring about state affairs, others urging official matters. Most wore scarlet garments, like two flowing rainbows across the Ming Palace, brilliant and resplendent; or like the spine of a mighty dragon on Longshou Plain, dignified and unyielding.

Today, their voices were softer, more cautious, laced with worry.

"Have you heard? Last night, the Hedong Circuit submitted a memorial—there's been a major incident."

"The senior ministers convened through the night. No one knows the outcome yet."

"Who would have thought the Crown Prince would…"

They exchanged looks heavy with disappointment and anger.

Blocking the investigation, suppressing the rebel forces, slaughtering civilians—using the Emperor's own 'As If the Emperor Himself Were Present' decree? Such brutality and immorality! How could he remain fit to rule?

But these thoughts remained unspoken, stifled sighs exchanged instead, with glances toward the Censorate officials. "You speak, after all it's your duty to offend."

The Censors whispered quietly among themselves.

"Bai Fanxi, that old fox, has gone to Jinzhou."

"Of course, he must go with such a crisis."

"Truly, the heavens pile calamity upon calamity. I hear the Emperor's illness worsened last night—he coughed up blood the entire night."

Their murmurs were punctuated by furtive glances. "You impeach first… No, you go first… How do you manage so well?"

Amid the tense atmosphere, they entered Zichen Hall. Behind the imperial desk, Prince Wei, Li Chen, sat sideways on the dragon throne.

His eyes were red-rimmed. He seemed more shocked, sorrowful, and helpless than anyone else.

Still, he gathered himself, held up a memorial, and spoke loudly:

"Last night, the Hedong Circuit Commander Zheng Feng'an urgently reported that Crown Prince Li Zhang obstructed Prince Chu's investigation into the arm-crossbow case. Using the Emperor's 'As If the Emperor Himself Were Present' decree, he commanded the prefectural troops to suppress the rebellion in Puzhou and gatherings of the populace, resulting in three thousand casualties. Prince Chu was severely wounded and fell unconscious, remaining so to this day."

Though many officials had heard rumors, no one realized the gravity.

Instantly, uproar filled the hall. The Crown Prince's tutors were surrounded by officials, fiercely questioned and accused, nearly spat upon.

The Grand Tutor, elderly and frail, nearly lost his footing from anger. A kind official brought a stool for him to endure the scolding.

After berating the Grand Tutor, the Grand Protector, and the Lesser Tutors, the officials found the absence of the Chief Tutor Bai Fanxi unsettling and incomplete.

Discussion turned to how to proceed. Should they impeach directly, or petition the Emperor to punish the Crown Prince according to law today?

Arguments flared—some insisted this matter could not be delayed lest public trust erode; others urged concealment for the sake of the Emperor's health.

Only when Li Chen slammed his fist on the desk did the court fall silent once more.

"Gentlemen, what are your opinions?"

What opinions could there be? Scolding the Crown Prince's tutors was one matter; impeaching the Crown Prince himself, quite another. The issue was grave but uncertain—first, see who would dare to step forward. The one certainty was the Crown Prince must be punished.

The court sank into an uncomfortable silence.

Only Chancellor Fu Qian raised his tablet and stepped forward to counsel:

"I believe, Your Highness, this matter requires thorough investigation before reporting for imperial judgment."

Before Li Chen could respond, the Imperial Academy's Dean, Lu Yi, snorted coldly:

"The Chancellor has already reviewed Zheng Feng'an's memorial last night. Do you think he would dare falsify such a document? Investigation? How long would that take? The palace might change before then."

Lu Yi's worry was not unfounded. The Emperor's health was critical; if he suddenly passed, the Crown Prince would ascend immediately. Punishing him then would be a fool's errand.

Yet, besides Fu Qian, several ministers wished for a thorough inquiry before presenting it to the Emperor.

Amid the clamor, Li Chen's words steadied the hall.

"To be frank," he said coldly, "half an hour ago, Father dispatched General Bai of the Imperial Guards to Hedong to verify the facts."

Li Chen had only just learned this himself. The shock had taken time to subside.

This meant the Emperor was already aware? How much did he know? It took at least two days for Bai Fanxi to travel there and back. If that old fox uncovered anything, all would be lost.

"Furthermore," Li Chen's face darkened, voice sharp as steel, "to my knowledge, the 'As If the Emperor Himself Were Present' decree was never bestowed upon the Crown Prince. He forged the decree."

Forgery? The court erupted once more.

An Inspector immediately raised his tablet and impeached the Crown Prince. Others followed.

"Therefore," Li Chen stood, "to prevent the Crown Prince from desperate measures if exposed, I shall proceed immediately to Nanxun Hall to petition for imperial judgment. What say you, ministers?"

What was there to say? The situation was critical. The Crown Prince commanded thousands of private troops in the Eastern Palace. If a palace coup erupted, the Tang Dynasty would be doomed.

"Please remain here and do not leave Zichen Hall lest this leak," Li Chen warned.

His usually gentle face turned fierce as he tore off his jade pendant and slammed it to the ground.

The jade shattered with a sharp crack.

"Otherwise," he said grimly, "it shall be as this jade."

The ministers bowed solemnly in response.

Li Chen strode out briskly. Ignoring orders, Lu Yi followed and caught Li Chen's sleeve on the steps.

"Prince Wei! What truly happened? Did the Crown Prince do this in Jinzhou?"

"How could it be false?" Li Chen said. "I have informed my uncle and family. Today we must stabilize the court."

Li Chen's uncle commanded troops guarding Fengzhou, the closest garrison to the capital.

Lu Yi gasped.

"If the Crown Prince is guilty, the Emperor will surely depose him. Do you intend to force a palace coup?"

Only a coup would require military action.

Li Chen hesitated briefly. Lu Yi pressed on:

"Do not act rashly. Come, I shall accompany Your Highness to Nanxun Hall to see what the Emperor says."

"To Nanxun Hall we shall go," Li Chen said firmly, eyes burning like a gambler's. "But first, you must meet someone."

Waiting along the path was a young eunuch named Chen—known simply as Little Chen.

He was slight, with a hoarse voice. When he smiled, it was ingratiating; otherwise, timid and humble.

"Why see him?" Lu Yi asked.

Li Chen was calm.

"This eunuch was once punished because of Ye Jiao, sent to suffer in the Yeting Palace. I had my mother recommend him, and now he serves in the Imperial Kitchen attending the Emperor."

Lu Yi nodded, somewhat wryly:

"I see. Prince Wei is adept at winning hearts."

Li Chen did not take offense.

He turned to Little Chen and asked:

"Have you uncovered what I asked?"

"Yes," Little Chen replied, "the Imperial Physicians have increased the Emperor's medicines recently. Judging by the dregs and his meals, the Emperor's time is short."

"Is it that serious?" Lu Yi's expression softened.

"So," Li Chen said, "we must be ruthless today. Even if the Emperor refuses to punish the Crown Prince, we shall lead the ministers to seize him! If the Emperor dies, none of us will survive."

His resolve unwavering, he stepped forward.

The Imperial Guards parted to let him pass, some trailing as his escort.

Lu Yi, a plump man, staggered slightly, then instinctively followed toward Nanxun Hall.

From behind came Little Chen's quiet voice:

"One more thing…"

His voice

faltered, then continued:

"The flying messenger returned, but the message tube was empty."

Li Chen's brow furrowed.

The warning was clear: all was not as it seemed.

And the game of power had only just begun.