Chapter Ninety: Beneath the Walls of Chang'an

The vast ramparts of the capital rose before them, seeming close at hand, yet still three li away. Yu Lang and the others led their horses on foot toward the city, while only Yang Yuhuan, constrained by her status, remained seated within the carriage.

Facing them was Yanping Gate. Though dusk was drawing near, a long line still stretched before the city entrance. The gateway was divided into two lanes, one for entering, one for leaving; at this hour, there were few departing and many arriving.

Gray-black coarse robes covered with light armor, a long spear in hand, a curved saber at the waist: such was the equipment of the ordinary city guards. They inspected each traveler with care, checking identities and ensuring that no contraband was hidden among the goods before allowing passage. Their work was meticulous.

Yu Lang had meant to queue quietly, but unexpectedly a procession of servants in fine cloth approached, carrying a splendid sedan chair. From the servants’ steps and expressions, it seemed to be an empty chair.

In the Tang dynasty, only the emperor, imperial consorts, and ministers of the third rank or above were permitted to ride in sedan chairs. Anyone daring to send such a conspicuous chair here to fetch someone must surely be of lofty standing.

The leader was exceedingly arrogant, chin slightly raised, and tapped Yu Lang lightly with his forefinger. “Are you the ones who escorted Yang Yuhuan from Yangzhou?”

Yu Lang did not answer. “And who are you?”

“Call me Lord Lu. If you have delivered her, hand her over to me. If not, the lot of you may as well end your own lives.” Though this so-called Lord Lu was about Yu Lang’s age, his manner was old and haughty, his contempt naked and unhidden.

As he finished speaking, he reached to lift the carriage curtain, but his wrist was seized by Yu Lang. “Lord Lu, I am Yu Lang, Yu Ziyou of the Moon-Washing Academy. At my teacher’s command, I have escorted Sister Yuhuan to Chang’an. My teacher specifically instructed me that Sister Yuhuan must be delivered personally before His Majesty, and no one else is to be trusted!”

Lord Lu spat. “What right have you, you crude and foolish thing, to appear before the emperor and offend the sage’s eyes and ears? Let me first see whether the person inside is alive or dead!”

Seeing his ferocity, Yu Lang had no choice but to use force. With a lift and a shove, he sent the man flying lightly three zhang away.

Lord Lu was accustomed to bullying others, and he saw no reason to fear a few commoners in plain clothes. He instantly drew the dark-iron treasured sword at his waist and slashed down at Yu Lang’s head. Such country trash could be cut down without concern; at worst, a bit of silver could be handed to the county magistrate of Chang’an.

Lord Lu’s cultivation had reached the peak of Wandering Sea, impressive for one so young, and this strike carried considerable force.

Yu Lang’s sword, Hand-Planted, flashed once at his waist and vanished. In the next instant, Lord Lu’s prized dark-iron blade shattered inch by inch.

When cultivation reaches a certain depth, even petals and leaves can become lethal; moreover, though Hand-Planted was merely a boxwood sword, it bore Yu Lang’s dao heart upon it.

To a trained eye, the truth of this strike was clear at a glance. Someone clapped in praise and restrained the enraged Lord Lu, who had been ready to exact revenge. The speaker was a plain-clothed middle-aged man in coarse linen, unremarkable in appearance, about forty years old. He had earlier blended into the crowd of servants without drawing any notice, but now he stepped forward.

Lord Lu seemed to hold this coarse-clothed middle-aged man in great awe and, once stopped by him, no longer dared to act rashly.

The man in coarse linen glanced at Yu Lang. “Sir is worthy indeed of being Senior Brother Chen Wuning’s prized disciple. So young, yet already at the peak of Void Severance. Though the Moon-Washing Academy has declined somewhat in recent years, its younger generation still contains figures who cannot be ignored. Some time ago, Protector-General Huangfu Weiming of Longyou entered the capital with captives as tribute, and what a grand spectacle that was. By comparison, he should be your senior brother, should he not? I am Cui Zhongshi, a personal attendant of the Son of Heaven. I have been ordered by His Majesty to receive Yang Yuhuan. I ask that you make things convenient.”

Hearing that this man was a junior brother of Huangfu Weiming, the Protector-General of Longyou, Lord Lu’s expression changed drastically, and he no longer dared harbor even a trace of anger. He was fortunate that Cui Zhongshi had stopped him from making a scene; if he had offended such a figure, he might have been skinned alive by military scum and still not know how he died.

When he had finished, Cui Zhongshi produced a token and held it out for Yu Lang to inspect.

Yu Lang could not tell whether the token was genuine, and even if it were, he would not hand Yang Yuhuan over to them. The imperial capital was a place of tangled currents and hidden dragons, where all manner of people might appear. Unless Emperor Xuanzong himself came to receive her, he would not yield. He did this partly for Yang Yuhuan’s safety, and partly because he feared that if she met certain old acquaintances, she might not be able to conceal her identity and would reveal a flaw.

Seeing that Yu Lang remained unmoved, Cui Zhongshi smiled faintly and with a light wave of his hand, a soft spring breeze lifted the pale blue curtain of the carriage.

The curtain opened halfway, revealing Yang Yuhuan’s smiling face. Yet beneath her wide sleeves, her two hands were tightly clasped with nervousness. Smile, smile. Hongchou had reminded herself of this again and again in her heart. It was the special trick Sister Yuhuan had taught her: whenever she faced someone or something she did not know how to deal with, she need only smile beautifully and say nothing. The more she spoke, the more likely she was to err.

Confirming that the person in the carriage was indeed Yang Yuhuan, Cui Zhongshi was shaken to the core. He had already received word that the mountain-and-forest brothers of tiger and leopard, together with the Seven-Stringed Zither Demon Jiao Rang, had been hired by someone to intercept and kill Yang Yuhuan en route. He had thought her surely dead, and that this youth was merely forcing himself to keep up appearances. Yet Yang Yuhuan had truly arrived in Chang’an unharmed. Jiao Rang was a great cultivator at the peak of Insight of Mystery, a rare opponent even in all of Chang’an. Cui Zhongshi did not believe that these few youths alone could have driven him off.

Yu Lang smiled. “Since Lord Cui has confirmed her identity, may I trouble you to report to His Majesty that Yang Yuhuan has arrived in Chang’an?”

The doubt on Cui Zhongshi’s face did not lessen. “Forgive Cui for poor eyesight. All of you young heroes are truly outstanding, but you are still quite young, and your cultivation is only at Void Severance. This journey must have been full of peril?”

Yu Lang guessed that the man was questioning their true strength, and so simply shifted all credit onto Old Guo. “With only the few of us, we naturally lacked the strength to escort such a noble person back to the capital. Our master sent an old friend, Guo Lusheng, to accompany us all the way to Chang’an.”

Upon hearing the name Guo Lusheng, the first Insight of Mystery among the Seven Lives and Seven Deaths, Cui Zhongshi’s doubts eased somewhat. With this man providing escort, the mountain-and-forest brothers and the Seven-Stringed Zither Demon truly would have had no chance. But Guo Lusheng had always been the sort who would not even give heaven’s own emissary the time of day, so why would he do the Moon-Washing Academy such a great favor? Cui Zhongshi suppressed his questions. These were not matters he should concern himself with. So long as the person had been received, all was well.

“Very well. Since that is the case, you may enter Chang’an with me for now. As for the matter of presenting yourselves before His Majesty, I shall report it to the palace first and let His Majesty decide personally.”

Cui Zhongshi no longer pressed the matter. Escorting Yang Yuhuan to Chang’an was a great merit, and the young man would surely be richly rewarded. The Moon-Washing Academy had always been deeply entrenched in court circles, and this youth, so young yet already at the peak of Void Severance, was bound for limitless future achievement. Cui Zhongshi had no desire to make an enemy of him.

Passing through Yongxing Gate, Cui Zhongshi flashed the token in his hand, and the city guards dared not search or question them. Yu Lang did not recognize the token, but the soldiers did.

As they walked slowly beneath the towering arch of Yongxing Gate, Yu Lang looked around. Chang’an truly lived up to its reputation as the realm beneath the Son of Heaven. Its wards and lanes were laid out with strict order, and the stone used in the massive outer walls of each ward had been cut with exquisite care. And this was only the outer city; the inner city, and even more the imperial city, must be a sight even more wondrous and intoxicating.

Obaba, Xie Zhiqian, and Xue Wenyang also looked about with curiosity, seizing upon the tiniest detail and debating it for a long while. Their discussions were nothing more than comparisons with Yangzhou, weighing which city was superior. The outcome was always discouraging. Yangzhou, though itself a city of great wealth, was still far inferior to Chang’an.

Chang’an was the land of the imperial house, a metropolis of a million souls, the undisputed first stronghold under heaven.

Cui Zhongshi turned back with a smile. “This is your first time in Chang’an, is it not? When I first entered this city at nineteen, I too was struck speechless by this mighty capital. To be born into such an age of splendor is our good fortune indeed!”

Yet this age of splendor required guardians.

Yu Lang touched the Hand-Planted sword at his waist, and his heart swelled with heroic pride.