Chapter 108: The Sentence

Pugu Dang stared fixedly at the man across from him. His hand, gripping the hilt of his blade, was slick with sweat, yet he dared not draw it. It was not merely the fear of escalating the situation beyond control, but also the fact that the man had not moved any closer, standing his ground and pleading incessantly.

No command had come from behind him. He knew then that the Crown Prince would not make a decision. Calculating the time, the military messengers he had dispatched should have already reported the matter to the palace. What would the Emperor do now?

At that moment, the thousand Imperial Feathered Forest cavalrymen he commanded were, like him, merely spread out to block the path of the Crown Prince’s carriage. They were there to prevent any suspicious movements from these Tibetans and, incidentally, to block their path to the imperial mausoleums. After all, though the road was wide, a thousand fully armored cavalrymen stretched out over several miles.

Despite this, he dared not be the least bit careless. These cavalrymen, while looking majestic and imposing, were mostly sons of good families. Many of the officers were scions of noble houses, much like himself; they had rarely seen the realities of the battlefield. They were nothing like these Tibetans, who, even without armor or weapons, possessed eyes that gleamed with the ferocity of wolves.

Except for the fat man leading them.

Xiye Duoza had been shouting for nearly an hour, his mouth parched and dry. It was one thing for these Tang officers to pretend not to hear, but the heir to that vast empire behind him was also playing deaf and dumb, not even coming forward to offer a single reprimand. He was truly at his wit's end.

The funeral of the Emperor’s eldest son was a matter announced to the whole world; they had only needed to make slight inquiries to know. Coming so rashly was simply an attempt to seize an opportunity—the best case being dragged before the Heavenly Khan to have a chance to speak. If that were impossible, surely the Crown Prince would not avoid seeing them. Who would have thought he would do exactly that?

Yet, if they did not come, they would not even have a glimmer of hope. Tibet was on the brink of collapse.

Even though the two nations were at war, contact had never been fully severed. If nothing else, those resourceful merchants always found ways to pass between the countries, transporting necessary goods to designated locations. Even forbidden items like ironware could not stop a heart set on making a fortune.

They were no different. Despite being in the heart of the enemy nation, their freedom of movement had not been restricted. In these past days, they had visited countless high-ranking officials and dignitaries, yet every single one resulted in nothing. The only person here who could make a final decision was the Heavenly Khan, and while there were those who could influence him—such as the powerful Chancellor who had held the reins of the state for twenty years—that path, even with vast bribes, had led nowhere.

Driven by desperation, they had no choice but to take the risk. They knew full well that the Crown Prince would rather hide away than concern himself with such matters.

The bodyguards of their mission were warriors from various tribes. They had brought them along for the worst-case scenario. Xiye Duoza believed that if he ordered them to charge at the Tang blades with their bare hands, they would not even blink. Should they really escalate the situation? As time passed, he found himself increasingly inclined to do so.

Of course, even if they were to kidnap the Crown Prince, it would only incur the Heavenly Khan’s wrath and bring his thunderous vengeance down upon the Tibetan people. But if they did not, were they not already facing their end?

"We have no malice, we only wish to..." He wanted to make one last effort, but before he could finish, his words were drowned out by the thundering of hooves.

Xiye Duoza’s expression shifted instantly. He did not need to press his ear to the ground to know that the approaching force far outnumbered the cavalry before him.

The moment Pugu Dang saw the banners, he let out a long breath. The one arriving was his superior, the Great General of the Right Feathered Forest, Gao Xianzhi.

Gao Xianzhi showed no sign of ease. While still twenty paces away, he signaled for a surround. Three thousand elite cavalry immediately spread out in a crane-wing formation, enveloping the original thousand as well.

"Seize them. Kill anyone who resists on the spot."

The icy command was like the whisper of death. Xiye Duoza, who understood the Han tongue, felt a chill run through his body. In the end, it had come to this.

As his men looked toward him, he withdrew his gaze from the approaching Tang cavalry, crossed his hands over his chest, and held a firm, devout expression.

"To give one's life for the Son of the Heavenly God is the glory of every Tibetan subject."

Led by him, every Tibetan bodyguard assumed the same posture, chanting under their breath, yet they did not move, allowing the Tang soldiers to bind them one by one.

"Take me to the Crown Prince." Gao Xianzhi did not even glance at the Tibetans bound on the ground. He spurred his horse through his own ranks and ordered the stunned Pugu Dang.

Was that it? Pugu Dang had not yet recovered his senses. If he had known, he could have captured them all himself; why had it been necessary to summon so many colleagues? He instinctively felt a sense of foreboding.

Soon, they reached the Crown Prince’s carriage. Seeing that the situation was under control, Cheng Yuanzhen helped Li Heng, who had been hiding inside the carriage the whole time, to emerge.

"Gao Xianzhi, Great General of the Right Feathered Forest, pays respects to the Crown Prince. As I am in armor, I cannot perform the full salute; I beg your forgiveness," Gao Xianzhi said loudly, cupping his hands from atop his horse.

"These are exceptional times. Did General Gao come under imperial decree?" Seeing the scene before him, Li Heng was somewhat dazed, and inexplicably, he felt a flicker of fear.

"Indeed. The Emperor has decreed that because the Tibetans harbored malicious intent and dared to openly obstruct the Crown Prince’s carriage, all except the head envoy are to be beheaded as a warning to the public. I am to escort the Crown Prince back to the palace."

From these murderous words, Li Heng detected his father’s displeasure, yet he nodded in relief.

"Then I shall trouble you."

The carriage set off again, though the guards had been replaced. Only then did Pugu Dang learn of his own fate—a truly unjust disaster.

"To think you are a frontier-born general! In the shadow of the Emperor, no matter what they intended to do, you should have subdued them first. If something had truly gone wrong, how many heads would you have had to lose?"

Gao Xianzhi did not hold back, poking Pugu Dang’s helmet with his riding crop. "A thousand men, held at bay by twenty-something unarmed Tibetans. You can afford to lose face, but I cannot. The Feathered Forest are the Emperor’s personal troops. If you are this timid and indecisive, how can we count on you for anything in the future?"

"This subordinate... knows his mistake," Pugu Dang said, crestfallen.

"The Emperor is in a rage. When there is time, I will speak on your behalf. Those Tibetans are turned over to you. Do you know what to do?"

"Rest assured, Great General."

Hearing this, Pugu Dang began to chafe his hands. All the bad luck today had been caused by this bunch of Tibetans. Now that they had fallen into his hands, he would naturally have to vent his frustrations properly.

Such matters were not for public display. The decree was clear: deal with them immediately to create a fait accompli and eliminate any future trouble.

He took his trusted men, each dragging one captive, to the banks of the Wei River on Xiliu Plain. They pressed their polished broadswords against the backs of the Tibetans' necks. With a single stroke, a red stain bloomed.

"Do not act! I am the Tibetan head envoy; you cannot kill me!"

When it was his turn, just as the sword was raised, the chubby Tibetan before him gave him a muffled shout.

Had he forgotten to pray before leaving the house today? After finally having a chance to vent, even this one had managed to slip away.

Pugu Dang was so furious he could feel smoke rising from his seven orifices. He struck down with his blade, sending water splashing everywhere.