Chapter 109: Courting Disaster

"Damn it all to hell!"

Yang Guozhong cast a resentful glance at his cup before downing the liquid in one gulp. He had been lingering in the capital for over half a month. Using the excuse of bidding the Emperor farewell, he had entered the palace multiple times, "weeping" before the Son of Heaven, "weeping" before the Lady, and "weeping" in solitude when no one was watching. Thus, everyone knew of his profound loyalty; it was not that he was unwilling to leave, but that he could not bear to part.

There was truth to this sentiment. While the capital was indeed prosperous, the saying went that "Yangzhou is first, Yizhou is second." Compared to those two, the Guanzhong region still paled in comparison. Since the Shu region was neither a remote nor perilous wasteland, he could hardly claim to be afraid of hardship. As for fearing war, that was an accusation he could easily refute; as a regional commander, no matter how dangerous the situation, he was unlikely to lose his life on the front lines, as there would always be a way to retreat.

Furthermore, with troops and horses ready to move, provisions must come first. For Jiannan, Guanzhong served as the source of reinforcements. Following last year's crushing defeat, which had exhausted the region's elite forces, a period of reorganization was necessary. Thus, he had stayed behind with a clear conscience, spending his time "weeping" in the palace and occasionally shaking down various government offices for favors. As for his true thoughts, only Heaven knew.

Recently, he had finally run out of excuses to delay, so he made a show of preparing to depart. Since he was leaving, farewell banquets were inevitable, arranged every few days—after all, he had many friends. Yet, who could have foreseen that the eldest imperial son, Prince Qing Li Cong—who had seemed perfectly healthy and was even playing polo just last month—would suddenly pass away? Had it been an ordinary prince, his passing would have been of little consequence, as the Emperor had no shortage of heirs. But this was his firstborn son, and that made all the difference.

Posthumously honored as Crown Prince, with officials offering sacrifices, the mourning was elaborate. Although the court did not suspend its functions, everyone knew that music had been banned within the palace. The Emperor’s attitude was the law; any fool who crossed that line now would be inviting impeachment from the censors. Thus, as Censor-in-Chief and nominal head of the remonstrance officials, Yang Guozhong had to lead by example. The farewell banquets naturally became bland, water-thin affairs. It was bad enough that there were no female entertainers, but even the volume of conversation had to be kept low to avoid causing trouble.

There was no joy in it at all. If he hadn't already promised to host Gao Lishi, he would have canceled the banquet altogether and rescheduled for a more appropriate time. Gao Lishi had kept his word, arriving quite early and sitting for a while, which was enough to save face. However, his words were laden with hidden meanings that Yang Guozhong’s blunt, crude mind could not fathom. To make matters worse, Xianyu Xiang, his trusted strategist, was off entertaining some important guest, leaving Yang completely disheartened. He wondered if he should just call it a night, go to the back quarters to hold his new concubine, or head to the ward to seek amusement with one of the newly arrived courtesans.

Before he could decide, the familiar figure of Xianyu Xiang appeared in his field of vision.

"Zhongtong, the banquet is almost over. Where have you been?"

Xianyu Xiang bowed with a smile. "My apologies, Censor. I lost track of time. Has Lord Gao left?"

"He left half an hour ago. That old eunuch, relying on the Emperor's favor, wouldn't even give me a decent smile. He kept hinting that I should leave the capital immediately. Why even talk about him? Come, have a drink with me."

Xianyu Xiang took a cup, filled it for Yang, and then poured one for himself. "To be favored by the Emperor is the greatest advantage one can have. Even if you don't wish to be on good terms with such a man, there is no need to offend him. Censor, don't forget the fate of Li Taibai."

"A mere glib-tongued poet—can he be compared to me? But you are right, Zhongtong. It is better to offend a gentleman than to antagonize a petty man. I will yield to him in the future."

Yang Guozhong spoke with confidence, but Xianyu Xiang knew he wasn't merely boasting. With the Lady as his greatest support in the palace, there was truly no need to fear a powerful eunuch like Gao Lishi.

"His words must be the Emperor's intent. I fear I truly must depart this time."

"Who can say otherwise? Just thinking about that old dog Li Gelu getting his way makes my blood boil. Tell me, could that plan from last time still work?"

Xianyu Xiang sat beside him and lowered his voice. "It depends on the An Hu side. If we can capture a few of the Tongluo tribal leaders, we can make the charges stick. But to truly shake his position, that won't be enough."

Yang Guozhong understood that this was not something to be achieved overnight. He sipped his wine bitterly. "I truly hope his illness keeps him bedridden forever—that he just drops dead. That would be exactly what Heaven intends."

Xianyu Xiang smiled faintly at his words. "This time, I fear it won't be that easy."

"What do you mean?"

"I was just discussing this with a guest. He has a relative in the Imperial Medical Bureau who heard some inside information. I fear he is quite ill this time. After all, he is a man of seventy; how could he possibly be unaffected? The medicine bestowed by the palace is not for common fatigue, but for a serious ailment. I would say it's seventy or eighty percent certain."

Yang Guozhong, hearing this clearly, stood up and paced, rubbing his hands in excitement. "Is that so? If it’s true, then all my hard work was worth it."

Xianyu Xiang shook his head. "Don't be so hasty, Censor. There is more good news."

Yang Guozhong immediately stopped and leaned in to listen.

"Someone else came to see you today. I felt the matter was of great importance, so I took the liberty of guiding him elsewhere. Do you know who it is?" Xianyu Xiang’s mysterious tone piqued his curiosity.

"Stop teasing me. Speak."

"It's nothing out of the ordinary—he is a Tibetan." When Xianyu Xiang revealed the answer, Yang Guozhong was startled.

"Are you courting death? Provoking the Tibetans? Just today, by the banks of the Wei River, the Emperor ordered the execution of over twenty Tibetan envoys. Now, every Tibetan in the city is hiding for fear of being caught, scurrying like rats in the street. If they dared to come to my door, we should have just driven them away! Why did you go to see him?"

Yang Guozhong’s shock was justified. What happened today was beyond comprehension. The rule that "war between two nations does not involve killing the envoys" was standard practice, yet today that precedent was broken. Except for the chief envoy who escaped with his life, the rest—including those at the relay station—were slaughtered until the Wei River turned red. The Emperor had shown his resolve; there would be no turning back between the two nations. What would be the consequence of associating with a person from an enemy state? It went without saying.

"I am well aware of that, which is why I took him elsewhere to avoid bringing trouble to you," Xianyu Xiang said nonchalantly. "This man is just a small player, but what he said actually made some sense."

"A Tibetan? What sense could he possibly make?"

"He asked me: in the current situation, if the Tibetan Empire is destroyed by the Great Tang, what benefit is that to you, Censor?"

Yang Guozhong froze, his expression slowly turning solemn.