Chapter 8: The Throne’s Dramatic Twist
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The towering and majestic gates of Chang’an City were shut tightly without the slightest gap. Crafted from thick solid wood, their surfaces were studded with dense copper nails. The seams between the doors were sealed with specially made materials, leaving no flaws. The soldiers guarding the city stood at the ready in full formation. Logs and stones were continuously hauled up to the battlements, along with barrels filled with boiling oil.
The heavy logs, each as thick as a human waist, were laboriously pushed by the soldiers, their rough wooden wheels carving deep ruts into the yellow earth road. The barrels of golden liquid emitted a pungent stench as they were carefully placed by the battlement embrasures. The golden liquid within swayed slightly, giving off a foul odor.
Outside the city, a dense mass of fully armored soldiers filled the horizon. Many inexperienced recruits on the walls turned pale at the sight. They swallowed nervously, their throats visibly moving, and their legs trembled involuntarily. Their young, tender faces were marked by fear, their bodies swaying slightly. Observing the calm expressions of their battle-hardened seniors helped ease their anxiety somewhat.
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Outside the city was the great army of Crown Prince Li Chengqian. Cavalry formed the rear, each horse tall and powerful, nervously pawing at the ground. Mounted soldiers wore helmets with face guards, their eyes cold and stern, reins pulled tightly, ready to charge at a moment’s command. Archers stood in the middle ranks, clad in light leather armor, quivers full of arrows on their backs, longbows poised to release.
Six full rows of shield bearers stood tightly packed, their shields resembling giant tortoise shells adorned with fierce beast patterns. They crouched slightly behind their shields, eyes alertly peering through the gaps at Chang’an City. Six rows of spear soldiers held their long spears upright, each spear as tall as two men, red tassels fluttering in the wind. Six rows of halberd men brandished crescent-shaped blades gleaming sharply in the sunlight.
A formation carried unfamiliar weapons resembling fire pokers, all pointed directly at the city walls. The total force likely exceeded one hundred thousand troops! This suddenly appearing massive army left the city’s defenders with little will to resist.
Hundreds of large banners emblazoned with the character “Li” fluttered in the wind, the flags roaring sharply. Each banner was enormous, crafted from the finest silk, the “Li” embroidered with vigorous strokes that symbolized the dignity of the Li Tang royal family.
Qin Ruzhao sat astride a tall black warhorse, both clad in heavy armor. The horse’s muscles bulged beneath its black hide, its hooves wrapped in thick iron plates, each step pounding heavily. The horse’s armor was made of refined iron scales, tightly interlocked to protect vital areas, exquisitely engraved with flowing patterns, resembling a work of art. Qin wore a helmet adorned with a black plume that fluttered in the wind, holding a long spear.
“Soldiers on the city walls, listen well! We are the army of His Royal Highness the Crown Prince. The emperor has passed away, and the Crown Prince is the rightful heir of the great Tang dynasty!” Qin Ruzhao’s voice echoed beneath the city towers, filled with authority and confidence, each word firm and resolute.
“Do you intend to block your emperor? We are all soldiers of Tang—open the gates! The late emperor would never trouble you!” His gaze was sharp as lightning, sweeping across the guards on the walls as if piercing their hearts.
“We give you one last ultimatum—three drum beats!” He raised his spear toward the sky. “Three beats of the drum! Any who remain obstinate will be treated as traitors and executed without mercy!”
Having spoken, Qin turned his horse away, raising a cloud of dust as his hooves retreated.
“Beat the drums!”
At the command, the sound of drums thundered, each booming beat seemingly matching the heartbeats of the soldiers on the walls. The heavy drumbeats pressed down on everyone, almost suffocating. Five hundred war drums sounded in unison, like rolling thunder sweeping in from the horizon. The air thickened with tension.
Even the ministers imprisoned inside the Taiji Hall could hear the muffled drumbeats penetrating the palace walls, reaching every ear. All the generals who heard the drums lifted their heads in unison, their eyes gleaming with excitement and curiosity.
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Their expressions brightened, as if they could smell the scent of war.
“Sounds like cowhide drums?” Li Ji spoke, frowning slightly as he listened attentively to the deafening drums, trying to discern their material from the sound.
“Indeed. My goodness, how many cowhide drums must that be? How many cows did it take? I, Old Cheng, have never slaughtered so many cows!” Cheng Yaojin exclaimed, eyes wide in surprise, his exaggerated expression drawing laughter from those around him.
Li Jing, who had been silent until now, also spoke up.
“These are cowhide war drums, no fewer than three hundred. Only the strong of arm can strike them.”
Li Jing’s words caused shock among the assembled generals. They exchanged incredulous glances. Since when had Tang become so wealthy? And so many strong men, yet instead of fighting upfront, they were pounding drums behind the lines? Could those charging ahead be even stronger than these drummers?
“Well, we’ll see for ourselves soon enough,” Cheng Yaojin chuckled, trying to ease the tense, curious atmosphere.
Chu Suiliang glanced at the Thousand Bull Guards outside.
“General Cheng, how do you plan to get out?”
He frowned with concern, eyeing the fierce Thousand Bull Guards, uncertain how Cheng Yaojin intended to proceed.
Cheng Yaojin smiled mysteriously.
“Old Cheng has his own clever plan.”
Without another word, he strode toward the palace exit, his steps seeming casual but actually winding and irregular—not like a normal person. Mainly, he did not want the others inside to know his intentions.
“General Cheng, please do not put me in a difficult position,” the leader of the Thousand Bull Guards said, gripping his long blade, his expression hesitant.
“Don’t worry, I won’t trouble you. I’ll show you something outside,” Cheng replied without looking back.
He led the guard to a hidden corner outside the palace, looked around cautiously, and after confirming no one was watching, he furtively pulled from his pants a cloth-wrapped object. The action was comical, but his face remained serious. Carefully, he unwrapped layer after layer, as if unveiling a precious treasure.
Curious, the Thousand Bull Guard leader glanced at the object before kneeling on one knee.
“General Cheng.”
His voice was filled with reverence.
Cheng carefully stowed away the military token.
“Rise. Inform all the Thousand Bull Guards inside Chang’an to stand down and do not oppose His Royal Highness the Crown Prince!”
“Yes! I obey your command!” The leader hurried away.
The palace guards quickly withdrew, their orderly footsteps fading into the corridors. Those remaining inside the hall were bewildered by the sudden retreat. Before they could react, Cheng Yaojin swaggered back inside.
“Well? I told you, Old Cheng has his tricks. The leader was once my soldier. He owes me some favor!”
Proudly, Cheng lifted his head, a broad smile spreading across his face. Though often unreliable, now he had truly cleared the way, earning himself a debt of gratitude from those present. Praise followed immediately.
“General Cheng really has connections!”
“A pillar of the army!”
“A war hero!”
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Amid the flattery, Cheng beamed even brighter, nearly grinning from ear to ear. Only Li Jing cast him a curious glance, his eyes flickering with doubt before shifting toward the stoic newcomer behind Fang Xuanling.
Fang Xuanling noticed Li Jing’s gaze and interrupted, speaking: “Gentlemen, the Crown Prince’s army is outside the city. Let us all go see how things stand.”
“Hopefully, the Crown Prince can enter Chang’an peacefully without bloodshed.”
His eyes showed both worry and hope.
“Minister Fang speaks wisely!”
“Let’s go together!”
“How could that old traitor Changsun betray the emperor!”
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The ministers marched out vigorously, their footsteps echoing through the palace.
Wei Shiji closely followed Emperor Li Shimin, his eyes scanning vigilantly, ready for any sudden events. Li Jing brought up the rear, deep in thought, his brow furrowed, pondering the deeper meaning behind this upheaval.
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“The second drumbeat!”
The drumbeats grew more urgent, like death’s summons pulsing through the air. Each thud struck hearts with increasing tension both within and outside the city walls.
Changsun Wuji arrived at the battlements with the aristocratic officials, faces grave and hurried. Looking at the vast, dark mass of soldiers, none showed calmness. Their eyes brimmed with fear and despair.
“Lord Changsun, what shall we do?” Minister Cui Gan asked anxiously, his voice trembling, sweat beading his forehead.
Changsun bit his lip, frowning deeply, panic flickering in his eyes.
“Where did so many troops come from?” he raged in his mind.
There were many armies stationed near Chang’an; under normal circumstances, he could have ordered Li Shimin to deploy them. But these were not normal times—the emperor had died, and the military tokens were missing! Without Li Shimin’s orders, troop mobilization depended on those tokens, which he did not possess. The entire palace had been searched to no avail.
Seeing the dense army below, Changsun realized the emperor must have handed all tokens to the Crown Prince. Cold sweat poured down his face, soaking his collar.
The city defenders had no morale, their eyes filled with fear, bodies trembling, weapons barely held steady. The noble houses had private armies but no time to mobilize them now. Fear was contagious—even battle-hardened veterans no longer felt at ease.
They had hoped for reinforcements, but it was only those on the walls. How could they fight?
“Where is the Thousand Bull Guard company I ordered?” Changsun asked his household troops, eyes burning with anger and urgency.
“My lord,” a retainer replied, forced smile on his lips.
“They said they came under your orders, but somehow were denied entry and turned away.”
Changsun nearly fainted, staggering with disbelief.
Before he could decide, a voice shouted from the city gate:
“I am the current Prince of Wei, Li Tai! I order you to open the gates and let the imperial army enter!”
The voice was clear and loud, startling amid the tense atmosphere.
Changsun closed his eyes helplessly, knowing it was over—he had lost utterly.
Li Tai watched as the gates slowly opened, the majestic army arrayed before him. His heart raced, fear flickering in his eyes, dreading his brother might send him to his end.
Only now did he realize none of the noble houses could be trusted. He had likely been manipulated before; luckily, his elder brother was not ambitious, and he had not listened to their schemes. Otherwise, he would have been a pawn in their hands.
Relieved, Li Tai exhaled deeply and respectfully stood at the city gate.
“Your humble brother wishes the elder brother a successful accession! Long live His Majesty!”
Then he knelt, bowing his head solemnly and reverently.
Li Tai’s lead caused the city’s defenders to lower their weapons and kneel in unison.
“Long live the Emperor!”
One by one, people inside Chang’an knelt, the scene grand and unstoppable, like a chain of falling dominoes.
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The entire city of Chang’an bowed before the new emperor.