Chapter 6

“Sister Xie...”

Little Zheng gently tugged at her sleeve, worried that she might be outnumbered and suffer losses. She hoped Xie Chang’an would speak up and drive the others away so they could leave quickly.

Unexpectedly, Xie Chang’an did not take the usual approach.

“You can keep whatever gold and silver you’ve taken; I won’t pursue it. But anyone who has weapons taken from the palace must hand them over.”

Sun Wu and the others felt uneasy.

They had been guarding the palace gates for quite some time and had indeed seized quite a lot from the “soft targets.” Each of them carried a heavy load that jingled as they walked, their pockets bulging. They should have stopped earlier, but greed urged them to grab more. Unfortunately, they misjudged the situation and ran into a tough opponent in Xie Chang’an, turning the tables and becoming the robbed instead.

“I only want the weapons taken from the palace. Hand them over, and you can leave with your loot,” Xie Chang’an repeated firmly.

Sun Wu gritted his teeth and was the first to throw his dagger to the ground.

Then, with a clatter, seven or eight weapons fell to the ground.

Most were daggers—easy to carry and often ornate, encrusted with gems as palace treasures.

Among them was a long sword that Xie Chang’an recognized—it usually hung on the wall of the landscape pool pavilion but had been taken during the chaos and then stolen by these ruffians.

Her gaze skimmed over the weapons with little interest until it rested on one that was neither exactly a dagger nor a sword.

It was longer than a dagger but shorter than a long sword, roughly the length from her finger to her elbow, straight and slender with a slightly slanted tip.

“Sister, you have a keen eye—this is a fine sword!” Sun Wu said, wincing as he bent to pick up the weapon. “I just got it, no, I mean, when I first took it, I casually scraped it against the city wall. This sword actually cut through the stone like it was mud!”

To prove his point, he pointed to the city wall behind them.

Several distinct scratch marks, varying in depth, marred the supposedly impregnable stone walls of Chang’an. These were the results of Sun Wu’s brute strength alone; if a skilled Taoist like the old man had wielded it, the wall might have crumbled with a single stroke.

“That’s not a sword,” Xie Chang’an said.

“Ah?” Sun Wu blinked in confusion.

“This is a Tang saber—a ‘Zhang Dao.’ ‘Zhang’ means ‘barrier’; it’s designed to defend against strong enemies. One man can hold a pass that ten thousand cannot break.”

Sun Wu didn’t understand but smiled sheepishly. “A treasured blade for a hero. If you like it, sister, feel free to take it!”

Xie Chang’an didn’t bother being polite. These weapons were stolen goods, and those from whom they were taken had also pilfered from the palace. In the end, none were innocent, and she had no intention of upholding any false sense of justice here.

“I’ll take this saber. Don’t rob or harass the weak here again. This was a hasty incident; many had no time to react, which gave you the opportunity. Consider this a warning—if I catch you again—”

She paused, her eyes falling on Sun Wu’s feet.

Naturally, the group begged for mercy and promised not to cause trouble.

Xie Chang’an had no desire to waste more energy on them. Seeing these ruffians posed no real threat, she took Little Zheng’s hand and left.

Little Zheng had held her breath the entire time. Only after they had gone some distance did she relax, nearly stumbling.

“That really scared me! Sister Xie, you’re incredible!” Little Zheng exclaimed, recalling Xie Chang’an’s graceful and swift movements like a dream or a celestial being. “How did you take them down? You moved so fast, darting here and there—I couldn’t see clearly at all!”

Xie Chang’an replied casually, “I watched that old Taoist fight the assassin and picked up some moves on the fly.”

“You figured it out yourself?”

“Of course. Who else would teach me? I was close enough to see clearly, so I suppose it was a blessing in disguise.”

“With your skills, sister, if you’d wanted, you could already be a key official in the Six Bureaus and Twenty-Four Departments...”

Unconsciously, they had walked quite a distance.

Chang’an City was usually orderly, with clearly divided markets and neighborhoods, but now it was utter chaos.

As dawn broke, news spread that the emperor had fled the capital amid the palace turmoil. Panic rippled through the city like a flood.

Officials who failed to leave with the emperor, wealthy families, and many others hastily packed their belongings and fled.

Where there is flight, there is also looting. The ruffians at the palace gate were only a small part. Others, taking advantage of distracted guards, masked themselves and broke into homes or raided marketplaces, grabbing what they could and fleeing, leaving owners chasing and shouting behind.

Some were even bolder, colluding with insiders to storm the palace itself, snatching treasures to sell off and live comfortably for life.

Though the rebel army had not yet arrived, Chang’an—the city that had withstood many dynasties and stood for 138 years since the founding of the Tang—had already descended into total disorder.

The sights along the way were harrowing.

Little Zheng had assumed the area outside the palace would be safer and freer, but this scene only deepened her fear. She clung tightly to Xie Chang’an’s hand, unwilling to let go.

“Chang’an City has come to this state. When the rebels arrive, will having someone in charge make things better?”

“When the rebels come, this place will likely turn into a hellish battlefield,” Xie Chang’an said, shattering her hopes.

Little Zheng was surprised. “Why?”

“An Lushan is a fierce general, a ruthless killer unmatched in battle, but he’s not a benevolent leader who cares for the people. A cruel man who rebelled, fought hard to seize Chang’an, expecting to control the empire and capture the emperor. But the emperor fled, leaving him a chaotic city to govern. If you were An Lushan, what would you think?”

Little Zheng shook her head, unable to fathom the thoughts of a rebel leader—she was just a lowly palace servant.

Xie Chang’an sighed. “He would be furious. An Lushan’s rage at Chang’an and its people will be unrelenting.”

Seeing Little Zheng’s fear, she softened her tone. “But I might be wrong. Maybe they’ll only loot the palace at first and not care about the city outside. We still have time to find other solutions.”

If they couldn’t leave Chang’an, staying in a cellar for a few days was acceptable. After all, Little Zheng’s family lived away from the aristocratic districts and was relatively safe for now.

Perhaps due to the pearl she swallowed six months ago, Ah Xia had grown more perceptive. Knowing the urgency, the white cat stayed quietly on Xie Chang’an’s shoulder during the encounter with the ruffians and the journey back, behaving calmly.

To avoid the chaos and return home quickly, they had to weave through the labyrinthine streets. Little Zheng, unfamiliar with the outside world after many years in the palace, was thrilled to see a familiar street scene at last.

“There it is! My family’s gate is still the same!”

The Zheng family was poor. After their parents died, Little Zheng’s two brothers guarded the home. Even marriage required the younger sister’s stipend, so they had no money to repair the gate.

Upon hearing of her return, her brothers rushed out, surprised and joyful, bombarding her with questions.

When they heard the emperor had truly fled, the Zheng siblings exchanged uneasy glances, fear mingling with shock.

Their fear stemmed from the palpable chaos outside. Having lived among the common folk, they instinctively understood the danger this turmoil would bring.

“Lu Niang, our home is small. Your sister-in-law just gave birth to your nephew. I’m afraid there’s no room for you all...”

The surprise and joy of reunion faded, leaving Zheng the eldest brother looking troubled.

Little Zheng’s happiness was doused with cold water.

“Big brother, we only need a room to stay, nothing more.”

“Well...” Zheng the eldest looked to his brother. “My wife hasn’t moved in yet. There’s an empty room...”

Zheng the second brother immediately protested, “Big brother, my room is full of clutter and hasn’t been tidied. You have a spare room—why are you eyeing mine?”

Little Zheng’s heart sank, feeling hopeless.

Just as Zheng the eldest tried to argue further, seeing her face fall, he explained, “Little sister, don’t be upset. My room hasn’t been cleaned for days and is next to the kitchen. I’m afraid it won’t suit you.”

Little Zheng was disheartened and reluctant to stay, but Xie Chang’an stepped forward.

“Thank you, brothers. Let us stay for a few days. Once the situation in Chang’an stabilizes, we will find another way. We will pay you well for these days.”

Zheng the eldest was more reasonable. “You say that, your sister is home. How can we ask for rent? Come in!”

He introduced them to his wife and children and urged her to prepare a meal quickly. Xie Chang’an, keeping her word, placed some silver on the table.

She had saved much over the years in the palace, having no extra expenses or elders to support. Though financially secure for now, she knew better than to flaunt her wealth in this unstable place.

The confrontation at the gate had shattered the joy of reunion almost completely.

The Zheng siblings and Little Zheng sat across from each other, eyes locked in dull silence.

Little Zheng was exhausted and found an excuse to retreat with Xie Chang’an into the small room prepared for them. They had to clean it by hand, a task that took some effort. By the time the two, along with the cat, sat down to whisper, night had already fallen.

“Sister Xie, I’m sorry. I never expected home to be like this...”

“Don’t say that. It’s still quiet here. The city is in chaos; renting a place is difficult, let alone staying at an inn,” Xie Chang’an said lightly, placing a bowl of millet porridge before her and giving some to Ah Xia, who nimbly jumped on the table and ate without complaint.

Though they had paid rent and for food, the meal Zheng the eldest brought was meager—only two bowls of rice and a solitary plate of boiled cabbage, with no meat at all.

“When the rebels take the city, looting will be rampant. The court may retake Chang’an, but that’s a matter for the nobles. Common folk will struggle just to survive. This area is poor, so immediate danger is unlikely, but staying long isn’t wise. You should think carefully about your future plans,” Xie Chang’an said.

Little Zheng was anxious and uncertain of what to do.

“What about you, sister? What’s your plan?”

“I may have to leave Chang’an,” Xie Chang’an replied.

Little Zheng gasped. “Where to?”

“I don’t know yet. Maybe wander from place to place, maybe settle somewhere. I’ll take it one step at a time.”

What mattered most was that after witnessing the old Taoist’s duel with the assassin and being harassed at the city gate, Xie Chang’an realized how crucial martial strength was in a chaotic world. She resolved to find a place to train properly. Even if she couldn’t master immortality, she wanted to hone her skills to someday seek out the emperor again.

But she didn’t intend to share these grand ambitions with Little Zheng. Xie Chang’an was capable and alert enough to protect herself, but she couldn’t guarantee Little Zheng’s safety. Thus, she wanted to settle her first before leaving. Though the Zheng brothers were somewhat self-interested, it was safer than wandering outside or staying in the palace.

“When the court retakes Chang’an, the palace will be short-handed. If you don’t want to stay home, you can return. With your diligence, there will be a place for you in the Six Bureaus and Twenty-Four Departments.”

Little Zheng bit her lip. “Sister, will you not return to the palace? It’s more comfortable there.”

Xie Chang’an was silent for a moment. “I used to think the palace was peaceful. People like me worked from dawn till dusk and didn’t think much; life just passed by. But after Li Li left, I lie awake at night, turning over and over, thinking about her unjust death.”

So many lives weighed on her heart. Having accidentally gained the pearl’s power, Xie Chang’an felt increasingly burdened.

Others lacked her fortune and wandered aimlessly like fish on a chopping block. The assassin fought desperately, but what about her? Was she to remain trapped in the deep palace, gazing at the small patch of sky above, forever lamenting lost friends or living timidly, unable to protect those she cared about?

“Sister Xie, you always make bold choices. I know I can’t stop you, but I don’t want to lose you. Please don’t leave so soon, okay?”

The Zheng family was unreliable; Little Zheng grew more dependent on her.

“I won’t leave so soon. At least I’ll wait a few days to see how things go. If the city becomes too dangerous, I’ll take you out and settle you elsewhere. Now, get some sleep.”

After eating, there was nothing left to do outside. The Zheng family had no oil lamps, so Little Zheng couldn’t even sew. She lay in bed, chatting with Xie Chang’an.

“I never imagined home could become like this. When our parents were alive, things were fine. My brothers were obedient. When I heard from Officer Zhang in the palace about her bad family, I secretly felt lucky. Now it seems we’re all alike—sharing the same misfortune.”

“Think positively,” Xie Chang’an smiled. “At least you still have family to turn to and a place to stay. If you were like me, you wouldn’t even know where to go after leaving.”

Her tone was calm, as if recounting a neighbor’s tale.

Little Zheng hugged her arm and shook it. “Sister, I’m your family too. This is your home.”

“All right, you’ve been scared all day and must be tired. Get some rest.”

Once Little Zheng fell asleep, Xie Chang’an sat cross-legged and closed her eyes to meditate.

Her cultivation was unmethodical, without a teacher—just blind experimentation after absorbing the pearl’s power. At first, no matter the posture or breathing, she felt no effect and nearly suffered a backlash from the pearl’s force. Gradually, she learned to meditate facing the night sky, smoothing her meridians and gathering her breath.

Now, when she emptied her mind and blocked out distractions, she faintly sensed her spiritual power responding to the stars, the sun, and the moon above—a subtle call.

Xie Chang’an had read many books in the archives. The current dynasty revered Daoist teachings, and she had memorized much. She intuitively felt this was the legendary union of heaven and man, a rare opportunity for those who cultivate the Way, but lacking guidance, she was still mostly confused—knowing it worked but not why.

Thankfully, the physical changes were gradual but real.

Not only had she defeated the ruffians outside the palace today, but now, even the whispers and breaths of the Zheng couple in the next room were clear to her.

The Zheng family was poor, and with the current chaos and a newly arrived sister from the palace, their nerves were frayed, leading to some foolish talk.

But Xie Chang’an, accustomed to palace intrigues, let such words pass like a breeze, indifferent. This small room was under her control. She had no worries about early duties tomorrow. The world was vast and silent—this humble chamber, a rare moment of peace.

Time passed swiftly, and several days slipped by unnoticed.

By day, Xie Chang’an helped with chores; when idle, she retreated to meditate quietly.

Outside, chaos worsened. Fires broke out in homes, looting increased. The officials and guards who failed to flee with the emperor finally rallied in scattered groups to maintain some order, perhaps hoping to make a good impression before the rebels arrived and keep their positions.

The townspeople breathed a sigh of relief, believing the turmoil was subsiding, unaware that they were about to face the most earth-shattering upheaval in Chang’an’s 138-year history, and the most brutal massacre.

On the 22nd day of the sixth month, An Lushan finally came!