The burial of Huyang Wang was conducted with utmost pomp, nearly an entire street filled with tents of the Xing army. Now all the people of Huyang knew their Huyang Wang had “given” Huyang Prefecture to his sworn younger brother.
Xing Muzheng left behind part of his forces, then rode hard straight for Yongan. On the march, Qian Jiaoniang had her monthly pains at Pingchuan County and was suffering. Xing Muzheng said to her, “Better you stay here and rest. Once I’ve taken Yongan, I’ll return to fetch you.”
“I want to go with you,” Qian Jiaoniang shook her head.
Xing Muzheng sighed, bent down to kiss her. “Be good. Emperor Yongtai’s fate is already finished, Yongan is already mine for the taking. I only don’t wish you to witness the bloodshed.” A change of dynasty—within the Forbidden Palace there was bound to be slaughter.
Qian Jiaoniang pressed her lips together. After a moment she said, “Then be careful, and make Chou’er be careful too.”
“Rest assured. Once I’ve settled everything, I’ll come in grand ceremony to escort you into the palace. Just right, we can hold the wedding again, and bring you formally into the palace with the rites of marrying an empress.”
“You’re still hung up on that,” Qian Jiaoniang was utterly helpless. “The rites for marrying an empress are even more troublesome. I’m like glass, I can’t take that kind of torment!”
Xing Muzheng, seeing that even becoming empress didn’t make her change her form of address, pinched her pretty nose in mock exasperation.
A few days later, Qian Jiaoniang watched Xing Muzheng, his son, and the great army depart in grand force.
Five days on, Xing Muzheng led the army to the gates of Yongan. The battle dragged on for over ten days. The Imperial Guards fought to the death, but in the end they could not withstand Xing Muzheng’s battle-hardened troops. Yongan fell. Xing Muzheng led his army straight to the palace gates, all the while instructing his men to treat the Yongan people well.
The crack troops pressed up to the palace gates. Hang Zhi and Ma Dongchang, leading the officials in their court robes, stood before the gate. Xing Muzheng sat proudly on horseback, locking eyes with Hang Zhi. Hang Zhi bowed with the other officials in greeting. Xing Muzheng, in full majesty, led his army into the Forbidden City. The palace was in utter chaos, palace servants and guards scattering everywhere, though no one even knew what they were running from.
“Where is the emperor?” Xing Muzheng asked.
Expressionless, Hang Zhi replied, “His whereabouts are unknown.”
Xing Muzheng’s face was likewise impassive. With a wave of his hand: “Search.”
Zhen Hao and Xu Yizhao turned the palace upside down. They found the consorts, children, the Empress Dowager, and the Grand Empress Dowager—but not Emperor Yongtai. Under the imperial bed in the audience hall, Zhen Hao discovered a hidden passage, and guessed that Emperor Yongtai had escaped through it.
Xing Muzheng ordered the city gates of Yongan sealed, houses searched one by one. He gathered the emperor’s harem and those officials of the former court who refused to surrender, outside the Hall of Enlightenment—where blood flowed in rivers. Yet he did not kill the womenfolk, only had them locked up for the time being, to let Qian Jiaoniang decide once she arrived.
Among them was the former Princess Huairou, who had once married Xing Pingchun in a ritual ceremony. She wept and cursed him as a traitor, vowing she would rather die than be his wife. Only then did Xing Muzheng recall the matter. No one had taken it seriously, but they had indeed bowed to heaven and earth. Xing Muzheng rubbed his temples, “When your mother arrives, tell her to dissolve that marriage.”
“Yes…” Xing Pingchun, seeing the princess, was reminded of another princess. “Father, I need to go out for a bit.”
“Where to?”
Sidling close, Xing Pingchun whispered, “Princess Jianan…”
Without change of face, Xing Muzheng gave a slight nod. Xing Pingchun slipped away immediately.
On the road he ran into Hang Zhi. At once he dismounted and gave a deep bow, “Uncle.”
Hang Zhi returned the salute. “Young Marquis.”
Xing Pingchun asked, “How is Aunt Qingya? How is Lian Jie’er?”
“All well, thanks. My wife is greatly worried for the Young Marquis’s safety, lately she eats and drinks little. If you have time, do come visit our household. As for Lian Jie’er, she’s fine, only growing sturdier by the day.”
“I understand. I’ll go tomorrow!” Xing Pingchun smiled, bowing again.
“Young Marquis, why such ceremony?” Hang Zhi raised a brow.
Xing Pingchun grinned, “Earlier, when Aunt Qingya asked you to lend a hand, you truly did it. I am grateful, and thus this bow.”
What he had asked Qingya to convey was: if the city fell, may Hang Zhi persuade the officials to open the palace gates.
Hang Zhi said coolly, “It was the tide of events. I merely went with the current.”
“The tyrant on the throne—Uncle did it for the sake of the common people.”
Hang Zhi only smiled faintly. Xing Pingchun gave another bow and left.
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