Hearing this, Zhu Helin pulled a small tube from his chest.
Su Yan blinked. A telescope! So he came prepared. He murmured quietly, “They have telescopes in this era?”
Zhu Helin whispered back, “The Westerners brought them as tribute to my father. They say it can bring things from miles away right before your eyes. My father thought if the army could be equipped with them, it’d be a great advantage, but there were only two. So before leaving the capital, I quietly took one.”
Su Yan silently noted that down, he’d have to add this to the Heavenly Works Academy’s list of items to reproduce.
The slanting sun painted the forest gold. Through the glass, the image drifted slowly, until it caught a flash of light.
Zhu Helin raised his hand, and the attendants instantly fell silent. He passed the spyglass to Su Yan and nodded toward a direction.
Su Yan held it up, squinting through one eye, and sure enough, beneath a large oak by the stream stood a magnificent deer, grazing calmly. Its coat was pure white, its form elegant, its antlers like branching gold coral glimmering in the sunset.
Zhu Helin gripped Su Yan’s wrist in excitement, whispering, “That’s it, the golden-antlered white deer!”
Su Yan could hardly believe it. After a few more glances, he asked, “You truly intend to catch it? How?”
Zhu Helin said, “I’ll have a few men skilled in setting deer traps circle behind and lay out a line. The rest of us will move forward in a fan shape to drive it toward the traps.”
Su Yan nodded, adding, “No blades or arrows. If it really is an auspicious beast, it would be unlucky to spill blood, and we’re near the imperial tombs besides.”
“I know. It’s my family’s mausoleum, after all, do you think I’d act recklessly?”
Su Yan: …Right. You do have a throne to inherit.
The guides from the Shengu Directorate claimed they often worked in the forests and knew how to set traps. Zhu Helin sent them around to the rear. Once they’d finished and raised a flag from the treetops, the signal was given.
At once, the hundred guards divided into three groups, sweeping forward in a tightening arc, herding the deer toward the “pocket.”
Zhu Helin pulled Su Yan along beside him. When they were within thirty zhang, the deer grew wary, lifting its head to look about. Seeing the encirclement, the guards deliberately rustled their blades through the underbrush to frighten it forward.
The white deer startled, sprang up, and seemed ready to dash back toward the trees, but for some reason, faltered and dropped back down. It tried again and again, only to collapse to the ground, trembling and crying out in panic.
Zhu Helin felt something was wrong. As they moved closer, his sharp eyes caught sight of it, the white deer’s hind legs were bound by a thick iron chain, the other end tightly fastened around the trunk of the oak.
By then, the guards had already rushed up and pinned the struggling deer to the ground.
The last light of the setting sun fell over its body, and motes of gold shimmered in the air around it, as though someone had scattered gold dust into the wind.
But aside from the chain and that strange gold dust, Su Yan noticed something else, the palms of the guards holding the deer had turned white. His mind buzzed, and his expression changed drastically. “That white deer is a trap! Everyone, fall back, move away from it, quickly!”
Even before his shout had finished echoing, Zhu Helin reacted at the same moment, barking an order: “Pull back, now!” He grabbed Su Yan, slung him face-down over his shoulder, and turned to run.
The guards froze for half a heartbeat, then snapped out of it and scrambled to retreat.
A thunderous boom split the mountains. Then came another, and another, a chain of explosions shook the earth; dirt and stones burst skyward, trees shuddered violently, and everyone lost their footing, tumbling to the ground.
Zhu Helin clutched Su Yan tightly as they rolled several times, finally slamming into a tree trunk before coming to a stop.
Grimacing, he turned toward the source of the blast. “That was where we set the traps. What happened? Why did it explode all of a sudden?”
Su Yan clutched at his ringing ears, gasping for breath. After a moment, he managed to say, “Gunpowder.”
Zhu Helin’s eyes narrowed. “Those eunuchs from the Shengu Directorate? We weren’t even using bows for this hunt, why would they have gunpowder, ” He broke off mid-sentence, a thought striking him, and seized Su Yan’s wrist.
Su Yan met his gaze, and both saw the same realization in the other’s eyes. The guides were the problem. Their identities had been verified, so they weren’t impostors. That meant the infiltrators were from within the Directorate itself.
Even the deer had been tampered with. Its white pelt was dyed; that was why the guards’ hands were stained white. Its antlers had been brushed with gold lacquer, shedding glittering dust in the sun.
Zhu Helin muttered, “That maid who told me about the white deer… she was part of it too. What were they after, an assassination?”
Su Yan frowned. If their goal was to kill the crown prince, they’d have buried the powder beneath the deer and detonated it when we approached. That would’ve blasted everything within several zhang to ash. But from the sound, the explosions came from farther off.
Then came a duller rumbling, not sharp blasts, but a deep, rolling noise, punctuated by repeated splashes, like countless stones plunging into water. Su Yan pressed his ear to the ground to listen, while Zhu Helin snatched up the fallen spyglass and leapt into a tree.
Seconds later, he dropped back down and, without pause, hoisted Su Yan over his shoulder again, shouting, “The rock pool upstream was blasted open, the waterfall’s turned into a mudslide! Run, run!”
The guards, knocked flat by the earlier shockwave, scrambled to their feet, half-running, half-crawling as they converged toward the Crown Prince’s position.
A startled yellow crane took flight, circling high above Mount Zhong.
From the bird’s view, specks of figures darted through the forest trails toward the south, toward the crimson walls of the Xiaoling Tomb. Behind them, the torrent burst from the banks like a broken dam, sweeping away trees, boulders, and beasts as it thundered down the mountain.
Dangling upside down, Su Yan bounced violently with each stride until he nearly vomited. He pounded on Zhu Helin’s back, shouting, “Put me down! I can run on my own!”
“Shut it!” Zhu Helin barked between breaths. “With those twig arms and chicken legs of yours? Best be grateful this young master trains daily and has the strength to carry you!”
“C-Can you… outrun… a mudslide?” Su Yan’s words shook apart with every jolt.
“Outrun it or not, we run anyway!” Zhu Helin yelled over the wind. “Otherwise we won’t have the chance to find out!”
The narrow mountain path twisted treacherously beneath their feet. They stumbled and fell more than once, Zhu Helin gripping Su Yan tight each time to keep him from tumbling downhill.
He knew the torrent was flowing south; the safest direction was east or west, but both sides were sheer cliffs and dense forest. All they could do was pray that the trees ahead would slow the surge enough to stop it before it caught them.
The palace guards from the Eastern Palace managed to close the distance, forming up several paces behind the prince in a protective rear-guard.
Exhausted, battered, and bruised, they finally glimpsed the vermilion walls of the Xiaoling Tomb.
Everyone thought they were saved, but Zhu Helin’s expression changed sharply. If the flood breached the outer wall and reached the north end of the tomb, the circular mound, then the imperial burial chamber of the founding emperor and empress would be inundated.
If the royal tomb were damaged, it would mean the destruction of the dragon vein itself, a calamity of heaven and earth.
Under Great Ming law, any act of deliberate damage to the imperial mausoleum was classified as treason of the highest order, one of the “Ten Heinous Crimes” that could never be pardoned. The principal and all accomplices would be executed by lingchi, slow slicing, and their families exterminated.
If this happened, not even ten crown-prince titles could save him.
Zhu Helin flung Su Yan upward, and Su Yan barely managed to catch the top of the outer wall, scrambling up with a startled shout.
“Stay there and watch the water level!” Zhu Helin ordered. Then he turned, drew his sword, and shouted to the guards, “With me, cut down the trees! Block the flow!”
Su Yan called down anxiously, “You can’t! Those are tomb trees, it’s forbidden to cut them!”
Zhu Helin’s voice was firm. “If it’s a choice between two evils, I’ll take the lesser. If that wall collapses and the mound floods, every one of us is finished! Even if I survive, I’ll no longer be fit to be crown prince!”
“Cut them down!” he roared.
The guards knew the act was a grave offense. When the reckoning came, some might face flogging, cangue punishment, or exile to the frontier. Yet for their crown prince, they did not hesitate. Drawing their blades, they shouted as one, “Cut the trees!”
Su Yan watched them rush back up the mountain path, felling trees on either side to choke the gorge, diverting the rushing flood into smaller streams. His heart pounded with fear, for Zhu Helin’s safety, and for the sacred tomb, and he turned again and again toward the south, praying that the officials and ceremonial retinue would hear the commotion and come to their aid.
Unfortunately, the scale of Xiaoling was simply too vast. From the northernmost circular mound to the southernmost gate of the mausoleum palace stretched more than half a mountain’s length. Between them lay three imperial rivers, as well as the Sacred Way, courtyards, and numerous towers and halls.
At this moment, all the officials were gathered in the front court, awaiting the Crown Prince’s ceremonial procession. Even if they heard any commotion, the circular mound at the rear of Xiaoling was a forbidden area, none could enter without imperial command. To provide aid, they would have to circle around the outer walls from outside the tomb complex, how could they possibly make it in time for such an emergency?
Su Yan looked north again, Zhu Helin and the guards had already vanished into the forest, their figures no longer visible.
He knew that sitting on top of the outer wall, even though he could observe the flow of water, there was no way for him to signal the Crown Prince’s group. Clearly, Zhu Helin had fabricated this excuse only to keep him in a safe place.
…No! I can’t just stay here safe and sound while they’re in danger. I have to do something to help.
Thinking this, Su Yan tried sliding down from the top of the wall. From a height of more than three meters, he finally jumped down, rolled to the side as he landed, and avoided injury.
He caught his breath and sprinted in the direction Zhu Helin had gone. But before he had run a few hundred meters, he saw a group of mud-covered, disheveled figures coming back toward him.
The Crown Prince led them, his coronet fallen, robes torn, his entire body spattered with dirt and water, yet he still held his sword firmly, his face grave, radiating an unprecedented air of solemn authority. The guards followed close behind him, as though he were the axis holding them together.
When Zhu Helin saw Su Yan, he frowned and barked, “What are you doing here? Get back!”
Su Yan said, “No, I can’t just sit still.”
Zhu Helin snapped, “Can’t sit still? Is the wall too high and you got dizzy, or was the top too uneven and hurt your backside?”
Su Yan spluttered, “…I’m not that useless! I couldn’t sit still because, if His Highness the Crown Prince had come to harm, I, Su Qinghe, would’ve had to dash my head against the stone stele held by that turtle at the mausoleum gate, to atone with my death!”
His tone was fierce and righteous, so much so that Zhu Helin actually laughed.
Su Yan huffed, “So, did the mudslide stop?”
Zhu Helin replied, “We cut down quite a few trees, blocked several choke points, did everything humanly possible. The rest is up to Heaven.”
He stepped forward, grasped Su Yan’s hand, and they walked back side by side.
The guards behind them had long since grown accustomed to their closeness and pretended not to see a thing.
The group returned to the outer wall, tensely watching the northern slope. After a moment, they saw a trickle of water flowing down from the ridge, and all of them broke into a cold sweat.
The flow came closer and closer, then gradually weakened. By the time it reached them, it seeped into the soil and disappeared.
Everyone’s hearts suddenly relaxed. One of the guards, his limbs gone limp, collapsed right where he stood.
Zhu Helin turned, patted the vermilion wall of the tomb, and let out a long sigh. “The ancestors are watching over us!”
Su Yan also sighed. “A blessing amidst misfortune.”
When Zhu Helin turned again, a sharp, cutting coldness veiled his face. He gritted his teeth. “I swear I’ll get to the bottom of what happened today. Every single person involved, none of them will escape!”
Meanwhile, Su Yan was turning things over in his mind: judging by the interval between the explosions, the last blast had only hit the waterfall pool. The previous ones couldn’t have been meant to assassinate the Crown Prince, so what on earth were they blowing up?
