Chapter 65: Looking Down on Others Like a Dog

From the tone of Li Chunfeng’s words, it seemed he had no wish to assist the future emperor, Emperor Gaozong of Tang. This revelation left Lu Xin deeply shocked.

Imperial power in the feudal order belonged to a single, absolute ruler. The struggle for succession had always been fraught with peril. One need look no further than Cao Zhi’s famous “Poem in Seven Steps” from the Three Kingdoms era to catch a glimpse of this. Even without reaching so far back, the Xuanwu Gate Incident of the ninth year of the Wude era remained vivid in memory: Emperor Taizong had slaughtered his own brothers. If such cruelty could be shown to one’s closest kin, what hope could there be for ministers and strategists lower down the ranks? If history were immutable, and Li Zhi ascended the throne, all those who sided with the losing faction in the succession struggle would meet disaster. This was not merely a matter of dismissal or imprisonment—one false move, and the punishment could extend to one’s entire clan.

Imperial power was the coldest, most merciless, and most perilous thing in the world.

“Master, if the outcome is already fated, do you truly intend to defy the will of Heaven?”

Li Chunfeng laughed. “No, not so much defying Heaven. But at this moment, the Tang realm is beset by troubles within and without. We cannot afford to wait for him to come of age. The Crown Prince, Li Chengqian, is already eleven years old; with a single word from Taizong, he could undergo the coming-of-age ceremony and set up his own court in the Eastern Palace. The second son by the principal wife, Li Tai, is ten, reportedly gifted and intelligent, greatly favored by Taizong, and the most beloved of all the princes. The third son, Li Ke, is the same age as the crown prince, brave and decisive—the one who most resembles Taizong himself. Alas, he is of secondary birth, the son of Lady Yang, daughter of the Sui Emperor Yang, and is unlikely to inherit the throne.”

Pausing here, Li Chunfeng’s gaze drifted once more toward the Vermilion Bird Gate. The vast imperial city stood shrouded in the shadows of sunset, its blood-red walls exuding an unspeakable ferocity.

“Fate is fickle, the world inconstant. As long as the realm can be kept at peace, what matter if I, Li Chunfeng, must go against the heavens?”

“Master!” Lu Xin was suddenly stunned. Though Li Chunfeng’s voice was soft, the force behind it was more imposing than all of Chang’an. It was a conviction of unshakeable resolve—a spirit unafraid of life or death. The tension Lu Xin had felt a moment ago was instantly swept away, replaced by a surge of hot-blooded fervor.

“Yes, the world does not belong to one family alone. Perhaps the emperor truly is chosen by Heaven. Or perhaps Heaven has nothing to do with it at all. Master, I lack your deep concern for the people’s welfare, but I am willing to follow you, to be a useful man in this age of turmoil.”

Li Chunfeng laughed heartily. “Good disciple! With you at my side, this Great Tang will surely become a dynastic model for the ages.”

The two of them enjoyed their first meal in Chang’an at a tavern. As night fell, lanterns were hung high along either side of Vermilion Bird Avenue. Hundreds of Kongming lanterns drifted into the sky from all corners of the city, replacing moon and stars with their glow. In the third year of the Zhenguan era, Chang’an was lively even after dark. There was no curfew in place, and according to the tavern boy, the imperial examinations had brought a month-long night market to the city, with goods from every corner of the world—even those from Persia and Byzantium—available for purchase.

By the time Lu Xin descended from the tavern, the full moon hung like a disk in the sky. The streets were even more crowded by night. Originally, Li Chunfeng had planned to find an inn first, then slowly find a way to approach the court. However, before leaving the Xu residence, Xu Sanjin had pressed into Lu Xin’s hand a jade ring, instructing him to seek out a wealthy merchant named Qian Hai upon arrival in Chang’an—a close friend of Xu Sanjin’s. Staying at Qian’s home would provide them with security and support.

Lu Xin’s suggestion was quickly accepted by Li Chunfeng. As newcomers, it was prudent to have a local connection. Besides, if they wished to enter officialdom, establishing connections was the first step. Since Qian was a merchant of means, he likely knew some officials—a resource that could prove invaluable for Li Chunfeng’s future plans.

Chang’an’s social strata were strictly defined. The northern part of the city housed the imperial palace and the royal family. The eastern quarter was reserved for officials of various ministries; ordinary citizens, no matter how wealthy, could rarely buy property there, let alone live there. The western quarter was the commercial hub, bustling with trade—virtually all merchants coming to Chang’an would stay there and trade at the West Market. South of the Mingde Gate lay the southern city, the domain of commoners and the poor, and also the most chaotic and mixed in character.

Qian Hai’s residence was in the western quarter, close to the West Market and easy to find. According to Xu Sanjin, one only needed to ask anyone near the market for directions.

The night was magnificent; every street in the western quarter was ablaze with light, thronged with people. Lu Xin encountered more merchants carrying goods than anyone else as he walked. The West Market was near the imperial city, nestled between Yanshou and Qunxian wards. Though not as large as the East Market, its greater proximity to the common folk made it all the more lively.

“Daxing City was built by Emperor Wen of Sui according to celestial principles, with the emperor at the center and officials arrayed around him. There are a hundred and eight wards in the city, arranged like a chessboard, corresponding to the thirty-six celestial spirits and seventy-two earthly fiends. From the very beginning, some master must have intervened in its construction. If a dragon vein lies beneath the palace, then this is truly a formidable array!”

Li Chunfeng was not new to Chang’an, and knew the palace’s layout well. But this was the first time he’d wandered its streets as a commoner. Lu Xin, meanwhile, was drawn wherever the crowds were thickest, completely captivated by the city that never slept.

It took the pair about fifteen minutes to reach Yanshou Ward, beside the West Market. Unfortunately, the Qian residence was not located there, but farther southwest, in Huaiyuan Ward, directly south of the market. With no other choice, Lu Xin continued south. The streets were packed, and despite their width, were still crowded. People of all ages who had stayed home by day now seemed to fill the streets. The air was thick with the scents of countless foods, and children’s laughter and shouts rang everywhere. Though the distance was not far, it took them half an hour to reach their destination.

According to residents, Huaiyuan Ward was home to the wealthiest merchants in Chang’an. The location was excellent, and the mansions were modeled after the imperial gardens—grand and beautiful. The Qian residence stood on the ward’s central axis, facing the main avenue of the West Market. From outside, it appeared even larger than the Xu residence, and its architectural style was clearly different from that of the Jiangnan region.

Yuezhou, where the Xu residence was located, lay in the south, with a hot, humid, and changeable climate. Houses there emphasized ventilation, shade, and rain protection—thin walls, light roofs, deep eaves, and fine materials throughout. Chang’an, by contrast, lay on the central plains, with flat terrain and little rain, so such features mattered less. The Qian residence looked as though it had been built of great blocks of stone—likely the same as those used in the palace. The walls were high and thick; the double gates were gilded, radiating opulence at a glance.

Though it was night, four guards still stood erect at the entrance, all robust men in high spirits. One wore a badge at his waist, thirty to thirty-five years old, broad-shouldered and burly—likely the leader. Seeing Lu Xin approach, he came down the steps at once to block his path.

“Who goes there?”

“Is this the residence of Qian Hai, Master Qian?”

“It is. Who are you, and what business brings you here at this hour?”

The guard was extremely cautious, his voice harsh. Lu Xin frowned, displeased, and produced the jade ring.

“This is your master’s token. I wish to see him.”

The guard laughed. “What a joke! Anyone could show up with a random ring and claim to be an old friend of our master’s. If that were allowed, our house would be a stage for clowns! Do you know how many people come hoping to see our master every day? All beggars and vagrants.”

The guard sneered as he inspected the ring, his disdain plain to see. Lu Xin, recognizing the deliberate obstruction, his gaze hardened. He snatched the ring back and seized the guard’s wrist.

“Ow, ow—let go, let go, please! Someone, help! Help!”

“Hmph! Bullies living off another’s power. Are all Qian’s people so despicable?”

Lu Xin laughed coldly, tightening his grip. The guard leapt in pain, while the other three, enraged, rushed forward with staffs. Lu Xin stood his ground. Two seconds later, he stepped forward, a surge of power radiating from within, sending the three men flying back to crash into the main gates.

With a thunderous bang, the doors shuddered as if the entire residence trembled. The guard leader, still in Lu Xin’s grasp, paled in terror and begged for mercy. At that moment, the right-hand door creaked open.

“Who dares make trouble at my house? Tired of living, are you?”

A man in his fifties, richly dressed with a ruddy complexion, strode out, his voice sharp with anger. The guard leader, seeing him, cried out as though he’d seen his savior, “Steward Chen, save me! This man demanded to see our master, and when I spoke a few words, he assaulted me. Steward Chen, you must do us justice!”

“See the master? Think you’re some hero just because you know a few tricks? Let me be clear: the master is visiting Lord Wei Zheng tonight and has left orders to receive no one. You two—whatever your business, come back tomorrow.”

Steward Chen squinted coldly from the threshold. Lu Xin grew angrier, about to retort, when Li Chunfeng’s voice sounded quietly in his ear.

“Enough. This place is not fated for us, my disciple. Let’s go.”

“I understand, Master. Hmph! You blind fools—one day you’ll regret this!”

Lu Xin glared fiercely at Steward Chen, then turned away. The two figures soon melted into the night, as the West Market reached its peak of evening bustle.