Chapter Sixty-One: The Xu Family Stalemate and the Crown Prince’s Fainting (Part Two)

In the end, it was Helan Minzhi who faltered in the stalemate.

The Duke of Zhou’s estate was at its most prosperous when the Han and Wei clans’ three generations of matriarchs were still present; at that time, the number of servants in the household was beyond counting. Though the ladies eventually all departed, the multitude of servants remained. Yet not every one of those servants was loyal to Helan Minzhi.

Besides, they were merely servants—faced with the robust and fully armored Imperial Guards, fear took hold in their hearts. Many retreated into the home of Xu Yue.

But the Imperial Guards did not dare to act openly in broad daylight, and so a standoff ensued, with the crowd growing ever larger. Many townsfolk, having heard of the commotion, rushed over. Upon learning the details, they began shouting loudly: “A debt must be repaid!”

“Soldiers, if you shrink back today, you’ll never dare show your faces in the capital again.”

“Even if not for yourselves, for the Crown Prince’s sake, you must not retreat!”

Some among the crowd seemed to wish for the situation to escalate further. In truth, the reputation of some Imperial Guards in the capital was not sterling, but compared to Helan Minzhi, these guards were considered virtuous by the public, and so the crowd sided with them.

Officials soon arrived as well: magistrates from Jingzhao County in Chang’an, prefectural officers from Yongzhou, officials from the Court of Judicial Review, the Ministry of Justice, and various generals of the Imperial Guards. Even Dai Zhide and other high ministers set aside their affairs to rush to the scene. Each took turns trying to persuade those gathered. One of the guards, looking at Dai Zhide, asked, “Minister Dai, we know you are a good man. But is it right for the Duke of Zhou’s servants to refuse to repay their debts? Was it right for the Duke of Zhou to attempt to assassinate the Crown Prince and abduct the Crown Princess? Was it right to destroy a man’s home and inflict grievous wounds in broad daylight? Must we Imperial Guards now grovel before the Duke of Zhou whenever we see him, like dogs?”

Another guard seized the chance to shout, “We demand justice! Justice for the Crown Prince!”

With that, all the guards echoed the cry, and the onlookers joined the clamor as well.

As for the debts owed—Dai Zhide truly did not know the details, but the uproar was becoming overwhelming. If it escalated further, it would not bode well for the Imperial Guards, nor for any of the officials in Chang’an.

At that moment, the crowd suddenly parted. Someone announced, “The Crown Prince has arrived! His Highness is here!”

A contingent of Imperial Guards escorted the carriage that now drew up to Xu Yue’s door. Bi’er and Dujuan helped Li Wei descend from the carriage. He was weak and wan, lacking all strength—the aftermath of a serious illness. His face was sallow, his body gaunt, and he swayed with every step, causing the hearts of the people to clench in worry. Suddenly, a voice rang out from the crowd: “Long live the Crown Prince!”

At that, the people recalled the Crown Prince’s virtues and all echoed the cheer.

A man, angered, wedged himself through the throng, glaring at the Imperial Guards and crying out, “The Crown Prince is already so ill—how can you guards claim to protect his safety? If you’re men, charge in and seek justice for the Crown Prince!”

Would that not be reckless? There were nearly a thousand soldiers present, and if the people surged forward as well, even with Helan Minzhi’s protectors, mere numbers could overwhelm him—one blow per person, and Helan Minzhi would not survive half an hour, torn apart by the angry mob.

Dai Zhide hurried to Li Wei’s side and whispered, “Your Highness, please remain calm.”

“Minister Dai, thank you for your concern. I know my limits,” Li Wei replied. He then approached the soldiers and bowed deeply, saying, “Brave soldiers, I am grateful for your loyalty.”

His words moved many of the soldiers to tears. In unison, they replied, “Crown Prince, we dare not claim merit; this is our duty.”

The head guard seized the moment to raise his spear and proclaimed, “Long live the Crown Prince! Heaven blesses Great Tang!”

This had now reached the height of Tang dynasty’s honor!

Dai Zhide and the assembled dignitaries frowned deeply; this was the will of the people, but it could not be allowed to swell further, or disaster would surely follow. Yet the sentiment was so noble, so lofty as Kunlun Mountain, that no one could rebuke it. All could only look at Li Wei, pleading for him to resolve matters.

Li Wei signaled with his eyes—be at ease. Then he continued, “Yet, my loyal soldiers, though some disregard the law, we must not. His Majesty is in Luoyang, enduring hardship for the nation, and the Empress and he worry day and night. His Majesty’s health is not what it once was, and as his son, I am deeply concerned.”

He thought to himself—come on, shed some tears—but try as he might, none would fall. He strained, squeezing out two drops at last, then added, “If you make too much of this, what will His Majesty think? How will I, as Crown Prince, face myself in the Eastern Palace?”

He spoke no grand principles, only simple words, but they touched the hearts of all present, moving some to tears—more tears than Li Wei himself could muster.

Li Wei continued, “No matter what happens, the authorities will take care of it. Everyone, disperse.”

“Your Highness,” a guard ventured, “even when you were attacked, the authorities did nothing—will they act now for Captain Xu’s household?”

Dai Zhide and the others flushed with shame—not because they had neglected their duties, but because they were still awaiting news from Luoyang. Yet their bitterness could not be voiced.

“Please, trust His Majesty, trust your ministers. But first, let us save lives,” said Li Wei. He then turned to the door of Xu Yue’s house and called out, “Duke of Zhou, release Captain Xu’s servants. Whatever enmity lies between us, this is the capital; you are deeply favored by both my father and mother. Do not set a bad example—at the very least, do not make things worse.”

As soon as he finished, several dozen Imperial Guards rushed over, raising their shields to protect Li Wei.

Li Wei thought little of this—no matter how mad Helan Minzhi was, he would not dare act violently before such a multitude. But his expression betrayed nothing as he gazed at the great doors.

Inside, Helan Minzhi nursed his own headache; he had not imagined such brazen soldiers would dare so much. Since the Crown Prince wished to deescalate, he ordered, “Release them.”

The doors opened.

Though Helan Minzhi was furious, he was not yet mad beyond salvation; he would not destroy the Xu household, nor had he given orders for anyone to be killed. Yet some of the servants had suffered already—after so many days with no imperial edict from Luoyang, likely owing to their master’s status as the Empress’s only maternal kin, matters were being delayed, with the hope that the storm would pass with only a warning. The Crown Prince could not be provoked, but what were these guards? Xu Yue was but a minor baron, whereas his own rank was Duke of the Realm! And the ones beaten were but household servants. So the blows had been heavy.

One by one, the battered servants were dragged out—some bloodied and battered, some unconscious and carried by others.

Hearsay is one thing, but seeing is believing. Regardless of who was right, the sight of such injuries stirred the crowd and soldiers to unrest again.

Supported by Bi’er and Dujuan, Li Wei tottered over, examined the wounded, and even peeled back one man’s clothing to reveal deep, bloody welts, the fabric stuck to the wounds. He looked up at the open doors and called out, “Wu Minzhi, I do not know how I have provoked you. Even if you resent me and send men to assassinate me or to abduct the Yang family girl, so be it.”

From within, Helan Minzhi retorted, “Crown Prince, do not speak nonsense. I had nothing to do with the assassination.”

“Whether you did or not, what of these men?” Li Wei pointed at the Imperial Guards. “Most of them are sons or grandsons of the founding heroes of Great Tang. Their fathers or grandfathers either died establishing the dynasty, perished in Koguryo, Tibet, or Turkic lands. It was their forebears’ efforts that brought peace and prosperity to Tang and its people. Even if they erred, a warning would suffice. But to treat them and their families thus—I, I, I…”

He choked on his words, coughed violently, and then spat a mouthful of fresh blood onto his chest.

It was not much, but on his white robe, the crimson was striking.

Li Wei was careful not to let any blood fall to the ground—who knew if Liu Qun had mixed in cinnabar or some trick in the fish bladder, so that when bitten, the blood would stain only the robe, easily washed later, and none would be the wiser. But if it fell to the ground and was discovered, the deception would be ruined.

After spitting blood, he rolled his eyes and collapsed into Bi’er’s arms, “fainting” on the spot.

Bi’er and Dujuan hurried to carry Li Wei back to the carriage. Bi’er, knowing the truth, wailed loudly with more show than substance; Dujuan, unaware, cried in genuine anguish.

The Crown Prince had been ill, and with recent news from the palace that his consumption was improving, the common people had gone to temples to pray in thanks. And now? The Crown Prince had been provoked into a relapse, coughing blood before their very eyes. The crowd exploded into chaos. Some rolled up their sleeves, pushing through the throng, intent on storming Xu Yue’s house.

Disaster was at the brink when Bi’er turned, knelt before the furious townsfolk and soldiers, and pleaded, “Please, do not!”

The crowd quieted somewhat. All knew of the gentle, understanding maid of the Eastern Palace who doted on the Crown Prince—this was the famed Jiang Bi’er. Someone called out, “Miss Jiang, please rise! We do not deserve such respect.”

“I will not rise unless you let me finish,” she insisted.

“Miss Jiang, then please speak.”

“On the way here, His Highness was already worried something would go wrong. Whatever the Duke of Zhou’s rights or wrongs, he is still a duke. His Majesty’s health is frail—if you lose control and escalate matters, how will the Crown Prince feel when he awakens? Do you not wish for His Highness to recover?”

This gave the crowd pause. Yes, if they stormed in, their numbers would overwhelm even the officials, and Helan Minzhi could be beaten to death, venting their anger. But what of the Emperor’s reaction? Even the Crown Prince would be punished.

Xu Yue was the first to recover his composure. “Brothers, elders, I thank you all for your support. But Miss Jiang is right. For the sake of the Crown Prince, let’s endure this.”

Yet bitterness remained in his heart. He pounded the wall with his fist, sobbing bitterly. “Your Majesty, Your Majesty the Empress, do you truly not know, over there in Luoyang? The Crown Prince is your own flesh and blood, yet such unprecedented assassins have appeared! Why tolerate such a lawless relative? I cannot accept this, I cannot…”

He pounded the wall so hard his fists bled.

The wailing, the anguish, the loyal devotion of those present moved all who heard to tears.

Gradually, the soldiers and townsfolk dispersed, for the Crown Prince’s sake.

The constables escorted Helan Minzhi, battered and humiliated, back to the Duke of Zhou’s residence.

A major crisis had been averted.

But the officials, sharp-eyed, understood well: the Emperor and Empress cared greatly for public opinion. After this incident, especially the Crown Prince’s collapse and Xu Yue’s heartfelt plea, Helan Minzhi was finished.

The imperial physicians soon left, writing a few haphazard prescriptions, unable to diagnose the illness. The Crown Prince had spat blood—how could they dare claim he was healthy?

Soon after, news began to filter in. Lying with his face turned inward, Li Wei listened and could not help but smile—Di Renjie, oh, Di Renjie, what a wicked scheme you devised! No wonder you said I should not learn from you—yet I do so relish it…