Chapter 156: Brutal Slaughter

Yun Hao’s lips were chapped, and his face flushed an unnatural red. The high fever had plunged him into unconsciousness once more, and unless a doctor was found soon, the child prodigy might not survive.

Zhangsun Wuji struggled to drip melted snow into Yun Hao’s mouth; they could delay no longer. The two strips of wolf meat he had shoved into Yun Hao’s mouth that morning were still there. Only with tiny drops of snow water could Yun Hao barely manage to swallow.

Pushing open the stone blocking the cave entrance, a fierce, biting gale rushed into Zhangsun Wuji’s mouth. He quickly clamped his mouth shut, catching his breath after a long moment. He hoisted Yun Hao onto his back and tightly bound the boy with straps. Swaying slightly from side to side, he felt the burden would not hinder his march too much. Without warhorses, the remaining journey had to be covered entirely on foot. Zhangsun Wuji had not a shred of certainty as to whether he could walk out of these mountains.

Snow was not falling, but the freezing wind whipped up fine ice particles from the mountain peaks, striking his face with a stinging pain. Zhangsun Wuji glanced at the sun and began to trudge step by step toward the north. He had no idea how far he could go, but as long as he could walk, he had to keep moving.

The freezing wind in the vast mountains mercilessly devoured every trace of warmth. The north wind blowing against his face was no different from being slashed by knives. Zhangsun Wuji felt a pang of regret; he should have fashioned a mask out of that she-wolf’s pelt. If he had, he wouldn't be enduring this misery.

A lone wolf stood at the mountain pass, watching Zhangsun Wuji as he toiled forward. Zhangsun Wuji ignored the beast and continued on his path. Meeting each other at the narrow pass, neither party showed any intention of yielding.

One wanted to devour Zhangsun Wuji to appease a stomach that had been empty of meat for days; the other wanted a wolf pelt to make a face mask. The conflict between them was irreconcilable, and thus an armed clash erupted.

No matter how sharp a wolf’s fangs were, they were no match for a saber. Zhangsun Wuji won a complete and unsurprising victory. He unstrapped Yun Hao, and steaming, bright red wolf blood was dripped into the boy's mouth. Yun Hao swallowed a few mouthfuls, but soon seemed unable to take any more. Zhangsun Wuji shook his head helplessly and gulped down the still-warm blood himself.

He needed to replenish his body heat while it was still hot; before long, the bitter wind would freeze the wolf's carcass harder than stone. Naturally, while the body had not yet frozen stiff, Zhangsun Wuji fashioned a wolf-skin mask for himself. Though the craftsmanship was somewhat crude, it possessed a distinct post-modernist style.

The sun slanted westward. The wind began to blow again, first causing the snow granules on the ground to roll slowly, and immediately afterward forming a white snow-dragon, until thousands upon thousands of snow-dragons merged into a blinding white-out blizzard across the sky. Zhangsun Wuji knew he had to find a windbreak immediately, or the blizzard would freeze him into a snow sculpture.

Rounding a mountain spur, Zhangsun Wuji’s eyes instantly grew moist. Ahead lay a city—a small county town stood right there. That was no mere county town; it was the hope of survival. He let out two strangled cries of "Ah! Ah!", only to realize that he had already lost his voice.

He broke into a run, slipped, fell flat on his rear, scrambled up, and kept running. He continued to utter hoarse sounds from his throat. From some point onward, Zhangsun Wuji seemed to have completely lost his ability to speak.

Suddenly, the hurried sound of hoofbeats echoed through the howling wind. Zhangsun Wuji looked back to see a dozen horsemen galloping toward him with raised whips and flying hooves.

It was over! Zhangsun Wuji closed his eyes in agony!

***

Yang Jian opened his eyes; the events of the previous night had angered him so much that he had spent half the night tossing and turning unable to sleep. Consequently, he had overslept a little this morning. Through the mulberry-paper window, the pale cyan light of dawn was already reflecting inside.

Today was not a grand court assembly, but Yang Jian intended to convene one nonetheless. Deposing the Crown Prince, Yang Guang, was Yang Jian's sole thought now.

"Dugu has wronged me, bringing up such a wolf-hearted creature. This is going to destroy the foundation of my Yang family!" Yang Jian muttered through gritted teeth. If it were possible, he would gladly inflict a couple of slashes on this unfilial son right now.

"Imperial Father, surely it hasn't come to that? It's merely a woman; a woman like Lady Xuanhua is hardly worth Imperial Father holding her in such high regard." Yang Guang picked up the thread of conversation, sauntering out from behind a pillar with an unconcerned expression.

"You... how did you get in here?" Yang Jian pointed at Yang Guang, his finger trembling uncontrollably. What was Yang Guang trying to pull? How could he possibly appear in the imperial bedchamber?

"Imperial Father has fallen ill, and as a son, it is only natural to taste his medicines and attend to his meals. Our Great Sui was founded upon filial piety; surely I am not in the wrong?" Yang Guang strolled leisurely to the side of Yang Jian’s couch, fixing his old father with a direct stare. There was not a shred of filial affection in his eyes; they held only icy ruthlessness.

"Audacious! What are you trying to do? Guards! Someone, come quickly!" Yang Jian pointed at Yang Guang, shouting at once as he saw his son pressing closer and closer.

Several eunuchs promptly appeared outside the door. Entering the bedchamber, they immediately interposed themselves between Yang Jian and his son. Strangely, however, they did not face Yang Guang, but instead turned to face Yang Jian.

"Come out! Didn't you tell Imperial Father that I was disrespectful to you? Lady Xuanhua!!" Yang Guang beckoned over his shoulder, and a breathtakingly beautiful woman stepped into the room. It was none other than Lady Xuanhua, who had wept and poured her grievances out to Yang Jian just last night. At that moment, Lady Xuanhua’s face was flushed with a soft, alluring smile. As she drew near Yang Guang, he pulled her straight into his arms. Lady Xuanhua immediately surrendered to his embrace, shooting Yang Guang a deeply flirtatious glance.

"Impudent! Guards, seize this rebellious wretch!" Yang Jian’s eyes were practically spitting fire; this rascal dared to dally with his imperial consort right before his very eyes. This was open rebellion!

"Imperial Father, spare yourself the shouting. The Director of Palace Attendants has already been sent to be buried in the imperial garden. Around here, it seems no one listens to your edicts anymore." As Yang Guang spoke, his hand slipped into Lady Xuanhua’s bodice, kneading her breasts without restraint. Lady Xuanhua’s face flushed fiery red, her gaze swimming with intoxicating desire and pleading need. Gone was the Lady Xuanhua who had knelt weeping before Yang Jian the previous night.

"My child... do you harbor no filial affection at all, that you must rebel? Do you not know that whatever cause one plants, one reaps the corresponding fruit?" Yang Jian suddenly ceased his anger. As a seasoned statesman, he already understood what Yang Guang intended to do today. By using Yang Guang's childhood pet name, Yang Jian still hoped to awaken some ties of blood and affection, or at least buy himself a path to survival.

"Shut your mouth!" Yang Guang gave a fierce tug with his large hand, ripping Lady Xuanhua's bodice right off. Her white breasts and twin crimson peaks were fully exposed to everyone present. Lady Xuanhua let out a startled cry, instinctively trying to cover herself with her hands, only for Yang Guang to grab a handful of her hair.

"Just for a cheap wretch like this, you actually intended to depose me. Today I am standing right here; go ahead and try to depose me. Your Renshou Palace has long since become my world. Aside from that Director of Palace Attendants—though he has already turned into fertilizer for the peonies. As a eunuch, dying beneath the peony blossoms can be considered living up to his loyal service." Yang Guang yanked Lady Xuanhua's hair while the poor woman shielded her head with both hands, not daring to cry out or scream for fear of angering Yang Guang and being turned into flower fertilizer herself.

"I will pass the throne to you right now, will that suffice?" Yang Jian closed his eyes in agony. The person he hated most now was not Yang Guang, but Empress Dugu Qieluo, who had long since passed away. It was she who had advised him to strip Crown Prince Yang Yong of his status as a commoner and establish such a jackal as the heir. Now that jackal had grown sharp fangs and claws; not only was he baring them, but he was about to bite.

"I don't need you to pass it to me; today I can proclaim myself Emperor of my own accord. Yuwen Shu has taken control of the city defenses, and Yang Su is standing right outside the gates of Renshou Palace. I would like to see who can come to save you. Oh! I forgot, from now on I should be called the Emperor." Yang Guang shoved the naked Lady Xuanhua away. If he didn't have important matters to attend to today, he would have had his way with this cheap woman right in front of Yang Jian.

"What on earth are you trying to do? Treason and parricide? If the blood of the Son of Heaven is spilled upon the earth, the realm will burn with drought and breed demons of misfortune. Locusts in June, leaving not a single blade of grass behind. Do you truly dare to brave universal condemnation for your own selfish sake?" Family ties having failed, Yang Jian could only pin his hopes on superstitious terror and intimidation.

"Nothing at all! What could I possibly want to do? Imperial Father has been tired for a while now, it's simply time to rest and recuperate." With that, Yang Guang waved a hand, and the several eunuchs lunged forward. They shoved Yang Jian down onto the daybed, pinning his arms and legs. Just as Yang Jian opened his mouth to roar, damp fabric towels were pressed one after another over his face.

Watching his old father's body twitch and spasm continuously, Yang Guang smiled hideously and said, "Imperial Father, you are tired, it's time to rest. Oh right, killing people doesn't necessarily require seeing blood. Keep your blood as the Son of Heaven!" With that, he turned and strode out of Yang Jian's bedchamber. The very instant his foot crossed the threshold, Yang Jian's legs kicked out violently in a final spasm...

Yang Yong was in a state of intense agitation. This was the first time since he had been deposed that his father, Yang Jian, had summoned him into the palace. He remembered how, years ago, he had climbed up a tree just to call out to his father and beg for a single meeting, only to be refused, and even accused by Yang Su of having lost his mind. His churning excitement was impossible to suppress; finally, he would be able to see his father again, and his grievances could finally be washed clean.

With a pounding heart and trembling hands, Yang Yong could barely walk properly, unaware that he was even moving his arms and legs on the same side in an awkward gait.

Standing before the palace gates was Yang Su. Yang Yong gave a violent start. This old bastard was one of Yang Guang's men—what was he doing standing here? Could it be... that summoning him here today meant...?!

"Lord Minister!" Yang Yong steadied his mind and bowed deeply to Yang Su.

"Hmph!" Yang Su accepted the bow with an arrogant, overbearing air, not even returning a word of greeting, merely letting out a faint "Hmph" from his nose to acknowledge it.

Yang Yong felt a sudden sense of foreboding. If Yang Jian had summoned him to the palace, Yang Su would never have dared treat him with such disrespect.

"What are you people doing?" Yang Yong whirled around, intending to flee, but before his body had even completed the turn, he was pinned down by the guards behind him.

"Take him inside!" Yang Su's tone was chillingly abnormal. Uttering just that single command, he strode straight into the palace. The guards behind him grabbed Yang Yong as if he were a mere chick and hauled him right through the gates.

In front of Renshou Palace, Yang Guang stood upon the steps, looking down at his elder brother from above.

"Imperial Father has passed away, Eldest Brother should go inside and take a look!" Yang Guang waved his hand casually, his breezy, carefree demeanor looking nothing at all like a man whose father had just died.

"You... you actually committed parricide!" Yang Yong pointed at Yang Guang, his hand trembling uncontrollably. If he still didn't realize that Yang Jian's death was connected to Yang Guang, he would have lived his forty-odd years in vain.

"So what if I did? Do you perhaps want to avenge our father? Excellent! I'll give you a chance. Guards, give him a blade. Let him avenge his father and be a good son." Yang Guang said with a smile to the guards beside him.

Back when Yang Guang was the Grand Administrator of Yangzhou, he had led troops to capture Jiankang, personally braving flying stones and arrows countless times to slay enemy generals in battle. And this deposed Crown Prince Yang Yong had spent his days mingling with weak, bookish scholars like Ming Keliang, Yao Cha, and Lu Kaiming. Yang Guang was confident that even fighting his eldest brother with one arm tied behind his back, he could easily defeat him.

"Yang Guang, are you even human? Committing treason and parricide, and now you want to slaughter your own flesh and blood! No wonder people say the imperial family is the most ruthless of all. I'm standing right here. If you have the guts, kill your own blood brother with a single stroke!" Driven to extremes, Yang Yong grew bold. To stick one's head out or pull it back led to the same fate; since the path of survival was cut off, he might as well play the defiant hero.

Later historians writing about this would at least be able to pen his end in stirring, heroic terms.

Yang Guang was momentarily taken aback, not expecting his cowardly eldest brother to put up such a front. Reaching out, he pulled the saber from a guard's waist and dragged it along the stone steps as he walked down. With every step he took, the blade scraped against the stone, the sound ringing out like a series of death summons. Yang Yong swallowed hard; though his legs were shaking as if he were plucking a pipa, he stubbornly forced himself to stand firm, refusing to collapse onto the ground.

Face-to-face, the two brothers locked eyes. In his elder brother’s eyes, Yang Guang saw panic, fear, and perhaps even a tiny shred of rage—but there was not a single trace of fierce, martial courage. It was clear that no matter what, this eldest brother of his would never dare to fight to the death!

"Ha!" Yang Guang flourished the saber, making as if to slash down. Startled, Yang Yong instantly lost all strength in his legs. His body went limp, and he collapsed helplessly onto the ground.

"How did the Yang family end up with a good-for-nothing like you!" With a swift kick, Yang Guang sent the speechless Yang Yong sprawling onto the pavement.

Lying on the ground, Yang Yong bitterly hated his own feeble body. He desperately wanted to display his toughness—fearless in the face of peril, expressionless even with blades at his throat. But while his mind willed it, his flesh failed him.

"Pour a cup of poisoned wine for him to drink, and make it quick. Looking at him makes my head spin!" Disgusted and annoyed by his gutless eldest brother, Yang Guang waved his hand impatiently. A man over forty years old, yet lacking even an ounce of backbone—how could he ever rule this vast nation in the future?

Wolf-like guards lunged forward. A grinning general picked up a flagon of poisoned wine, flipped open the lid, and forced the contents down Yang Yong's throat.

"Yun Dingxing...!"