The main hall of the palace was submerged in a thick fog of burning incense. Two rows of ministers stood motionless, their deep purple robes appearing as black as soot in the flickering twilight of the torches. Their heads were bowed so low it seemed as though the weight of the shame staining the capital's name had snapped their very necks.
At the far end of the hall, atop the Pearl Staircase, the Emperor sat within the shadows of his throne. With every subtle tremor of his body, the golden dragons embroidered upon his black robes writhed into life under the dancing torchlight. His eyes were closed, as if searching behind his eyelids for a way to purge this catastrophe.
Suddenly, the oppressive silence was shattered by the thunderous strike of the Emperor's fist against the ebony table. His cry, born of fury and exhaustion, echoed through the rafters:
"Shame upon you, you utter incompetents! How is it possible for a band of foreign assassins to strike down my highest military official in the very heart of the capital? What were you doing while this transpired?"
The Grand Minister, his hands concealed within his billowing sleeves, stepped forward with a calculated composure.
"Your Majesty, pray forgive my audacity... but the Crown Prince Huìwén (惠文) committed an irreparable error in entrusting this vital mission to Prince Hēiláng (黑狼). Though he is a courageous commander in the trenches, he displayed a certain naivety in the labyrinth of security. The dismissal of Master Míngdé (明德) has not only left a void in the capital's defences but has wounded the loyal hearts of your veteran servants."
Standing beside the Crown Prince, Hēiláng lifted his head slightly. From beneath a disarray of black hair, he cast a piercing look at the Grand Minister, a gaze like that of a starved wolf marking its prey's throat from behind the bush.
The Crown Prince stepped forward. His voice was firm, though a vein of anger throbbed within it.
"Grand Minister, it seems your memory serves only what it desires! During the very days Master Míngdé oversaw security, the Minister of Finance and the Minister of Chariots were butchered in their own bedchambers! Yet, for the past seven months, the capital has enjoyed absolute peace, until the Grand Marshal, in his misplaced pride, expelled the Special Guard from his residence. By scorning these precautions, he beckoned death himself."
The Grand Minister gave a cold sneer. "Absolute peace? The terrorists still roam freely within the shadows of this city, while we sit here merely counting the corpses."
The Crown Prince drew a step closer, his voice low yet sharper than a blade. "Perhaps that freedom has not been entirely to your disadvantage, Excellency. Look at the vacant seats; the successors to both murdered ministers hail from Jīn (金) state and are close kinsmen of the Emperor's second consort. A curious coincidence, is it not?"
The Minister's face flushed crimson with rage. He opened his mouth to retort, but was cut short by the Emperor's thunderous roar:
"Enough!"
His voice rang through the hall, followed immediately by a heavy, racking cough. His shoulders trembled as he pressed a silk handkerchief to his mouth. After a moment, he continued in a voice that was hoarse yet resolute:
"Hēiláng is hereby relieved of his command over the Capital Guard. Henceforth, he shall serve as the 'Commander of the Palace Guards'. His sole duty shall be the protection of these walls. Master Míngdé shall be reinstated to his former post and will personally oversee this investigation."
The Crown Prince spoke up in haste, "But Your Majesty …"
"This is my decree!" The Emperor's voice left no room for protest.
He continued:
"And until a new Grand Marshal is formally appointed, his authorities shall be entrusted to a 'Council of the Grand Minister and the Crown Prince'. No military order shall be issued unless ratified by both."
The victory smile withered on the Grand Minister's lips. The Crown Prince bowed his head in despair.
The Emperor asked in a chilling tone, "Is the decree understood?" All three bowed low. "Yes, Your Majesty."
Attempting to mask his agitation, the Grand Minister asked :
"Have you considered a candidate for the Grand Marshal's vacant seat?"
The Emperor leaned back against the throne's crest. He looked on with a heavy gaze that seemed to rise from the depths of a blood-soaked past.
"I am bringing Shénwǔ (神武) back."
A silent clamour erupted among the ministers. A name that had been buried years ago in the graveyard of oblivion now echoed against the ceiling of the hall like the beating of a war drum.
Your Majesty," the Grand Minister began, adjusting the silken layers of his robes with a subtle arrogance, "you know better than any that we have dispatched envoys to him many a time over the years. Yet the General, following those grievous and bloody losses sustained in that wretched war against the Desert Barbarians during your late father's reign, insisted upon his own resignation. He stated most clearly that he was no longer fit to command the army and vowed never to return to the halls of power."
The Emperor, leaning back against the throne, gave a heavy nod of concurrence. In the ensuing silence, Crown Prince Huìwén fixed his gaze directly upon his father's weary eyes. With a voice resonating with resolve, he spoke: "Grant me leave to go and bring him back. I shall persuade him that now, more than ever, the realm has need of him."
The Emperor fell into a long silence, broken only by the crackling of logs in the great braziers. At last, he turned his gaze to the Prince, his tone laced with a grim warning: "Very well. But the journey is a perilous one".
Then, turning to the Minister of the Guards, he continued with absolute authority:
"Command a troop of the most skilled and loyal soldiers to escort the Crown Prince. You are not to allow even a single hair to be harmed on the head of the Prince and the General. Their safety is the safety of the Lóngshén (龙神) Empire."
The Minister of the Guards performed a solemn zuòyī (作揖). "With all my might," he vowed :
"I shall serve Your Majesty and the Crown Prince."