Is the Prince of Yan Planning to Rebel?

Wen Zhengxi came from a great clan; everything had always been arranged for him, and he had never once run into a situation like this, where no amount of explaining could clear his name. Several times he tried to speak, but each time Wang Chong shouted him down, and the voices around him were overwhelming—slander heaped upon slander—leaving him no room to argue back. A surge of hot blood rushed to Wen Zhengxi's head, and he lashed out at Wang Chong with a palm, shouting, "You traitor, you dare to frame me?" Wang Chong silently circulated his profound art and met the blow with a palm of his own. Having already advanced to the second grade of the Innate Realm and set foot across the threshold of the Master realm, the Pure Yang Art he had never been especially skilled in suddenly became crystal clear to him; his internal force shifted in subtle, intricate variations, surging out and drawing back, roaming at will, following no fixed pattern. The moment Wen Zhengxi's palm force struck out, he felt only empty air, and his heart seized with alarm. Right on its heels came a surge of palm force rushing at him. His own force was already spent, with no room left to change course, and Wang Chong's single palm blasted him into grave injury—yet even as he struck, Wang Chong shouted, "Cousin, do you still mean to flee from your guilt?" A chill of dread ran through Wen Zhengxi. "I must not die here," he thought. "Once I am back in Chang'an, there will surely be room to explain." At once he employed his lightness skill and flew up onto the wall. Wang Chong struck out another palm, but Wen Zhengxi dared not meet it; he turned and fled. In truth, Wang Chong had held back. Wen Zhiwei had been killed by "Wen Zhengxi," and "Wen Zhengxi" still needed someone with every "right" to strike at him—yet he absolutely could not be allowed to die at Wang Chong's hands. Wang Chong was not afraid of killing, of staining his hands with blood; rather, he knew that in this matter the Wen family was the crucial factor. If he killed Wen Zhengxi, he would have to spend endless effort explaining it, but if Wen Zhengxi died at the hands of some "outsider," he need not trouble himself at all. Only by extracting himself from this whirlpool could he calmly plot a ruthless counterattack. Wang Chong watched Wen Zhengxi flee, then said with a look of deep regret, "My cousin was a perfectly good man—how did he suddenly turn into a lecher?" Then, weeping bitterly, he cried out, "How could he stoop to harming even Sister Zhiwei?" "It's my fault, my fault! I never should have sneaked out and given him the chance to strike at Sister Zhiwei." Everyone crowded around to console him. Before long Li Qingge arrived as well. Her expression was complicated; after questioning several constables, she found that, sure enough, the remaining cases all pointed to Wen Zhengxi. Instead, it was Wang Chong who earnestly begged her not to close the case for now, in case matters took another turn. Li Qingge sighed several times—she vaguely sensed something of what was going on, but this affair touched the imperial family, the great clans, and the heir apparent; how could she possibly meddle? She could only console Wang Chong and urge him not to grieve. Wang Chong at once had people see to the arrangements. They laid out Wen Zhiwei's remains for burial, and then—with especially thoughtful care—he had them burned that very night, buying the finest porcelain urn to gather up her bones. For the next several days Wang Chong did not step out, yet neither the Chrysanthemum-Killing Alliance nor the officials of Tongzhou Prefecture dared to be the least bit careless. After all, several hundred steppe warriors and two thousand Yaglakar clan cavalry had crossed into the territory—this was truly a matter of the utmost urgency. The merits each man had earned—the heads of the steppe warriors they had cut down, and even the feat of defeating the Yaglakar cavalry—were the top priority of all, and all had to be reported together. Seven or eight days later, the monk Xuan Gang arrived at Tongzhou Prefecture with Gan Ci, Yu Zao, Tie Mingzhu, Nan Xinlan, and Wang Dong. Overjoyed, Wang Chong laid out a private banquet to entertain the ablest core of his followers. What he most wanted was to get Tongzhou firmly in his grip first, but this was not something that could be rushed, and he had no suitable plan for it either. The private troops under Gan Ci's command stood apart from the court's armies and had no official standing, so the merits everyone had earned could not be converted, nor could his forces be reinforced—and all of this had to be settled as soon as possible. Yet he had no one to discuss these matters with. As it happened, the monk Xuan Gang had come, so he could at least pour out his troubles to this senior brother. Wang Chong had not really expected Xuan Gang to come up with any ideas, but to his surprise, after listening to him ramble on, Xuan Gang suddenly asked, "As the Prince of Yan, why don't you open a princely office and raise a command banner?" Wang Chong quickly asked, "Can I open a princely office and raise a command banner too?" Xuan Gang was none too clear on the ways of officialdom either; he answered a few questions and then grew muddled, and Wang Chong did not press him further. After the banquet, once Xuan Gang and Gan Ci had been settled in, he sent Wang Dong to invite the Prefect of Tongzhou. This Prefect of Tongzhou had long since been at his wit's end. He did not want to become part of the Prince of Yan faction, but by now the label clung to him as if cast in iron, impossible to wipe away, and he was fretting over exactly this when Wang Chong sent for him; he did not dare refuse. Upon hearing that Wang Chong was asking about opening a princely office and raising a command banner, he said, puzzled, "In the current dynasty, the authority to open a princely office and raise a command banner belongs only to the various princes, the Three Excellencies, and the Grand General—which this office also holds—and then to the generals of the border commands. It is only that Your Highness the Prince of Yan is not among the princes permitted to open a princely office and raise a command banner!" Wang Chong questioned him in detail and only then understood: only a prince enfeoffed for military merit was qualified to open a princely office and raise a command banner, whereas his own Prince of Yan, an enfeoffment granted by inherited privilege, held a position of the very highest honor yet was forbidden to meddle in military affairs. With every question he answered, a ring of fine sweat broke out on the Prefect's brow. After he had answered seven or eight questions, he suddenly burst into loud wailing and asked, "Is the Prince of Yan planning to rebel?" Wang Chong laughed. "What do you think I should do?" The Prefect of Tongzhou answered without a moment's thought, "The very worst course is to submit a memorial asking the Heavenly Empress to install an heir. As long as an heir apparent of the Jiang surname is set in place, the Prince of Yan can rest easy for the time being." Wang Chong mused for a long while, then said, "The tree wishes to be still, but the wind will not stop. Though I wish to live out my days in peace, so long as I am alive, there will be those who cannot rest easy. What is to be done?" The Prefect of Tongzhou pondered a long while, then answered, "The middle course is to seek enfeoffment with a border command. Only, the court would find it all but impossible to agree, and the great clans would never indulge it either." Wang Chong thought it over for a long while, then said, "That is what I want as well, but it is just as you say—no one is willing to release the tiger back to the mountain. Since you already have a worst course and a middle course, may I ask what the best course would be?" The Prefect of Tongzhou answered, "The best course is to rebel at once, raise high a great banner, and proclaim that you were forced into rebellion by the Wen family. So long as Your Highness the Prince of Yan can win a battle or two, Her Majesty the Heavenly Empress is, after all, your own mother, and she will surely make some arrangement; the resistance at court will be very slight indeed. This humble official is willing to raise the banner of revolt for the Prince of Yan—to hang up my seal and depart, hurrying to Chang'an to plead your case and explain how you had no other choice." Wang Chong could not help but laugh aloud, but on careful reflection he at once saw that the plan was a brilliant one. The highest civil official in Tongzhou was this very Prefect, and the highest military officer was Qin Gao, the Sima; if this Prefect were to leave, and Qin Gao were to pledge allegiance to him as well, then Tongzhou would indeed fall into his hands. When others rebelled, they burned every bridge behind them, but he was, after all, the Heavenly Empress's own son. If he were seized and dragged off to Chang'an, naturally all would be finished—he would be roundly scolded by the Heavenly Empress and confined to reflect on his faults. But if he won a few battles, then the way matters unfolded would become quite beyond all reckoning. The Prefect of Tongzhou gazed at Wang Chong with eager, expectant eyes. Naturally, there was self-interest behind his proposal. By now Tongzhou had become a hopeless pit; he had guessed from the very start what the Wen family meant to do, yet there had been nothing he could do about it—he had neither dared to meddle nor been able to keep clear. If he could flee back to Chang'an, then though he would bear the blame for the lost territory, so long as he was willing to work his connections, it was by no means certain that he could not stage a comeback. On the other hand, to stay here meant the place would become an arena for the great clans and the Prince of Yan to test their strength against each other; he could not possibly take Wang Chong's side, nor was he willing to pledge allegiance to the great clans—after all, to offend the Heavenly Empress was no different from seeking death. The best course was to keep as far away as possible. Wang Chong murmured to himself several times over, "Rebel, rebel, rebel..." "Should I rebel or not?"