Chapter Two: Eastern Capital

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Just after the turn of the year, the capital of the Eastern Metropolis was still bitterly cold. Along Chang'an Avenue, the plum trees on both sides stood proud, each blossom unfurling bravely against the chill. The shops on either side had already opened early for business.

A heavy snow had fallen the previous night, and atop the thick city walls, the Imperial Dragon Guards were busy sweeping away the deep drifts that had accumulated.

In a small inn near the Ministry of Justice, a young man sat quietly, gazing at the kettle over the brazier before him, though his thoughts were elsewhere.

A shrill whistle—"Woooo... woooo..."—sounded as the water boiled. The youth finally returned to himself.

"Ah! Hiss—" he exclaimed, hastily removing the kettle from the fire. In his hurry, he forgot to wrap his hand with the nearby cloth, and the scalding pain made him let go at once. Hot water splashed onto the nearby writing desk, soaking the books piled atop it.

He quickly wiped the water from the surface with his sleeve, then carefully opened the books to dry them out.

"Luckily the master isn't here—or I'd be scolded again," he muttered to himself as he looked at the water-stained pages.

His clothing bore no trace of luxury, only a single pale blue lotus flower embroidered on the cuff—marking him as no native of the capital. On the table lay just a few simple, timeworn volumes.

Yet, the sword hanging at the head of the bed was another matter. Its pale blue scabbard was inlaid with several white pearls from the deep sea, and the hilt was fashioned from branches of red coral.

"Li Fu of Liang Prefecture? Is Li Fu of Liang Prefecture here?"

"Yes, yes, I'm here!" The youth, hearing his name called, hurried downstairs.

A man dressed in white scholarly robes stood in the inn's main hall, holding several red invitation cards, and with his other hand, he wrote busily on the table before him.

"You are Li Fu?" the scholar asked, glancing at the boy who had rushed down.

"I am, sir," the youth replied with a respectful bow.

"Here is your scholar's robe and the badge for this year's Lantern Festival Examination. Report to the Ministry of Justice tomorrow at dawn for the preliminary test—do not forget." The scholar circled Li Fu's name on the list before him, then proceeded to call out the next candidate.

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This was the list of candidates for this year's Lantern Festival Examination. The inn served as a temporary hostel, established by the Student Academy for participants coming from various regions.

Since the founding of the Great Tang under Emperor Taizong, talents from across the land were welcomed. In the third year of the Zhenguan era, the emperor ordered Grand Tutor Wei to establish the Student Academy. Thereafter, he decreed that all promising youths under sixteen from the Fourteen Prefectures must first pass the Lantern Festival Examination at the start of the year to enter the academy, then take part in the triennial imperial examination should they wish to enter officialdom.

Thus, this time of year was especially favored by the noble families of the capital—making the city come alive with festivity.

"Yang Zixu! Is Yang Zixu here? Scholar Yang!" the academy's scholar called loudly. Receiving no reply for some time, he grew anxious.

"No need to shout, I’m right here."

From upstairs, a youth shuffled out, rubbing his eyes and yawning as he shrugged on an outer coat. Kicking open his half-closed door, he descended the stairs.

"What’s all this commotion—can’t a fellow get a good morning’s sleep?" Yang, paying no heed to the scholar, walked over and snatched up his badge.

"Hold on, Scholar Yang. You know that once you check into this inn, you aren’t allowed to leave for the three days of the examination. This rule has been observed for hundreds of years. If your esteemed grandfather learns what happened last night..." The scholar leaned in to whisper, clearly aware of Yang Zixu’s background.

At his words, Yang’s drowsiness vanished. His eyes flickered, and he offered a sly smile: "So, you know about last night?"

"Well..." The scholar hesitated.

"Last night, seeing the bright moon, I was overcome and went out to admire it. Hardly a serious matter, wouldn’t you say?" Yang gave a mischievous grin and deftly slipped a silver ingot into the scholar’s sleeve.

"If it’s nothing serious, then there’s no need to trouble my grandfather. The old man deserves his peace—let’s not bother him with trifles." Yang half-closed his eyes, whether from sleep or calculation it was hard to say.

"Indeed. But next time you go ‘moon-gazing’, Scholar Yang, kindly refrain from returning by the side gate. According to the innkeeper, a dog’s been posted there for the safety of the candidates," the scholar replied, touching the ingot in his sleeve with a meaningful glance.

Yang paused in mid-step, shuddered, yawned, and returned to his room.

The scholar continued distributing badges to the examinees, paying the incident little mind.

The snow from last night had fallen thick and heavy; by midday, the streets were still not fully cleared. Apart from a few children playing, there were scarcely any people about.

Suddenly, a burst of urgent hoofbeats echoed along Chang'an Avenue.

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"Great victory in the northwest! Great victory in the northwest! The Marquis of Martial Valor and sixty thousand Celestial Strategy troops have shattered the Rong and Di! All three border garrisons have been retaken!"

"Great victory in the northwest—the Marquis of Martial Valor has routed the Rong and Di! The three northern strongholds are fully restored!"

A warhorse thundered down Chang'an Avenue, the officer on its back proclaiming the news at the top of his lungs, heading straight for the grandest building in the capital—the Daming Palace.

"Is it true? Three years, and the Rong and Di are finally driven back?!"

"The Celestial Strategy Army truly is the mightiest force of the Great Tang—only two months to repel the invaders!"

"It’s not just the Celestial Strategy Army—remember, the Marquis himself was commanding in the field."

"Of course! The Marquis of Martial Valor hadn’t left the capital in nearly seventy years, and now, with him leading the campaign, victory was certain!"

The news sent a wave of joy through the city. The war in the northwest had dragged on for three years, and even the most renowned Tang armies had suffered defeat at the hands of the Rong and Di. Yet now, in just three months, the Celestial Strategy forces, under the Marquis’s command, had destroyed the invaders and reclaimed the three major strongholds. It was a most welcome gift for the capital’s people on the eve of the Lantern Festival.

Within the inn, the candidates for the examination rushed into the street, overjoyed at the sight of the black wolf banner fluttering behind the messenger.

"Victory already? I thought it would take longer—how could the Rong and Di collapse so quickly?" Yang Zixu, opening his window upstairs, watched the messenger disappear down the road, puzzled.

He was about to close the window and return to finish his sleep when he noticed Li Fu in the neighboring room. Li Fu stood at his window, brow slightly arched, right hand resting on the sill, index finger tapping lightly as if deep in thought.

Sensing someone’s gaze, Li Fu turned his head. There, leaning nonchalantly against the window frame, was a young man in a long robe, arms folded, lips curled into a faint, mocking smile—as if he’d discovered something amusing.

"What’s wrong? Aren’t you happy about the victory?" Yang Zixu yawned, cursing himself for staying out so late at the pleasure boats.

"It’s not that—I just didn’t expect the Rong and Di to fail to survive the winter," Li Fu replied, nodding politely to Yang Zixu, finding this youth rather interesting. It was nearly noon, yet he still looked half-asleep. Li Fu smiled.