Tome of Troubled Times

Chapter 683: Please Enter the Trap

Racing eastward toward the capital, the guardian cavalry followed a route along the famous Taihang Mountains.

As they reached the end of the Taihang Mountains, they arrived at a mountain known as Western Mountain. Beyond this, the terrain opened up, and the capital lay ahead. The name of Western Mountain was indeed pretty self-explanatory—it simply referred to the mountain west of the imperial capital.

By the time Yeletu and his men reached Western Mountain, it was deep into the night. Snow blanketed the ground, and the capital was shrouded in darkness, invisible in the snowy night.

Yeletu abruptly raised a hand, signaling the group to halt. “The closer we get to the target, the more cautious we must be. War in the Central Plains differs greatly from our own. Be wary of ambushes. Send two squads to scout the left and right sides of the mountain ahead.”

Two groups quickly dismounted, vanishing into the dark forest with their movement arts.

The remaining cavalry stayed in place, reining in their horses and surveying the surroundings. The dense forest, cloaked in shadows and silence, seemed eerily foreboding under the dim light of the snow-covered night.

Winter campaigns differed significantly from conventional campaigns. For instance, in snow-covered woods, the absence of startled birds could no longer be used as a reliable indicator of hidden enemies, as most birds had already migrated.

Despite this, many soldiers felt their leader was being overly cautious. The capital of Xia was unlikely to station ambush troops in the middle of nowhere—after all, they did not even have the forces to deal with their own problems, let alone soldiers to spare.

Before long, the scouts returned with their report. “No ambushes.”

Yeletu exhaled in relief. “It seems they truly haven’t set up defenses here. Move out, speed up, and send the signal!”

Whoosh!

A firework streaked into the sky, its fiery trail piercing the snowy darkness as the cavalry advanced toward the capital at full speed.

Lu Jianzhang had not slept a wink that night. Perched on the rooftop of his residence, he gazed at the moon. When he saw the distant signal, he let out a long breath. “Get ready.”

Lu Jianzhang had never harbored disloyalty in the past. He had served Xia Longyuan faithfully and continued to serve Xia Chichi just as loyally.

During Xia Longyuan’s reign, the emperor had allowed the not-emperor to handle state affairs. As chief minister, Lu Jianzhang had used this opportunity to consolidate power and accrue wealth. Yet, he had always been plagued by fear, knowing that the world’s greatest ruler could choose to hold him accountable at any moment.

People often blamed Xia Longyuan for the chaos caused by the imposter’s poor governance, arguing that it was the emperor’s negligence that allowed it to happen. But the second tier of responsibility? No one dared to say it outright.

That second tier of responsibility undoubtedly lay with Lu Jianzhang as chief minister. In fact, one could argue that he bore the primary blame. If Xia Longyuan had ever chosen to restore order, Lu Jianzhang would have been the first to be placed on the chopping block.

Now, under Xia Chichi, Lu Jianzhang no longer had to fear such reckoning. The new empress would not bother dredging up old grievances; she had to prioritize stability for the fledgling dynasty. For a while, Lu Jianzhang had even thought serving the new regime was better—less power, perhaps, but more peace of mind. During the early days of the new dynasty, he even provided several constructive proposals for revitalizing the economy.

But what should never have happened—what absolutely crossed the line—was the continuation of Xia Longyuan’s policy of suppressing aristocratic families. While Xia Chichi had yet to act overtly, the Cui Clan’s submission letter made the trajectory clear. The implications of its content were evident to all.

If even the mighty Cui Clan was forced to renounce its martial strength to ensure survival, what hope did weaker clans have?

The new dynasty, barely established and surrounded by instability, was not seeking to consolidate and stabilize. Instead, it was wielding a knife that threatened its very foundation. Beyond his personal interests, Lu Jianzhang found himself questioning the empire’s future. He saw no viable path forward for the regime.

The situation became almost laughable when, just days earlier, the only capable army was sent off to fight the Wang Clan.

Do they truly think the capital is an unshakable fortress?

Lu Jianzhang descended from his rooftop with decisive steps, gathering his followers as he left his residence.

Meanwhile, at the western gate of the capital, the sound of galloping hooves echoed loudly in the night. Yeletu and his cavalry arrived at the city gate. Their contact within the city was even more direct than Gui Chen’s arrangement with the Wang Clan—the commanding general in charge of the gate simply allowed them entry.

Yeletu’s forces surged through the open gates without resistance, charging down the main street straight toward the imperial palace.

It was easier than they had imagined. Previously, the bureaucrats of the capital had lacked coordination, allowing the Four Idols Cult to seize control effortlessly. But now, it was the Four Idols Cult caught off guard. Most of them were likely asleep. Outside the palace gates, a handful of drowsy imperial guards barely noticed the incoming cavalry until it was too late. Seeing the barbarians sweeping toward them, they froze in shock.

Slash!

Yeletu decapitated one of the guards with a single stroke, leaping from his horse to deliver a powerful slash straight at the palace gates.

From inside, chaotic shouts erupted. The voices of members of the Four Idols Cult could be heard yelling, “Enemy attack! Defend the gates!”

To someone like Yeletu, such defenses were negligible. Within two or three strikes, the gates were flung open. Yeletu mounted his horse again as the cavalry poured into the palace grounds.

But they had barely passed through the gates when Yeletu’s charge came to an abrupt halt. His movements froze as he reined in his horse sharply, his face pale with alarm.

Before him, a perfectly formed spear formation stood arrayed in the palace square. The sharp and polished tips of the spears glittered coldly in the snowy moonlight. At the center of the formation stood Xia Chichi, clad in a dragon robe, flanked by the high-level protectors of the Four Idols Cult.

The empress had been waiting there the entire time. The supposed chaos inside the gates had been an act, drawing Yeletu’s forces into a narrow chokepoint where their formation would be unable to spread out. Now, they were caught, unable to advance or retreat.

Yeletu turned sharply, looking toward the streets outside the gates. From the shadows of the surrounding alleys, countless Four Idols Cult members emerged, blocking every possible escape route.

It was a trap.

The new empress had anticipated their attack, yet instead of placing ambushes outside the city, she had drawn them into the palace for a decisive confrontation.

Xia Chichi glanced at Yeletu, studying him for a moment before letting out a sigh. “How disappointing. I thought it might be the Vulture Tribe. If it had been Vulture Beak, who once wounded Changhe, I could’ve avenged him. But this? I don’t even know who you are.”

Yeletu’s expression turned grim. The empress standing before him exuded an unshakable presence, her every movement flawless. This was not someone of middling strength on the Ranking of Man. No—this was someone who might well have reached the second layer of Profound Mysteries, a figure worthy of the Ranking of Earth.

Everything had been a mistake.

Taking a deep breath, Yeletu asked, “Where is Lu Jianzhang?”

Xia Chichi smiled faintly. “Did you think he would rally forces to support you? How unfortunate for you. His so-called forces couldn’t even make it out of his alleyway.”

She yawned as though bored and waved her hand dismissively. “Release the arrows!”

From behind the spear formation, arrows flew in chaotic torrents.

Yeletu roared, his long saber sweeping in wide arcs, filling the air with a brilliant cascade of saber light to shield his men from the arrow storm. He bellowed to cover the din, “Lord God, where are you?!”

Xia Chichi sighed theatrically. “A venerable of our Holy Cult is watching. Why not focus on the battle instead of calling for someone else to bail you out?”

Yeletu’s frustration was palpable. It felt as though she was treating the war—a deadly serious endeavor for him and his men—as some kind of child’s play, effortlessly dismantling what they approached with utmost gravity.

Unable to contain himself, he asked, “So tell me, your troops clearly didn’t march to Langya. Where are they?”

Xia Chichi sighed again, her tone one of mild exasperation. “Of course, they’re lying in ambush along the Taihang Mountains, waiting for the Li Clan’s reinforcements. You’ve been too busy rushing here to properly scout, haven’t you? Maybe you checked Western Mountain at the end, but you certainly didn’t comb through every forest along the way. Not that it matters—we weren’t hiding on Western Mountain anyway. Oh, and since you passed through and even sent up a signal, the Li Clan probably assumes the path is clear and won’t bother scouting, either. I suppose I have to thank you for the favor.”

Yeletu said nothing. There was nothing he could say at this point.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

A second volley of arrows descended like locusts. Xia Chichi raised Iceheart, its chilling aura filling the air, and the falling snow seemed to grow even colder.

At the opposite end of the capital, in Wuyi Lane—home to the mansions of the city’s most influential officials—Lu Jianzhang and his allies had gathered. Servants and retainers spilled into the street, attempting to follow in Yeletu’s wake to storm the imperial palace.

Lu Jianzhang was already issuing commands. “Shouyi, Yushi, take your men to the Tang Clan’s estate and tie down Tang Wanzhuang. Do you think you can do it?”

Lu Shouyi and Pei Yushi were the two brightest stars of the Lu and Pei clans. Both were ranked on the Ranking of Man and when Zhao Changhe encountered Lu Shouyi in Bashu, he suspected Lu Shouyi was on the verge of breaking into the second layer of the Profound Mysteries. And indeed, both Lu Shouyi and Pei Yushi had recently broken through. Alongside them were numerous other family elites, from Ranking of Man members to those who were at the ninth layer of the Profound Gate.

When the power of the great aristocratic families united, it was a force capable of overturning the capital itself. If the Demon Suppression Bureau was unprepared, storming through the entirety of the capital would hardly be impossible. Holding Tang Wanzhuang at bay, in that case, would be trivial.

Lu Shouyi hesitated briefly but nodded cautiously. “I cannot promise victory, but simply stalling Tang Wanzhuang should be feasible. Since Qin Dingjiang was imprisoned for his crimes, the Demon Suppression Bureau has been short of capable and respected generals. Without Tang Wanzhuang, the bureau poses little threat.”

A soft sigh floated down from above, carried on the winter wind.

“What a waste. All this cunning and scheming, if only it were directed at foreign enemies... But instead, you devote yourselves to treachery and betrayal. How pathetic, to reduce your legacies to eternal disgrace.”

The conspirators froze in place, their faces pale as they looked up to see Tang Wanzhuang standing on the wall. She gazed at them with quiet calm, surrounded by the elites of the Demon Suppression Bureau, each with arrows nocked and drawn, ready to fire into the alley below.

In the frigid snow of the winter night, Tang Wanzhuang no longer wore the heavy mink coat she was always seen in. She was clad in a simple, moon-white gown, her ethereal beauty as serene as a painting.

The cold no longer affected her.

But the hearts of those felt an icy chill.