An Qingxu walked slowly toward the general's desk, his gaze grave. He reached out, lifting a candlestick that had toppled earlier when an inexplicable gust swept through the tent, setting the flame to flicker and shadows to dance eerily across the walls. His brow furrowed slightly. With measured steps, he moved to another candlestick, carefully lighting it. The flame sprang up, casting restless light upon his face, revealing lines of troubled thought. Returning to the desk, he set the candlestick straight, his eyes passing over Yan Zhuang with a look half-hesitant, half-resolved.
Yan Zhuang stared at the wavering flame, then gave a long, heavy sigh. His words carried dark weight:
"With His Majesty's health failing, he cannot last long. If the Crown Prince truly wishes to be a filial son, preparations must be made early. As for Qing'en—I too shall speak with him, pave the way before it is too late."
An Qingxu's heart jolted. A flicker of panic shot through his eyes; his voice trembled:
"This matter… must still be discussed with my brothers. To rebel, to betray one's father—it is the gravest of sins, treason against both family and Heaven! Such a crime destroys entire clans!"
He gripped the candlestick tighter, emotions surging, still clinging to a final shred of hesitation.
Yan Zhuang, seeing the string had already been plucked, allowed a cold smile to curl his lips. His voice sank low:
"So long as you say nothing, no one need ever know."
An Qingxu's head snapped around, eyes wide with shock.
"Why?"
Yan Zhuang's expression twisted, his voice dripping with menace:
"The emperor cloisters himself in the palace. All state affairs pass through me. The civil and military officials already follow my lead. If I announce the emperor's death, none will question, none will dare resist. And with Li Zhu'er, the eunuch who attends him daily, striking the blow, the deed will be silent, flawless. What then have you to fear?"
An Qingxu fell into silence. A strange light flickered in his eyes. At length, he nodded slowly:
"Then it is settled. Beyond the three of us, none must know. As for the time of action, we will decide later."
Yan Zhuang, overjoyed, burst into sycophantic praise:
"The Crown Prince is wise beyond compare—worthy of Qin Shi Huang, of Han Wu! Who else among the heroes of this age can stand beside you?"
The flame trembled. A faint smile played upon An Qingxu's lips, yet deep in his eyes there lingered a shadow impossible to read.
Drunk on Yan Zhuang's flattery, An Qingxu felt himself as though already robed in dragon-embroidered silk. His heart swelled with satisfaction.
"Master Yan, you have great merit in aiding the state. Once enthroned, I will see you honored and ennobled, to bring peace to the realm."
Inwardly he thought: The throne of the heir—how could I hand it to another? The empire was won by my toil in the field. Why should I not take it?
Indeed: When the world declines and morals wither, heresies flourish. Subjects slay their lords, sons slay their fathers…
Wu Tong, listening unseen, thought grimly: The Yan army is rotten with treachery. If beasts lead men, men too will devour one another.
An Qingxu clapped his hands, delighted:
"Brother Yan, braving this storm to visit me—surely you are hungry. Let us set wine and meat, drink together till dawn!"
Hearing himself addressed as "brother," Yan Zhuang's heart soared.
"How could I refuse, when the Crown Prince himself honors me so? Tonight, we shall drink as brothers, and not part until drunk!"
An Qingxu laughed in glee, ordering guards to prepare a feast. But when the tent flap was drawn aside, the storm wind rushed in like a beast. In that instant, Wu Tong struck—his right palm lifted, extinguishing every light in the tent. Chaos burst forth in the dark.
Like the wind, he and Li Qian slipped away. Behind them, An Qingxu's voice roared:
"Quickly—light the candles! At once!"
By the time Wu Tong and Li Qian returned to the Beggar Sect hideout, it was already the hour of the Tiger. Exhausted, they rested.
The next morning, the Beggar Sect allies dispersed to their tasks. Wu Tong and Li Qian, now on foot, wound their way up Mount Hua. The path twisted steeply, forests whispering with birdsong, clear streams trickling over stone. As they climbed, they spied several figures hurrying upward. Exchanging a glance, the two followed in silence.
Halfway up, they came upon a great temple complex, its whitewashed halls clinging to the slopes in tier upon tier. On the broad courtyard below, two groups faced off in heated standoff.
Wu Tong and Li Qian slipped into the shadows of the trees, watching.
From the crowd, a Daoist master called out sternly:
"Chongxu, why do you consort with outsiders to storm Huashan? What is your intent?"
Chongxu, a middle-aged Daoist of middling stature, retorted hotly:
"I will not accept it! When Master passed away, he gave the headship to Zhufeng. Today, I will take back what is mine!"
Another Daoist, styled Zhenchang, spoke in rebuke:
"It was fate. In the martial world, many Daoist sects have passed the mantle to secular disciples. Why should you be surprised?"
Chongxu's face darkened:
"Fate? Master's favoritism, nothing more! Why else give the leadership to a mere layman?"
Zhenchang said sternly:
"Your brother Zhufeng is virtuous and capable. Do not slander him!"
Chongxu's eyes blazed:
"Virtue and words are nothing. Let us prove it with combat! Whose skill is higher—that one shall be master!"
Voices rose from the crowd:
"Yes! Let them fight! The stronger shall lead!"
Excitement flared. Many Huashan disciples themselves clamored. To see a contest for the leadership promised drama. Soon the cries drowned all else—if they did not fight, there would be no resolution.
Chongxu, emboldened, shouted:
"Zhufeng! If you will not fight me, then renounce the leadership here and now!"
The crowd roared:
"Fight! Fight! To refuse is to be no hero, but a coward!"
Seeing so many voices against him, Zhufeng's brow furrowed deeply. For a moment he held his peace.
Then Zhenchang raised his voice, ringing clear:
"Brothers! A duel may be fought, but let it be known—Zhufeng has already been installed as head. That cannot change!"
Hearing this, Zhufeng steadied himself. His uncle's words gave him authority. He stepped forward, speaking slowly:
"Brothers, I am Zhufeng of Huashan. My brother here speaks only of taking the headship, yet gives no rightful cause. Still, if you all demand combat, then let us cross hands. But know this: the position of sect leader has already passed to me—this shall not be undone."