Chapter 12: The Duel

After she finished speaking, she paid no mind to the emperor’s reaction and turned to Geshtu, saying, “The envoy has been delayed in his words. Yangxin, Nangong, and Longlü have all surrendered; it seems there is no fate between them and the Great Chanyu. But this princess is different. I have already had her fortune matched, and she and the Great Chanyu truly are a pair made by heaven and earth. Their union will greatly benefit the destinies of both Han and Xiongnu.”

“Is that so?”

“Of course. As for your wish to meet her earlier, it is not impossible; I shall arrange it in a few days.”

Only then did Geshtu smile with satisfaction. “This humble servant thanks the Empress Dowager.”

Their exchange made Emperor Liu Che, still standing nearby, look awkward and almost comical. Chen Ajiao quietly tugged at his sleeve. “Your Majesty…”

Liu Che suddenly pulled his sleeve away. He stared at Geshtu in the center of the hall for a long moment, then slowly said, “I suddenly feel unwell and fear I cannot continue to entertain you. Please enjoy yourselves.”

Geshtu made a gesture, barely concealing the mockery in his eyes. “As Your Majesty wishes.”

Watching Liu Che leave the hall, Shinian felt a mixture of emotions. Empress Dowager Dou revered the teachings of Huang-Lao philosophy, the guiding ideology of early Han governance, which advocated for rest and recuperation, avoiding war. In such an environment, Emperor Wu’s ambitions seemed isolated and unsupported. So proud a man, an emperor in his own right, publicly humiliated by a mere envoy, unable even to retaliate, forced to protest only by walking away.

But everyone knew how powerless that departure truly was.

Within the hall, the music and dance resumed, wine was raised in toasts, and an atmosphere of harmony returned as if nothing had happened. After waiting a while, Shinian found an excuse to leave and stepped out of the front hall of Weiyang Palace.

Outside, all was quiet. The night was cool and clear, and the evening breeze tousled her long hair. She searched the area but saw no sign of Liu Che.

Had he returned directly?

Her gaze suddenly fell upon a white magnolia branch. She took a deep breath and slowly approached. “Your Majesty.”

Liu Che leaned against the railing, gazing afar. The palace in the moonlight looked like a fierce beast ready to devour anyone at any moment. “Why aren’t you inside drinking?”

Shinian hesitated before answering softly, “I cannot drink.”

Finally, Liu Che looked at her. “I see. You are different from those others. Tonight’s wine would indeed be hard for you to swallow.”

Recalling everything she had witnessed earlier, he suddenly felt embarrassed in a way he never had at the banquet’s humiliation. Gritting his teeth, he said with difficulty, “Disappointed? Your emperor is not what you think…”

Shinian knew she should say more to provoke him, to strengthen his resolve to resist, but looking at the man’s self-mocking and lonely face beneath the moonlight, the words caught in her throat.

“I…”

Suddenly, Yang Deyi appeared with several young eunuchs, hurrying over and bowing. “Your Majesty, the Empress Dowager requests your return.”

Shinian clearly saw disgust flash across Liu Che’s face. He said nothing, grabbed her hand, and left. Yang Deyi was fearful but, bound by the Empress Dowager’s orders, had no choice but to follow, pleading, “Your Majesty, tonight is special. Please endure for now…”

Liu Che suddenly raised his hand, undoing the red tassel around his chin, and flung his crown into the air. The twenty-four jade pendants at front and back struck the ground with a sharp, ringing sound. Yang Deyi’s eyes widened in shock. Next, the emperor removed his ceremonial robe and threw it over Yang Deyi.

This robe, handed down from the Zhou dynasty, was immensely precious and elaborate, symbolizing the emperor’s supreme status, yet now he discarded it entirely.

Yang Deyi’s legs gave way and he knelt, trembling. “I deserve death! I deserve to die ten thousand deaths!”

Those behind him also knelt, trembling with fear. “We deserve death!”

Liu Che stood there wearing only a simple sheer inner garment, his black hair loose, resembling an ordinary handsome youth. He sneered, “The Empress Dowager wants the emperor to accompany her? This robe is yours. Go in my place.”

Yang Deyi nearly fainted.

Ignoring the kowtowing crowd, Liu Che grabbed Shinian’s hand again. “Let’s go.”

“To… where?”

“Anywhere but here.”

His mood was restless, eager to leave quickly. Shinian, however, gripped his hand firmly, eyes shining. “I know a place. Will you take me there?”

Liu Che did not expect the place she mentioned to be the Southern Army camp.

The Han imperial guards were divided into Northern and Southern Armies; the Northern guarded the capital’s outskirts, while the Southern defended the palace itself. The Southern camp lay north of Weiyang Palace. Because of the Xiongnu incursion, half the soldiers had been dispatched elsewhere, leaving only half behind. They assumed any trouble was outside, but the sudden arrival of the emperor caused the commanding officer to hastily receive him, his hair unbound and in disarray, worrying that his impropriety before the sovereign might cost him his life. Yet upon seeing the emperor more disheveled—wearing only his inner garment—he was stunned and quickly knelt. “Your Majesty, I pay my respects!”

Without delay, the emperor ordered, “Bring everyone out. Assemble on the drill ground.”

The command was swift. Soon, all off-duty Southern Army soldiers stood on the parade ground—several hundred tall men clad in black, sharp as swords planted in the earth. Under the heavy night sky, they resembled dark clouds gathering beneath the heavens, silent and motionless.

The military discipline was impeccable. From the viewing stand, Shinian was deeply impressed. She had only seen military parades on television before, but the Han imperial guards rivaled even the most formidable modern troops.

A sudden unease grew within her. Nie Cheng had written, asking her to bring the emperor to the Southern camp. She had just suggested it. Naturally, Liu Che was surprised, so Shinian explained, “The Xiongnu are arrogant, but Han also has brave men. I want to see the finest troops of our dynasty, the warriors who protect the palace.”

Under such circumstances and reasons, Liu Che agreed without hesitation.

What surprised Shinian most was that he immediately summoned all the soldiers out. With such a large formation, how would this end?

The commander bowed. “Your Majesty, may I ask your orders after assembling everyone?”

Wrapped in a dark cloak, Liu Che stood on the platform. The military display slightly unsettled him. His dark eyes deepened in thought before suddenly smiling. “My beauty wishes to see the brave sons of Han. I do not know how to open her eyes to this. Do you have any good ideas?”

The commander had noticed a finely dressed lady beside him, clearly not a servant but one of the palace ladies. Sensing her subtle fragrance, he dared not look up, bowing his head. “Your servant is simple-minded and does not know how the lady wishes to observe.”

“She does not know, so I ask you. If you say you have no way, then so be it.”

The commander, sweating nervously, was at a loss. Shinian was about to intervene when Liu Che said, “If you have no way, then we shall follow tradition. On the battlefield, a soldier’s strength and valor are tested in one-on-one combat and fighting against multiple foes. My beauty wishes to see whether Han has worthy sons; then let them fight and we shall see.”

The commander was stunned. Liu Che looked down at the soldiers and slowly said, “Sons of Han, have you heard? Let me see your skills!”

A brief silence fell before a roar of cheers burst forth.

Seeing the fervor, Shinian hurriedly grabbed the commander’s arm. “What’s going on? What are they going to do?”

The commander avoided her grasp, bowing his head. “Madam, this is a custom: a drill ground martial contest. Soldiers are divided into two teams for free-for-all combat. The last standing is the victor. Please rest here for now. If you have any orders, you may tell me.”

Shinian paused three seconds, then asked, “Is there any cola? If not, wine will do! I must have a drink!”

The commander was speechless.

She was joking, of course. A brawl between hundreds of trained soldiers—no blockbuster could stage such a scene. She almost wanted popcorn.

Her eyes suddenly scanned the arena and settled on two familiar figures. She focused and saw, indeed, Nie Cheng and Lu Zhiyu! Both wore the Southern Army black, their hair bound and swords in hand, standing in the field. Nie Cheng even smiled faintly toward her.

Her heart pounded wildly. What was going on? Nie Cheng and the others had somehow joined the Southern Army? So they wanted her to bring the emperor here? Were they to participate in the brawl as well?

Nearby, Lu Zhiyu looked up at the slender figure on the platform uncertainly. “Team leader, is that woman… is she who I think she is?”

Nie Cheng said nothing. Another soldier said casually, “You don’t know? Rumor has it she was recently appointed junior envoy by His Majesty and is quite prominent in the palace. Tsk tsk, even here in the army, she has special favors… Truly the beloved.”

Lu Zhiyu was instantly crushed inside.

Damn it, in just a few days, she’s done so well?!

Ten minutes later, the contest officially began.

The rules forbade weapons and aimed to avoid serious injury; knocking down opponents was the goal. Though prepared, Shinian was still shocked as the fight erupted. Hundreds shouted and clashed on the drill ground—a spectacular sight. Soon, many lay fallen, fewer remained standing, and the contest grew fiercer.

She had worried about Nie Cheng and Lu Zhiyu’s skills, but was surprised. Nie Cheng’s moves were sharp and swift, no wasted motion. He avoided entanglement, and with one lock or strike, he knocked foes down within three moves. Lu Zhiyu, in contrast, used feints to confuse, leaping about before striking vital points—a rather cunning style.

Sometimes they fought together, sometimes alone, quickly toppling many opponents.

Liu Che noticed them too. “What do you think of those two fighting?”

“Very well. Brave and outstanding.”

Shinian realized Nie Cheng must have wanted her to bring Liu Che here to draw his attention. Now that he was here and wanted to watch the fight, they had to win.

Liu Che raised an eyebrow. “You think he’s brave?”

Shinian was startled as he shed his cloak and stepped into the arena. Pointing to Nie Cheng who had just knocked down an opponent, he said, “You, come fight me.”

Everyone was stunned. Fearing Nie Cheng might not dare fight the emperor, Liu Che wasted no words and threw a punch.

Nie Cheng was surprised but sidestepped and blocked the blow. Liu Che smiled and with his other hand reached toward Nie Cheng’s throat!

Shinian gasped, but Nie Cheng flashed back, evading the strike.

Liu Che said, “If you keep dodging, even if you escape here, when you leave the drill ground, I will still punish you to death.”

Nie Cheng paused briefly, then cupped his fists. “If so, I beg pardon for my offense!”

The noisy drill ground instantly quieted as they engaged in combat.

On the stand, the commander’s legs nearly gave out. “Madam, Your Majesty… please persuade him. If His Majesty is injured, what will become of us…”

Persuade him? How could she dare?

Shinian watched the figure for a moment before stamping her foot. “Forget it. Let him fight. I think he needs this fight too.” Perhaps he had come prepared to fight all along.

On the ground, Liu Che felt his blood ignite—a sensation long absent. Facing this man, he realized he was not yielding; good, he had not been foolish.

A fist brushed his cheek, stinging. He sneered coldly and delivered a flying kick to Nie Cheng’s waist. Nie Cheng allowed the kick, then grabbed Liu Che’s leg and threw him down. In a flash, Liu Che hooked Nie Cheng’s arm with his toes, dragging him down. They crashed to the ground together. Nie Cheng leapt atop Liu Che, locking his arm around the emperor’s neck.

Liu Che struggled instinctively, but the force restraining him was like a mountain. He struggled twice more, barely moving.

Breathless, he was struck by a familiar helplessness, recalling the banquet earlier.

He had never told anyone he had seen the Changling Princess.

It was over ten years ago, when he was still a small child. He had accidentally met the princess about to be sent far away in marriage. A young woman in the bloom of youth, she had been weeping by the lake but smiled brightly upon seeing him. “Zhier? You are Zhier!”

He later learned that this Changling Princess was the highest-ranking bride sent to the Xiongnu. She was a descendant of Emperor Gaozu, his distant cousin, who had even seen him at birth. Yet because his father had been disgraced, she was chosen as a peace bride.

By the lake in early spring, his cousin held him gently, whispering, “Zhier, if one day you become emperor, remember, do not send princesses to the Xiongnu anymore. Do not let Han’s daughters suffer this way…”

He wondered then why she cried so bitterly. Did she truly not want to go? He didn’t like seeing her cry. When he grew up and gained power, he would bring her back. Would she then be happy?

She never waited for him to grow up.

Four months later, she died on the Xiongnu steppe, forever remaining there.

His eyes suddenly reddened. The envoy’s arrogance, his grandmother’s restraint, the ministers’ cowardice—all converged, culminating in that woman’s midnight reproach in the bedchamber: “‘Sending me alone to secure the nation, yet not knowing where to use the general.’ Sacrificing a woman for peace and stability—do the sons of Han not feel ashamed?”

The sons of Han should indeed feel ashamed.

He roared, a sound like shaking mountains and covering the earth, instantly reversing Nie Cheng beneath him. Clamping tight on Nie Cheng’s throat, he raised his other fist, striking his abdomen!

Then another punch. And another.

He forgot where he was, who he was, only knowing he must strike again and again, venting the fury in his chest.

After an unknown time, a pair of hands grasped his arms. “Your Majesty! You’re going to kill him!”

He turned his head to see Shinian, pale and anxious but fearless, holding him tightly. His expression cleared, and he realized the crowd was kneeling. The commander’s voice rang out, “Tonight’s contest, His Majesty takes first place! Long live the Emperor!”

Everyone knelt, shouting in unison, “Long live the Emperor! Long live the Emperor! Long live the Emperor!”

Liu Che stood slowly amid the thunderous cheers. The man he had struck lay on the ground, not dead, blood at his lips but struggling to smile. He reached out; Liu Che helped him up. They clasped hands like comrades.

Looking around at these brave sons of Han—fearless and gallant—he wondered why he had ever doubted their ability against the Xiongnu. Suddenly, a surge of strength filled his limbs, as if a great revelation had come. Many long-standing struggles found their answer.

This was how it should be. He should have done this long ago.

Shinian saw Liu Che suddenly approach and sweep her into his arms. Startled, she cried out, but he paid no heed, spinning her around once.

The world spun, the ground spun, all others respectfully bowed their heads. Only his voice whispered in her ear, soft yet resolute: “Little fairy, I promise you, I will not send Wei Zifu to the Xiongnu! No daughter of Han shall ever go to the Xiongnu!”