Chapter Forty-Six: Li Fuguo Journeys to the South

Watching Du Hongjian prostrate on the ground and Li Mi bow his head slightly, Li Fuguo felt a secret surge of pride. He thought to himself: Heh, so what if you civil and military officials are admired by the emperor, so what if you are talented? When it truly matters, the emperor trusts and relies on us close attendants above all.

For a moment, Li Fuguo was filled with confidence and vigor.

He cleared his throat lightly, then knelt to the side and said, “Your Majesty, this humble servant finds the words of Master Li and Lord Du most reasonable. This realm ultimately belongs to Your Majesty; suppressing the rebel An and summoning the armies of each province to serve the king is only right and proper. As for Yang Qi in Jiangnan, if he dares defy the summons and refuses to dispatch troops, he becomes a traitor to the court. Once Lord Guo Fenyang recovers Guan and Luo, his army can march straight in and annihilate him!”

Li Fuguo added with a sinister, venomous tone, “Your Majesty might appoint a special imperial envoy to Jiangnan to mobilize troops and deliver your command. Though unworthy, I am willing to devote my heart and soul to share Your Majesty’s burdens and resolve your difficulties.”

With Li Fuguo’s support, Li Heng finally made up his mind. He rose with resolve, his gaze bright and intense, looking beyond the humble palace, and in a tone bordering on excitement issued his decree once more.

It was simple: Li Fuguo was appointed imperial envoy to Jiangnan, to command Yang Qi’s forces to cross the river and suppress the rebellion. Naturally, the edict appointing Kong Sheng would also be announced by Li Fuguo at that time.

Li Mi and Du Hongjian exchanged a swift glance, their gloomy eyes fixed on Li Fuguo’s sly, smiling face. Both men were shrewd and astute; how could they fail to see through Li Fuguo’s scheme?

His willingness to take on this task and go to Jiangnan was a pretense of concern for the emperor, but in truth, he sought to leave the bitter, cold Lingwu for the pleasures and opportunities of prosperous Jiangnan. Moreover, he aimed to emulate Yu Chaoyan, the influential eunuch supervising Guo Ziyi’s army, hoping to “temper” himself among the troops and lay the foundation for greater political ambitions.

That very day, Li Fuguo bade farewell to the emperor, taking a handful of attendants and dozens of guards, and left Lingwu by carriage for Jiangnan. He put on quite a performance—kneeling before the emperor in tears, repeatedly urging His Majesty to take care of his health in his absence. So moved was Li Heng that he shed a couple of tears and, overcome with emotion, bestowed upon Li Fuguo a golden token and an imperial sword.

In truth, these were mere symbols of imperial authority—props for appearances. In this era of chaotic armies and the waning power of the throne, they might not be so effective. But for Li Fuguo, who excelled at wielding influence and borrowing authority, they were of great significance.

After leaving Lingwu, Li Fuguo, knowing he was traveling in troubled times and that rebel armies raged everywhere, dared not be careless. To protect his life and fulfill his task, he traveled cautiously by night and day, skirting the edges of enemy territory in Hedong and avoiding the heartland, planning to enter Jiangnan from Shannan.

This was, indeed, a wise choice. Though it added hundreds of miles to his journey, it was by far the safest route. Had he encountered the rebel troops, even stray detachments, his party would surely have faced disaster.

On the road, Li Fuguo learned that An Lushan was mobilizing forces, dispatching Shi Siming and Cai Xide with a hundred thousand troops to attack Taiyuan. This news left him sweating in fear. If the rebel army captured Taiyuan, they could seize Lingwu via the northern route and crush Li Heng’s fledgling court. Should Li Heng fall, Li Fuguo’s own bright future as a favored eunuch would vanish.

Fortunately, Taiyuan was defended by the renowned general Li Guangbi. Li Guangbi and Guo Ziyi were Li Heng’s most trusted commanders after his ascension. Li Guangbi was appointed Minister of Revenue and co-chief of the Secretariat, as well as governor of Taiyuan in the northern capital. Two months earlier, he had led five thousand troops from Lingwu to Taiyuan, bearing the weighty mission of the new dynasty.

But no matter how capable Li Guangbi was, he might not withstand the overwhelming force of the rebels. If Taiyuan fell, Guo Ziyi’s successes along Hedong and Guanluo would be meaningless, for An Lushan would open the “rear passage,” and the rebel tide from Taiyuan would threaten to overturn the entire situation.

For a eunuch, Li Fuguo’s insight was remarkable. Yet he had no power to influence the course of the war; he could only quicken his pace to Jiangnan, his heart uneasy and anxious.

All else was empty words; survival was paramount. Li Fuguo resolved, once he reached Jiangnan, not to hurry back and report. He would first observe the situation before deciding his next move. If Li Guangbi held Taiyuan, all would be well; if Taiyuan fell, he need not return to Lingwu, but would remain in Jiangnan to safeguard his life.

Lingwu City.

Autumn arrived early on the western frontier. In the afternoon, the bleak autumn wind swept over Lingwu, and as the gates of the temporary imperial residence—the Lingwu Governor’s Mansion—swung open, two chestnut horses emerged carrying two young women, followed by several dozen palace guards with solemn faces and swords at their waists.

The elder woman, about twenty-five or twenty-six, wore her hair in the style of noble married women and draped herself in a dark fur cloak, her brows tinged with gentle sorrow. The younger, just past twenty, had delicate features, was dressed in riding attire, and held a whip in her hand, her whole demeanor radiating spirited, martial resolve.

These were Li Heng’s daughters: the elder, Princess Ningguo, and the younger, Princess Jiguo.

“Second sister, I hear Father has ennobled a young scholar named Kong Sheng, and Li Fuguo has already been gone several days to summon troops in Jiangnan,” Princess Jiguo said with a smile, twirling her riding whip.

Princess Ningguo smiled reservedly. “Fifth sister, lately the city has been abuzz with verses composed by Kong Sheng. My favorite is the Song of Everlasting Sorrow—so grand and yet so poignant, full of tragic beauty. The young man is truly brilliant, astonishingly talented.”

“Second sister, that boy is rather bold, too—he dared to comment on our grandfather’s palace! I don’t care for those decadent, ornate poems, but I do like his ‘Red River Rhapsody’—it shows ambition and backbone, though perhaps he is just a boaster. If I meet him one day, I’ll ask him to his face: what skill does he possess to claim ‘Return to reclaim the lost land, ascend to the palace of heaven’?” Princess Jiguo’s words held a hint of mockery as she flicked her whip, producing a crisp sound.

Princess Ningguo laughed softly. “Fifth sister, don’t be so dismissive. In troubled times, heroes emerge. How do you know he isn’t truly a young hero?”

“And you shouldn’t be so proud, looking down on everyone… You’re not exactly young anymore, and still unmarried—surely that’s not right.” Princess Ningguo added.

Princess Jiguo snorted. “Second sister, if I can’t find a worthy husband, I would rather stay single. Father has agreed to it. But you—since Zheng Xun died early, you can’t remain widowed forever. Father should help you choose another consort.”

At her words, Princess Ningguo lowered her head in sorrow and said nothing more.

Princess Jiguo, realizing she had touched a sore spot, felt embarrassed. Blushing, she leaned forward on her horse to whisper an apology, coaxing her sister until a smile returned to Ningguo’s face. The two then rode side by side out of the city, heading off for a hunt.