Chapter 110: Mourning Hall

Logically, after entering Wang Cheng, the envoy delegation should rest for a period.

This period is not truly determined by how much rest the envoy delegation needs, but by when the monarch has the intention and time to receive them.

But today, as soon as the second Tang envoy delegation entered the city, the Nanzhao monarch had already issued an edict ordering officials to prepare for their audience in the royal palace.

Inside the palace city, the shadow of the sundial had shifted by one shichen.

The warm audience in the royal hall had already concluded; most of the envoys granted the imperial banquet had returned to the guesthouse to rest.

Yet several individuals from the earlier envoy delegation had not attended the banquet, and now slowly entered the palace.

“Left Division Commander of the Tang Imperial Guard, Guan Changling, pays homage to the King of Nanzhao.”

Guan Changling was in his forties or fifties, with a slightly rounded facial structure, smiling lines around his eyes, plump cheeks, and neatly trimmed beard.

His black gauze cap, purple robe adorned with auspicious beast patterns, and golden jade belt gave him an air of solemnity beneath his genial demeanor.

After bowing deeply, Guan Changling got straight to the point.

“I have personally inspected the bodies of the previous Tang envoys—indeed, all bear clear signs of Tibetan involvement.”

“We are willing to believe this is an attempt by the Tibetans to sow discord between Nanzhao and Tang.”

Yi Mouxun’s expression softened slightly, and he smiled: “I also believe our two nations’ alliance will not be easily shaken by such a deceitful frame-up.”

“Your Majesty’s judgment is wise.”

Guan Changling still bowed, his face showing sorrow: “Since we have already examined the bodies of the previous envoys, I humbly request that the King of Nanzhao dispatch officials to prepare their remains with proper dignity.”

“Remove their old garments, dress them in new robes, and set up a mourning hall here in Nanzhao. Later, we will return their clothing and personal effects to Tang, where we will build memorial tombs for them.”

Nanzhao’s climate is humid and hot.

Although the bodies, upon arrival in Wang Cheng, had been placed in underground cellars with large quantities of ice to slow decomposition,

it remains unlikely they could be transported back to Tang in good condition.

Since Tang has already examined the bodies, they should be buried promptly, to rest in peace.

Nanzhao building the grave, Tang building the memorial tomb—this is a sound proposal.

Yi Mouxun immediately agreed.

“Since the matter is now clear, there is no need to conceal the news further. The mourning hall shall be set up in the Nanzhao Protector Temple. I shall issue a direct order: everything must be completed as swiftly as possible.”

Guan Changling voiced his thanks loudly.

The bodies were severely damaged, their deaths gruesome, but with the King of Nanzhao’s personal order, all funeral artisans in the city were summoned to sew the corpses shut and restore their appearance.

Some bodies required paper-mâché craftsmen to substitute bamboo skeletons, boil pigskin for glue, and reconstruct their forms before dressing them in robes.

By nightfall, the remains were fully prepared and transported one by one to the Protector Temple southwest of Wang Cheng.

The Nanzhao Protector Temple, upon entering the gate, featured three main halls along its central axis: the Dharma Protector Hall, the Maitreya Hall, and the Mahavira Hall.

Between the three halls lay broad courtyards, while surrounding them were ancestral halls, bell towers, drum towers, stele forests, the Arhat Hall, and the Incense-Seeking Hall.

The main mourning hall was set up in the Maitreya Hall and the courtyard before it.

Yet to show solemnity, white banners were raised everywhere throughout the vast temple complex.

The next day, hundreds of white banners fluttered in the wind as monks performed rituals.

Some rang bells and chanted sutras, others beat wooden fish, and still others held bowls of nectar and willow branches, sprinkling water in all directions.

Because the King of Nanzhao had personally sent representatives to pay respects, Zheng Hui came again, and many Tang officials serving in Nanzhao came to burn incense.

If even Tang officials serving in Nanzhao had come, how much more so the Tang envoys themselves?

Someone asked whether Hai Donglai, who was recently in Wang Cheng, would come to pay respects.

The envoy delegation replied: as fellow Tang subjects, if Lord Hai received the news, he would certainly come to burn incense for the fallen.

Today was the fourteenth of March.

News of the mourning hall at the Protector Temple spread with astonishing speed, inevitably linking the setup to tomorrow’s duel.

Many believed this was deliberately orchestrated by the envoy delegation.

To secure for Hai Donglai the advantage of righteous grief, and to claim moral high ground.

The Blood Refining Art is intimately tied to one’s emotional state.

Among the highest-level masters, besides raw power, seizing the momentum is crucial.

When Hai Donglai challenged the duel by attacking the Yi Prince’s mansion, many thought he had acted arrogantly, playing a foolish move.

His brutal strike gave the target ample time to recover, allowing Yi Wang to channel his grief and rage into an even fiercer momentum.

Now it appeared the Tang envoy delegation sought to correct this disadvantage for Hai Donglai.

But this was merely the view of outsiders.

Outsiders did not know that within the Imperial Guard’s upper echelons lurked a treacherous figure.

For the few who knew, the envoy delegation’s obvious attempt to lure Hai Donglai to the mourning hall was deeply suspicious.

“Among the envoy delegation is Guan Changling, Left Division Commander of the Imperial Guard.”

At dusk, Zheng Hui said in the Locust Courtyard: “Given this, the conspirator among the Imperial Guard’s high ranks is almost certainly Guan Changling.”

The Imperial Guard’s structure was vast and complex; even if outsiders knew something was amiss, suspects were too numerous.

But for a commander like Hai Donglai, only two men were truly suspect.

Either the Left Division Commander, or the overall commander.

Left Division Commander Guan Changling had joined the Imperial Guard as a swordsman, earned many merits, and risen steadily through the ranks.

The overall commander, however, was regarded by the Emperor as a true confidant, holding the dual post of Wing Guard Lieutenant General.

Only one of these two could be the traitor—if both were, the Imperial Guard would have collapsed long before today.

Hai Donglai had always suspected Guan Changling more.

Now, the answer was clear.

“Hah!”

Chu Tianshu, today resting with his left index finger pressed to the ground, laughed, broke his cultivation posture, and sat cross-legged on the floor.

“I can guess what they’re thinking.”

“If Lord Hai goes, he’ll face a coordinated ambush by Duan Zhong and his allies.”

“They’ll ensure you cannot show up for tomorrow’s duel—Duan Zhong wins without fighting. Even if you escape and still dare to appear, your condition won’t match his.”

Zheng Hui nodded: “They likely assume Lord Hai is merely formidable in martial skill, underestimating his intellect.”

“Since Guan Changling’s treachery has been exposed, Lord Hai will not go.”

Hai Donglai stood by the wall, holding his red-cloud black umbrella, expression icy.

He had been reciting the character “kill” for Chu Tianshu.

When Zheng Hui arrived, he and Cheng the Blind had stopped.

But after Cheng the Blind stopped, he pulled out a small bottle of wine from the food box, drank to moisten his throat.

After Hai Donglai stopped speaking, he remained motionless, yet his killing intent grew heavier.

The soldier-soul sensed his killing intent, causing the red blotch on the umbrella to swell like a relentless, unwilling cloud.

It surged, deepened in red, then shrank, faded.

Again and again, the red grew darker.

“Using the mourning hall of Tang envoys to set a trap… Guan Changling, Guan Changling!”

Hai Donglai suddenly spoke: “If I don’t go, will those scheming bastards calmly spend the entire night beside the memorial hall of the dead?”

Zheng Hui was startled: “This…”

“Old Zheng, think—given their style, if they fail to ambush you today, they’ll surely cause chaos during tomorrow’s duel.”

“We cannot assume that once we expose the traitor, everything will proceed as planned: first fight at Cuiyan, then dismantle their reputation, then let you slowly mobilize troops to respond.”

Chu Tianshu stood up: “They’re willing to ambush at the mourning hall.”

“Then tonight, we’ll spill their blood in that hall—to honor the fallen!”

Chu Tianshu recalled the battlefield.

The place where the entire Tang envoy delegation had perished.

Whether civil or military, all those who came to Nanzhao to reclaim lost lands had died fighting.

To honor such men with only a mourning hall is insufficient.

Only the blood of the traitors is fitting as sacrifice!

“It’s been a long time since I used blood in wine to honor fallen comrades.”

Cheng the Blind shook his bottle: “These envoys deserve this tribute—I count myself among them.”

Zheng Hui was resolute: “Fine. I’ll mobilize my guards to join.”

Chu Tianshu hesitated, murmured: “Your guards… they’d only add unnecessary casualties.”

“Then surely this old man still has some use.”

Zheng Hui glanced at the locust tree, then looked away and declared firmly: “If this fails, I cannot escape Duan Zhong’s reckoning later. Better to fight now than wait idle until my hair turns white.”

Cheng the Blind asked: “When do we move?”

“Now that it’s come to this, of course…”

Chu Tianshu tilted his head back, interlocked his fingers, pressed his palms forward, his expression thoughtful.

“Let’s have dinner first.”

“Old Zheng knows the Protector Temple best—he went there today. Tell us the temple’s exact layout.”

(End of Chapter)