Chapter 161: City Gate Guard

The city guards of Chang'an had just finished changing shifts at dawn when they saw a long line of cavalry and carriages approaching from afar outside the city; they quickly straightened up and perked up.

With Prince Guangling's wedding approaching and the Emperor's birthday celebration next month bringing dignitaries from all nations, major events piled up, and in recent days many princes and dukes have entered the capital early.

But who knows whose prince this is early this morning? They don't realize that private troops aren't allowed into Chang'an and must be stationed outside the city near the Western Great Camp; only when the troops leave can they be taken away.

The guards on the city wall glanced at the troop's length and estimated it to be only two or three hundred.

Tsk, who knows which fallen prince, passed down for several generations… No, maybe he's no longer a prince; perhaps he's been demoted to a duke.

Because this number is truly pitiful.

Not long ago, Prince Jiangxia returned to the capital with a retinue so vast its end couldn't be seen, numbering over a thousand; compared to that, this group looks rather shabby.

If the prince heard this evaluation, he'd jump up and curse: how dare you compare the bitter cold of Youzhou to the land of fish and rice, Jiangxia Commandery? Has your conscience been eaten by dogs?

Of course, the one lacking conscience most is his father. Look at his grandfather—he knew to find a good fief for his son, and his uncles' territories weren't bad either; but look at his father—his father is worse than his father, to be thrown away.

After a moment, the prince's entourage drew near; Wei Shen had already swapped into black armor and blended with the Xiaoqi cavalry outside, leaving only the prince, his face painted with gaudy colors, sitting on his carriage.

As the troupe drew closer, the guards finally made out who they were, and the city gate fell into an uproar for a while.

What is that? A group of Rakshasa strides forward in the morning light!

"Quick! Go inform Commandant Zhang!"

"Jingzhao Prefecture! Report to Jingzhao Prefecture!"

What kind of appearance is this group?! Like they just stepped off a battlefield?

Their black armor and faces are streaked with dried blood, making them look like a squad of blood-soaked Rakshasa closing in, fierce and chilling.

As the prince's entourage approached, the early-morning crowds queuing at the city gate to enter fled, and people automatically made way wherever they passed.

What's going on? Is this a rebel army or a foreign invasion?

Why haven't we heard a word about this?

The prince watched helplessly as an old man carrying a live chicken to sell in the city dropped his pole and bolted, the chicken tumbling to the roadside and flopping wildly, feathers flying everywhere……

The prince: ……Is it really that frightening?

Seeing a light tuft of fluff flying toward his carriage, the prince calmly reached out, caught it, messed up his still-presentable hairstyle to make a gap, and stuck that tuft in…!

Wei Shen, riding beside the carriage: ……

When they neared the gate, the guards readied for battle. Though they didn't shut the gate outright—since the force seemed small—the entrance was now packed with fully armed city guards.

The Xiaoqi cavalry at the front announced the prince's name, and only then did the guards relax.

Still, they didn't grant passage; the gate guards insisted that feudal lords' private troops may not enter Chang'an. "With troops looking like this, you claim to be the prince's men?" they said. "If we let these Rakshasa in and they turn out not to be, our heads would be just as unsafe."

With swords drawn and bows taut, nobody yielded; the prince's carriage pushed through the crowd straight to the front, where he stepped out, wearing his weathered look, dragging the Prince You's sword, and stood before the carriage.

He pulled a youthful face, expressionless, raised his sword at the guards blocking the way, and shouted, "Make way for me! Is this Chang'an still my father's Chang'an? How dare anyone block the prince's path?"

Commandant Zhang glanced at the sword symbolizing the prince's identity, then at the age of the sword-wielding child; it matched, though he looked rather disheveled.

He dropped to one knee and paid his respects: "City Gate Commandant Zhang Cheng greets Prince You; may Your Highness enjoy everlasting happiness!"

The prince: "I can't be happy! Move aside—I must enter the palace at once to see my father!"

Zhang Cheng showed a troubled expression: "Your Highness may enter, and your attendants may too, but these personal guards are not allowed into Chang'an; they will be stationed together outside the Western Great Camp, and you can take them back when you leave the capital. You don't need that many guards in Chang'an."

The prince snapped, face grim: "Get lost! It's only two hundred—all my personal attendants! As a feudal lord, am I not entitled to have two hundred servants with me? Do other feudal lords bring only a few people into the capital? Do they all enter bare-assed like me?"

Actually, there's no clear regulation on how many attendants may be brought into the city.

So far the only prince who has arrived is Prince Jiangxia; his private troops stayed outside, but his personal attendants also entered, numbering about one or two hundred.

In short, Commandant Zhang felt the prince wasn't worth turning a blind eye for this courtesy. The troops you, Prince You, have brought really don't look like servants—a band of blood-soaked Rakshasa; letting them in would leave him unable to explain anything if trouble arose.

The old slick Zhang Cheng apologized politely, but still refused to let them through.

"I brought a thousand personal guards from Youzhou, but along the way we were ambushed and now only two hundred remain upon reaching Chang'an. Is a force of two hundred even considered an army? Commandant Zhang, are you bullying me because my fief is remote and barren? Is the one seated in Jianzhang Palace still my father? How dare you not value the prince!" The prince's voice grew louder; as the guards knelt in greeting, the townsfolk who had stopped fleeing gathered around to watch, and his words were like a dagger.

Upon hearing this, Zhang Cheng dared not bear it; he immediately dropped to both knees begging for mercy, playing the oppressed little city guard bullied by feudal lords to perfection.

Seeing that the other side wanted to play the victim to the end and refused to grant this concession, the prince finally grew truly angry.

In the tangled, intricate Chang'an City, this Prince You simply isn't enough to be taken seriously.

The prince said no more; with a clang he threw down the Prince You's sword, seized the Sun-shooting Bow, and aimed it at Zhang Cheng.

He spoke in a light, laughing tone: "As a prince of a state, if I shoot you dead today, at worst my father will scold me a couple of times for arrogance. But you—will you come back to life?"

Zhang Cheng's pupils contracted; he snapped his head up at the child who steadied the bow with a curled lip… this is no child!

He is the Lord of Youzhou, his maternal clan controls the Southwest Army; killing a lowly commandant like him, the emperor could rebuke the prince two lines for his life, and that would already count as his ancestors burning high incense.

Who isn't afraid of death?

"Respectfully, respectfully welcome the Prince You back to the capital!"

"Hmph!"

The guards stepped aside; the Xiaoqi cavalry formed up and entered the gate, and the prince seated himself back in his carriage.

The prince patted his rear and left; the townsfolk outside the city, after they departed, began heatedly discussing him.

"How did the Prince You end up so miserable? Isn't he the emperor's son?"

"A reeking smell of blood rises to the sky—how many must have died? It's frightened my legs into weakness……"

"Covered in blood, each on tall horses, faces grim, they scared people to death like evil spirits……"

"Just escaped death—who could laugh after losing so many comrades?"

"Haven't heard anything about an assassination? We don't understand the affairs of nobles……"

"The personal guards we brought out started at a thousand, now down to two hundred—this whole journey……"

"You don't know, the northern borders are in chaos!"

"He's just a younger son—why kill him? There are still several older ones……"

"Shhh! You don't even want to live anymore, daring to say anything!"