Chapter 57: White Silk Severing Love

The entire post station was deathly silent.

Everyone's gaze was focused on Li Longji and Yang Guifei.

One was the emperor, the Son of Heaven; the other was the beloved consort who reigned supreme over the harem.

Their love had once been the most enviable legend throughout the Tang Dynasty.

"When clouds think of robes and flowers of beauty, the spring breeze brushes the rail, and the dew is thick."

The poem Li Bai wrote for them is still being sung to this day.

But now, this timeless love has come to its cruelest end.

"Beloved consort..."

Li Longji reached out, wanting to touch his beloved's cheek, but found his own hand trembling violently.

His voice was hoarse beyond bearing.

"Your Majesty..."

Yang Guifei wept tears like rain, throwing herself at Li Longji's feet and clutching his legs desperately.

"Your Majesty, I don't want to die... I don't want to die..."

She wept with a beauty that made one's heart ache.

Any man who saw this scene would surely feel reluctant to harm her.

But outside, the shouts of the thousands of soldiers were like death drums, each louder than the last.

"Kill Yang Guifei!"

"Kill Yang Guifei!"

Li Longji closed his eyes, and two streams of murky old tears slowly slid from the corners of his eyes.

He knew he could not protect her.

If he insisted on protecting her, the one who would die next would be himself.

Since ancient times, emperors have been prone to indifference.

Between the realm and the beauty, he ultimately chose the former.

At that moment, the ever-silent Gao Lishi stepped forward.

He bowed deeply to Li Longji.

"Your Majesty, things have come to this; we can no longer hesitate. For the sake of the state, we must wrong the consort."

His voice remained as calm and steady as ever.

It seemed he was not urging the emperor to kill his beloved consort, but merely stating a trivial matter.

He walked up to Yang Guifei, bent down, and in a voice only the two could hear, said softly: "Consort, you are a wise woman. If you leave on your own, you can still preserve some dignity. If you wait for those rough rebels to rush in... the consequences would be unthinkable."

Yang Guifei's sobbing ceased abruptly.

Her body stiffened suddenly.

She lifted her head, gazing at Gao Lishi's calm, expressionless face, her eyes filled with endless fear.

She understood.

Gao Lishi was not advising her; he was threatening her.

She knew that if she did not maintain her dignity, what awaited her would be a humiliation worse than death.

She slowly loosened her grip on Li Longji's hand.

She rose to her feet and wiped the tears from her face.

She gave one last look to the man she had loved all her life.

His face showed only pain and evasion.

Yang Guifei's heart died completely.

She turned and calmly said to Gao Lishi, "Father, please lead the way."

Her voice held no fear, no pleading, only a deathly calm.

Gao Lishi nodded, a flicker of surprise crossing his eyes; he had not expected Yang Guifei to be persuaded so easily.

Thus, he turned his gaze to Chen Xuanli.

Chen Xuanli understood at once, waved his hand, and had the soldiers blocking the door step aside to clear a path.

Gao Lishi personally guided Yang Guifei out of the room, heading toward a small Buddhist hall in the rear courtyard of the post station.

There, everything had already been prepared.

A three-foot length of white silk hung silently from the beam of the hall.

Wang Hui (Wang Xiu) stood in the distant crowd, witnessing all of this.

He knew this was history, and no one could alter its course; before the tide of history, he felt utterly insignificant.

This was Yang Guifei's inevitable fate.

Yet, seeing this scene with his own eyes, he still felt an indescribable suffocation; he did not want himself, nor did he want the Wang family to be overturned by the tide of history.

Watching Yang Guifei's stunning yet desolate figure disappear at the doorway of the Buddhist hall,

he saw Gao Lishi's calm face, and Li Longji's pained, helpless yet cowardly and selfish appearance.

Is this what imperial love amounts to?

Is this the elegy of a prosperous age?

Truly... pitiful, laughable.

Not long after, Gao Lishi emerged alone from the Buddhist hall.

He walked up to Li Longji, knelt again, and spoke with a heavy voice.

"Your Majesty, the consort... has departed."

Li Longji's body shuddered violently, his whole person seeming to have been drained of all vigor, and he collapsed onto the chair.

He said nothing, merely waving his hand to signal everyone to retreat.

Chen Xuanli, seeing this, immediately turned around and loudly announced to the soldiers outside: "The seductive concubine has been eliminated! By His Majesty's order, the entire army will set out at once for Shu Region!"

The soldiers burst into a thunderous cheer.

They finally achieved their goal.

A mutiny capable of overturning the Tang Dynasty ended in this brutal and absurd manner.

The troop resumed its march.

But the atmosphere became even more eerie than before.

The emperor became a mute living corpse, each day merely sitting dazedly in the carriage, eating and drinking nothing.

The once mighty Yang clan members either died or fled, scattering like birds and beasts.

The actual controller of the troop had become Chen Xuanli and Gao Lishi.

Wang Hui (Wang Xiu) silently followed behind the troop, his heart filled with mixed feelings.

He knew that the Mawei Slope mutiny was not merely the tragedy of Yang Guifei alone.

At the same time, it was also a sign.

It signified that Emperor Li Longji had completely lost control of the army and the last shred of his dignity as a sovereign.

Midway through the journey, Crown Prince Li Heng, surrounded by a few trusted aides, parted ways with Li Longji.

He did not go to Shu Region but chose to head north, heading for Lingwu.

There he intended to ascend the throne, organize troops, and resist the rebel forces.

Upon hearing this news, Li Longji merely gave a bitter smile and did not stop him.

He knew that this son of his possessed greater decisiveness than he did.

The future of the Tang Dynasty was no longer in his hands; perhaps it truly needed Li Heng to save it.

Wang Hui (Wang Xiu) watched the crown prince's northbound silhouette, his heart stirred.

He knew that, judging by the course of history, following Crown Prince Li Heng was the correct choice.

Li Heng was the future Emperor Suzong; he would become the supreme commander who quelled the An-Shi Rebellion.

Following him meant inheriting the dragon's merit.

Wang Hui (Wang Xiu) hesitated.

He glanced at the carriage carrying Li Longji, lifeless and gloomy.

He recalled the family rule he had set back then.

"Do not involve oneself in the succession, do not vie for the great treasure."

The crown prince's northern march to ascend the throne was in itself a huge political gamble.

If victorious, it would surely bring boundless wealth and honor.

But what if he lost?

An Lushan's rebel forces remained powerful.

Who dares to guarantee that Li Heng will surely win?

No one can guarantee that history will proceed exactly as he knows it.

Wang Xiu dared not gamble.

The Wang family's foundation was still shallow; he needed stability.

In the end, he still chose to continue following Li Longji, this now powerless retired emperor, to Shu Region.

This seemed like a dead‑end road with no future.

But Wang Xiu knew that this was also the safest path.

Not taking sides, not seeking merit, staying away from the center of political turmoil.

This is the Wang family's best way to survive in chaotic times.

All he needed to do was wait quietly.

Waiting for true generals like Guo Ziyi and Li Guangbi to step onto the historical stage.

Waiting for this war to subside.