Chapter 88:
Manifestations from the Grave
IT WAS A LONG RIDE out to the Zhao Mausoleum—when Hongjun and Lu Xu had gone the first time, they had spent over an hour on travel alone. When dawn broke, Li Jinglong still hadn’t returned. Hongjun tossed and turned in his bed, plagued by a strange and confusing dream. It wasn’t until the sun had climbed high in the sky that he was awakened by the sound of rapid hoofbeats and shouts coming from the back alley.
He stepped out of his room to find Mergen sitting before a mirror with his robes shrugged off one shoulder, reapplying medicine to the claw marks on his arm. Noting Hongjun’s confused expression, he said, “Sounds like some sort of royal inspection tour. Shall we go take a look?”
The sky was overcast today, yet practically the entire city seemed to be out on the streets. Nearly all the imperial princes had turned out, though there was no sign of Li Longji or Noble Consort Yang. Rows of imperial guards solemnly flanked the streets, preventing commoners from blocking the way as Li Heng galloped past astride a piebald horse with a crenelated mane, the rest of the imperial princes kicking up dust behind him.
Mergen and Hongjun dismounted and followed the procession to the city gates. They were standing among the curious onlookers when they spotted someone waving to them in the distance. Squinting, Hongjun recognized Li Jinglong’s elder cousin, Feng Changqing.
The pair hurried over to greet him. Upon learning that Li Jinglong had yet to return from his work on a case outside the city, Feng Changqing invited them to stand with him to watch the procession.
A man beside Feng Changqing nodded in greeting. He seemed familiar, though for a moment, Hongjun couldn’t quite put a name to his face. The man smiled. “We met that night in Pingkang Ward, remember?”
“Li Guinian!” Mergen exclaimed as the memory surfaced.
The famed pipa player was elegantly dressed. He was middle-aged, perhaps a bit younger than Feng Changqing. Li Guinian seemed to be in a sunny mood, but Feng Changqing said coldly, “You boys were fooling around in Pingkang Ward again!”
“They’re young,” Li Guinian said. “It’s understandable.”
“What’s going on?” Hongjun asked, peering toward the gates.
“Ya Rox-er came back, just as expected,” Li Guinian explained.
From outside the city, there came the crash of a gong followed by the blare of bugle horns. The crowd parted for a massive procession. Two columns of extravagantly armored guards passed through the gates to take their places along both sides of the road.
Feng Changqing scoffed. “Such a great fuss.”
“Chancellor Yang bet he wouldn’t come,” Li Guinian said with a small smile. “But since he has, of course he wants to make a grand entrance.”
Feng Changqing coughed, warning Li Guinian to hold his tongue; they were, after all, in the presence of two members of the Department of Exorcism.
“Who’s Ya Rox-er?” Hongjun asked.
“Ya Rox-er is Ya Roxshan,” Li Guinian said placidly. “Roxshan—that’s Sogdian for Lushan—is the name of the Zoroastrian god of light.”
Mergen glanced at Li Guinian, sensing something strange about these words, but Li Guinian merely smiled.
The gong crashed three times, and a vanguard bearing ceremonial weaponry entered. Unlike the black, red, and gray armor worn by the imperial guard, this unit’s armor was constructed of brown and black leather and steel plates. Following the soldiers was a massive sedan chair carried by no less than sixteen men, upon which sat a prodigiously large man.
In all his years, Hongjun had never seen a man of such size before; he exclaimed in astonishment. The people cheered, welcoming this larger-than-life figure into the city. Feng Changqing said, “An Lushan’s gotten fatter.”
“Why is he so…so…” Mergen struggled for a time, but couldn’t find an adequate descriptor.
An Lushan—Hongjun thought he recognized this name, though he couldn’t recall where he’d heard it. Li Guinian explained that not only was this man the military governor of Hedong and Fanyang—and thus the most powerful military official of Great Tang—but he was also Yang Yuhuan’s godson.
Until this moment, Hongjun had considered Li Jinglong quite tall, and deemed the ghost king unusually burly. The sight of An Lushan completely shattered his perception of humans. Only one question echoed through his mind: What on earth did this man eat to grow to such a size?
An Lushan was sitting, yet even in this position, Hongjun could see that his legs were as sturdy as an elephant’s. Sheathed in his red sleeves, the considerable bulk of his arms resembled red-lacquered pillars, and his body was wide as the arched door of a fortress. Atop his thick neck sat a head as large and round as a water tank, and his fierce features were dotted with cinnabar, indigo, and other dyes. The longevity lock he wore on a chain around his neck trembled with each heave of his great chest; the bumpy journey had apparently left him gasping for breath.
Upon seeing the imperial princes, An Lushan let out a booming laugh. “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble, coming all this way to welcome me,” he said in an unexpectedly lively voice.
“Father awaits you in the palace,” Li Heng replied. “May I suggest you meet with him first?”
“All right, all right!” An Lushan said. He waved magnanimously at the spectators flanking the road as his sedan bearers conveyed him down Imperial Street. Four heavyset warriors followed in his wake, casting money into the crowd with a flurry of bright clinks. Behind them, more guards tossed baskets full of cash toward the commoners lining both sides of the road.
The streets filled with the ringing of coins, and the people cheered. Hundreds of square-holed bronze coins glinted as they rolled across the ground, nearly inciting a brawl. The imperial guard shouted for the crowd to stop pushing as they struggled to maintain order, and Feng Changqing and Li Guinian were nearly shoved into the path of the procession.
Hongjun was about to cry out when a steadying arm looped around his waist before swiftly letting go again. Li Jinglong had materialized from who knew where, covered in the dust of the road. Together, they gazed down Imperial Street, where the cheering crowd of common folk squeezed together in a teeming mass of bodies.
Beckoning Hongjun and Mergen to follow, Li Jinglong led them after An Lushan with quick strides. Hongjun glanced back and was surprised to see A-Tai, Ashina Adarvan, and the others had all arrived as well. Qiu Yongsi, towering over the crowd, stared after the convoy, his brow knit in a deep frown, before casting a spiritual technique with a twist of his fingers.
The last of the four burly warriors turned back, eyes searching the crowd.
Cursing under his breath, Li Jinglong gestured sharply at Qiu Yongsi, who promptly feigned bending down to retrieve a coin as the warrior turned to face the front once more. Everyone froze in place, no longer daring to follow the procession. Hongjun stood flabbergasted. By the time he turned to speak to Li Jinglong, the convoy was already vanishing into the distance.
After going all night without sleep, Li Jinglong was clearly on edge. With a wave of the hand, he ordered everyone back to headquarters.
A short time later, the group filed into the study of the Department of Exorcism. Before Hongjun could ask, Li Jinglong opened his hands, showing empty palms. “There was nothing there.”
“Could those four warriors accompanying An Lushan be the four yaoguai?” Mergen asked.
Li Jinglong took a seat behind his desk, arms crossed in thoughtful silence.
“They took off northeast last night,” Lu Xu told Hongjun. “That’s the direction An Lushan came from today.”
“Can we really assume the four yaoguai are with An Lushan based on that alone?” Hongjun asked.
“It’s just a guess,” A-Tai said. “But the timing of the yaoguai’s appearance is suspicious. If the break-ins at the imperial mausoleums happened after An Lushan returned to Chang’an, there would be a greater chance of him being implicated in this case.”
“Mm.” Mergen nodded. “So instead, maybe An Lushan sent the yaoguai ahead and entered the capital only after the attacks, leaving his army waiting outside Chang’an while he coordinates with the four yao—that would make a lot of sense.”
“Not necessarily,” Ashina Adarvan interjected. “What if that fatty doesn’t know anything about the yaoguai hanging around him?”
Qiu Yongsi was last to hurry into the study. “I tried testing the waters just now. Sure enough, they took the bait,” he chuckled, shutting the door behind him.
As it turned out, Qiu Yongsi had deliberately used a spiritual technique when An Lushan had passed close to them in the crowd. The power from his technique had immediately alerted the last of the four warriors in the convoy.
“Did you get a good look at his face?” Mergen asked.
Qiu Yongsi shrugged, spreading his hands. “More like he got a good look at mine.”
Everyone clapped a hand to their forehead.