Chapter Ten: Summoned to the Capital

Youzhou, beyond the frontier, in the heart of winter—snowflakes fell in wild flurries, while the biting wind swept relentlessly across the land. Travelers hurried along the road, necks hunched and collars pulled tight against the cold, the air swollen everywhere with chill and dryness.

At dawn, as the sky began to lighten, a pale blue expanse studded with the remnants of a few stars, the earth was shrouded in a silvery haze. From the distance, the crisp sound of hooves approached. In the faint morning light, the city guards could clearly see that the procession escorted a messenger. The emissary carried a golden command staff adorned with banners: two gate flags, one dragon-tiger banner, one staff, two halberds, and two leopard tails, eight items in all. The staff was crafted from gilded bronze leaves, the flags sewn from nine panels of red silk, fixed with gilded, platter-shaped bronze dragon heads. When a Han envoy traveled, anyone who dared obstruct him was to be executed; disrespect was met with death as well, for the messenger represented the emperor himself.

Understanding the gravity of the situation, the city guards dared not delay—they lowered the drawbridge and opened the gates. A matter so serious, even the slightest misstep could cost them their heads. Bowing in reverence, they welcomed the imperial envoy, watching as he rode swiftly toward the prefect’s residence. Among the onlookers, murmurs rose: What has happened? What urgent matter is at hand?

Not long after, thunderous drums of assembly echoed from the grand barracks beside the prefect’s residence. Troops gathered in orderly ranks, all clad in armor, marching in formation toward the barracks. Shouts mingled with the neighing of horses, the muster resounding like a mountain; more and more soldiers streamed in, shoulder to shoulder, from the barracks’ entrance. Years of rigorous training had forged the army into a force that moved like a forest when slow, like fire when fierce, unmoving as a mountain, inscrutable as darkness, and swift as thunder.

The Black Cavalry was especially striking, each rider clad in armor assembled from iron plates; their waists cinched with golden beast-face belts, front and back protected by bronze heart mirrors—stalwart men of steel, skilled in martial arts.

Today, the drill platform stood more solemn than ever; the cold wind swept through in silence. Imperial banners fluttered everywhere. Dressed in black and yellow, the high-ranking eunuch held the imperial edict wrapped in yellow silk, surrounded by personal guards wielding great swords.

A shrill, piercing voice rang out:

“Summon the prefect of Youzhou, Liu Yan!

“Summon the marshal of Youzhou, Tiger General Wu Zifan, to receive the edict!”

Long live the Emperor, ten thousand years!

“I, Liu Yan, prefect of Youzhou…”

“I, Tiger General and marshal of Youzhou, Wu Zifan, receive the edict.” Three drumbeats sounded. “May the Emperor be ever blessed; I, Wu Zifan, lead my troops to pay respects to His Majesty.” All the soldiers below knelt in salute.

As a man from the modern era, Zifan had knelt only to Heaven and Earth, and to his parents. Now, he must kneel before the imperial decree.

“By mandate of Heaven, the Emperor proclaims: Wu Zifan, prefect of Youzhou, is upright and incorrupt, his governance exemplary; during his tenure, he has reformed the troops and vanquished the Yellow Turban rebels. He is a loyal minister of the Han, diligent and devoted. The court is gratified and hereby rewards him with ten thousand taels of gold and silver, five hundred horses, and twenty thousand taels of silver. As unrest sweeps the realm, the prefect of Youzhou is commanded to enter the capital at once, without delay.”

“Lord Wu, receive the edict.” The high eunuch placed the decree in Zifan’s hands, murmuring, “In this bitter cold, such a journey is not easy. Moreover, the Emperor’s generosity is evident; the grace of His Majesty is boundless. Allow me to congratulate you first, General Wu. Might you have something to express your gratitude?” He rubbed his palms, smiling broadly.

Zifan was taken aback. Guo Jia, standing nearby, smiled and produced a sum of gold. “Thank you for your efforts, sir. Please speak well of us before His Majesty.”

Only then did Zifan realize: this wretched eunuch wanted a bribe. Even this small sum was barely enough for his officers, and yet the eunuch still sought to line his own pockets. No wonder so many soldiers went unpaid each year.

Heh! “Farewell, Lord Wu. See you at the palace.” The eunuch departed, thinking to himself that the trip had not been in vain—this Wu General understood the ways of the court.

Zifan glanced at the imperial edict in his hand. If this were modern times, he would be rich—an antique! He could easily win the favor of several women. But now, what use was it?

“Commander of the Black Cavalry, Ding Feng, step forward.” Edict in hand, Zifan began to issue orders.

“At your service!” Ding Feng, commander of the Black Cavalry, stepped forward and saluted.

“For this journey to the capital, you will lead two thousand Black Cavalry with me. I want the civil and military officials to witness the might of my Black Cavalry…”

“Yes, sir!”

“All other troops will remain in Youzhou. While I am absent, all matters are to be directed by Guo Jia, without error.”

“Yes, sir…”

Ding Feng rode ahead alone.

Protected by the Black Cavalry, the army began their slow march toward Luoyang.

Luoyang in spring is a riot of blossoms,
Ten thousand households beneath red and green shade…

Such is Luoyang! The city, capital of nine dynasties, the birthplace of the Heluo culture, foundation of Confucianism, cradle of Daoism, first site of Buddhism’s transmission, origin of metaphysics, source of Neo-Confucian learning—Luoyang is the wellspring of Chinese civilization and the main cradle of the nation. It was the eastern starting point of the Silk Road during the Eastern Han, Cao Wei, Western Jin, Northern Wei, and Sui-Tang periods.

If the Dragon King does not pass through Luoyang, the city grows truly hot come autumn. Towers soar into the sky, coiling like dragons; fragrant embankments border elegant landscapes, modern palaces rivaling the fabled Epang Palace. Luoyang is not only a land of lush grass and fertile soil, but a strategic fortress surrounded by mountains and rivers, guarded by eight gates. The Qing scholar Gu Zuyu praised Luoyang’s superior geography as “the rivers and mountains embrace it, the finest in the world,” making it the first choice for emperors seeking a capital.

Upon entering the city, Zifan did not immediately proceed to the palace. In this court, the interplay between officials, relatives of the imperial family, and the aristocracy was a matter of great importance.

From afar, the red walls and green tiles soared, ramparts towering to obscure the sky, the imperial palace exuding an awe-inspiring majesty. Rows of solemn halls rose, their golden rooftops gleaming in the sunlight, clustered together, uneven yet orderly, dazzling to the eye, impossible to discern east from west. Gazing at these magnificent palaces, Zifan was filled with emotion: here stood the imperial palace, the place spoken of in legend, where one could enjoy boundless wealth and honor, elevated above all, untouchable.

“Ah!…”