Chapter Twenty-Three: Palace Coup

Luoyang, Imperial City

At the hour of the Boar, the eunuch timekeeper had just passed by. In a nearby side chamber, murmurs and whispers drifted through the air—soft, conspiratorial voices, though hushed, still managed to seep out.

“That He Jin is arrogant beyond measure, seeing no one but himself. This empire does not belong to him alone. Does he truly believe, with all his posturing, that there are none among us who can oppose him?”

“Though the new emperor now sits the throne, the death of Qian Shuo cannot go unavenged. We must repay blood with blood. But our status is beneath his; He Jin will not heed our call. Only with the Empress Dowager’s aid can we hope for justice.”

“What do you propose?”

“I am well aware of the Empress Dowager’s temperament… If we proceed thus, and so… how could that butcher He Jin not fall into our snare? What does the Empress Dowager think?”

“So be it. But regardless of success or failure, I will not be held responsible…” After a prolonged silence, a sigh echoed softly.

After a brief rustling, a dark head emerged. The chamber door creaked open, and ten figures slipped out, vanishing swiftly into the vastness of the night.

Grand General’s Residence

The rumbling of carriage wheels echoed like raindrops striking polished white jade. In the golden sunlight, the elegant silhouette of a carriage glided over the ground. All sides of the carriage were draped in luxurious silks, while its gold-inlaid, gem-studded windows were veiled by a curtain of pale blue gauze.

The carriage moved slowly through the streets toward the palace. The horses’ hooves beat a rapid rhythm; one whinnied, sending a plume of white breath into the air, its cry long and piercing—much like He Jin himself, now that his nephew was emperor. He truly stood above all but one, with no need to bow to anyone.

Not far behind, a lone rider galloped up, calling loudly through the carriage curtain, “Grand General, it is unwise to visit the palace so late. The Empress’s summons may be false; beware of a trap!”

“The realm is settled now, my nephew is enthroned, and those so-called ‘Ten Attendants’ are nothing but mongrels—they cannot stir up much trouble. What should I fear?” Lifting a corner of the carriage curtain, He Jin revealed his weary, round face and waved dismissively. “Since you are so concerned, Yuan Shao, do this: go and rally the troops to surround the palace. Even if there is deception, they will not dare act rashly. These eunuchs, bitten once and now fearful for three years, are timid and indecisive—incapable of accomplishing anything. What is there to fear?”

“Besides, it is my own sister who has summoned me to discuss affairs of state. There can be no deceit. Yuan Shao, you need not follow further. I shall return soon enough…”

With that, he urged his driver onward. The carriage rolled slowly down the long street, snow crunching softly beneath its wheels. Yuan Shao lashed his whip furiously. “Foolish, utterly foolish! In times as chaotic as these, how can such a mind accomplish anything? He is doomed to a death without burial,” he muttered, shaking his head, before turning his horse and galloping madly toward the barracks to muster the troops.

Meanwhile, the carriage arrived before Yong’an Palace. He Jin alighted slowly, surveying his surroundings. Apart from the watchful attendants and the night guards, not a soul was to be seen; the silence was uncanny. He Jin approached an attendant. “Why is it so quiet tonight?”

“Grand General, the Empress Dowager instructed us to clear the palace of all unnecessary persons, as she wished to discuss state matters with you tonight. No one is permitted to wander the halls without cause,” replied the servant, head bowed, not daring any hint of negligence.

He Jin stroked his beard thoughtfully. Could it be that his sister still refuses to let the ‘Ten Attendants’ go? It should not be so… He stepped forward, crossing the threshold into Yong’an Palace.

“No outsiders may enter. You are to stand guard out here. At the slightest sign of trouble, rush in at once,” he commanded his dozen or so attendants.

They saluted, then straightened their postures, standing vigilant at the palace entrance without a trace of slackness. He Jin strode boldly into the inner halls. Beyond the rows of lamp columns, shadows flickered and shifted. He Jin’s face turned from yellow to a waxen white, his lips bloodless, but as a seasoned warrior, he remained alert, gripping his sword hilt and halting his steps.

“Who dares play tricks here? Show yourself!” he barked.

But the silence persisted, until suddenly, dozens of black-clad figures descended, faces brimming with murderous intent. In an instant, blades flashed and the hall erupted with shouts and clashing steel.

“Assassins!” He Jin cried in terror, drawing his sword to parry the oncoming blows. Sword met sword in a whirlwind of sparks and shadows, the clamor so intense it seemed to shake heaven and earth. Thunder crashed, splitting the night with blinding light.

Unable to dodge, He Jin was struck by several swords. His hair disheveled, he swung his treasured blade desperately, colliding with his attackers. Amidst the chaos—torchlight, shouts, flashing swords—his vision blurred. Blood smeared his face; he shook his head and stood his ground.

“Ahhh!” He Jin, his vision dim, fought stubbornly for survival, stumbling toward the palace gates. His corpulent form staggered, sword gripped tightly, blood in his mouth as he shouted for help.

The sword danced like a white snake, hissing through the air, sometimes darting lightly like a swallow, sometimes striking with the suddenness of lightning. A streak of silver swept the courtyard, as though swallowing the blood of a thousand foes. Who could have foreseen that Zhang Rang, one of the ‘Ten Attendants,’ was a master swordsman? Years by the emperor’s side had hidden his true skills. With a sickening sound, Zhang Rang’s sword pierced He Jin’s chest.

“You… you… Zhang…”

“Grand General, forgive me. Tonight, it is you or me. I have waited long for this moment—blame not my ruthlessness.” Zhang Rang’s shrill voice echoed in He Jin’s ear. Then, with a terrible cry, he brought his blade down on He Jin’s neck.

All was still. The headless body toppled to the ground with a heavy thud. The air was thick with the scent of blood; the world itself seemed to tremble, mountains shattering, the living reduced to nothing in an instant—only to return to silence.

Flames engulfed all of Luoyang. The sky belonged to fire and smoke; beyond the palace gates, terror and death reigned. People fled in all directions. Piles of corpses lay twisted and ghastly. The suffocating stench choked the air. Yuan Shao arrived with reinforcements, clashing with the eunuch guards outside the palace—the fighting left both sides decimated.

The carnage echoed through every corner of the palace.

Zhang Rang, blade in hand, roared, “Find the princes Liu Bian and Liu Xie! Take them away! Even with a new emperor enthroned, we shall remain by his side. The empire can have only one lord. This was the late emperor’s wish. You traitors and rebels will not die well!”

“Kill! Kill!”