Chapter Seventy-Five: The Man in the Crimson Robe

As they emerged from the forest, Ghibler saw Narugel still supporting Li Pingyang and felt a surge of irritation. He rushed over, blocking Narugel with his arm, and demanded to know who had won.

Narugel ignored him, giving only a brief glance before pushing past and continuing forward. After sharing time together beneath the cliff, he had gained a friend; victory or defeat no longer held much significance.

Yet to put Ghibler’s mind at ease, he took Li Pingyang’s hand in front of everyone and declared him the winner.

Immediately, the crowd lifted Li Pingyang into the air, cheering loudly. The Third Prince, though wishing to join in the celebration, could only stand to the side with a quiet smile, constrained by his status.

He had proven himself to the people of Tubo, and also sent a clear message to the foreign schemers who had shown themselves at the birthday banquet: abandon your ambitions quickly.

Given Tubo’s repeated provocations and their brazen disruption of the banquet, the Song Emperor was not inclined to show mercy. Now that the contest was settled, he ordered his guards to seize the Tubo envoys.

"Take them!"

At his command, a squad of guards clad in red robes and half-white masks appeared. Their murderous gazes alone made the Tubo men recoil in fear. The stark contrast of their white masks and crimson robes struck terror into anyone who saw them, as if they were ghosts come to claim lives.

Seeing they were about to be seized, Ghibler was the first to resist. He barely had time to draw his blade before one of the red-robed guards flickered forward, appearing directly before him. From two yards away, the guard raised a hand, gathering energy in his palm, and struck out. The force slammed Ghibler’s half-drawn sword back into its sheath. The impact was so strong that Ghibler was forced to release his grip, and the blade was sent flying from his hand, embedding itself into a rock behind him, leaving only the hilt exposed.

Ghibler himself staggered back five or six steps, only staying upright with the help of his subordinates. He eyed the red-robed guard warily—this one was at least a ninth-rank master.

When one of his fellow Tubo warriors raised his sword to attack another guard, Ghibler kicked him down, not wanting him to throw his life away in vain.

To discover that every member of the Song Emperor’s personal guard was a ninth-rank or higher master shocked him, though he realized it was only to be expected.

Soon, all the Tubo delegation had been apprehended. Li Pingyang saw that Narugel, still wounded and unhealed, was also forced to kneel by a red-robed guard. Perhaps his wound had been aggravated, for pain flashed across his face.

Li Pingyang wished to plead for his friend, but the Third Prince gave him a stern look, shaking his head to urge caution. The Song Emperor was in no mood for leniency; it was best to wait for a better time.

The Tubo envoys were led away. Whether or not they lost their heads, they would likely suffer torture and humiliation—there would be little mercy for them.

Watching as Narugel was taken away, the Song Emperor departed. The Third Prince gave Li Pingyang a glance and followed after.

Li Hu, battered and bruised, slumped against a tree, waiting for Li Pingyang so they could return together. At that moment, one of the Emperor’s personal eunuchs approached Li Pingyang.

The eunuch, careful to avoid others, cupped a hand to his mouth and whispered something to Li Pingyang, who looked utterly astonished.

He blurted out, "What! He wants to see me?" The eunuch quickly clapped a hand over his mouth, urging him to keep his voice down.

It was a verbal edict from His Majesty, relayed by Eunuch Hong: Li Pingyang was to be summoned to the imperial study the next day.

Seeing Li Pingyang’s surprise, Eunuch Hong gave a coquettish smile. He, too, had witnessed the entire scene at the birthday banquet, when Li Pingyang had fought the tiger, and had been thoroughly impressed.

He admired this young man greatly, and so patted him gently on the head, offering some kindly advice.

He said, "When you go tomorrow, don’t touch anything in the room. All of those paintings and calligraphy pieces are the Emperor’s treasures—especially the parrot in the cage!"

"And mind your words and actions: speak little, don’t say anything unnecessary, and keep your thoughts to yourself..."

Listening to Eunuch Hong’s earnest and well-meaning admonitions, which sprayed saliva with every word, Li Pingyang felt a warmth in his heart, though he frowned on the surface.

If this went on, he feared he might drown in the flood of words! Wiping his face, Li Pingyang gave a helpless smile, feeling as if he were a child again, being lectured by his father.

Once Eunuch Hong felt he had said enough, he prepared to leave. Li Pingyang hurriedly caught his hand and slipped a money pouch into it.

Eunuch Hong was startled and tried to decline.

"No, no, no! What are you doing?"

"Eunuch Hong, just a small token. Please accept it—you’ve taken trouble on my behalf, and I’ll need your help in the future."

Li Pingyang pressed the pouch back into his hand. Eunuch Hong looked troubled, insisting that it was his duty. Everyone knew the Emperor held Li Pingyang in high regard for humbling the Tubo envoys.

"It’s my duty! But I can’t accept this money."

Seeing that he was still being polite, Li Pingyang shielded them from Li Hu’s gaze and, seizing Eunuch Hong’s hand, forced the pouch into his palm, asking if he found it too little.

Eunuch Hong hurriedly explained that wasn’t the case; he was simply embarrassed. Li Pingyang smiled at him, and only then did the eunuch accept the gift, his affection for this courteous young man growing all the stronger.

"So young, yet already possessed of such manners and virtue, and a master of poetry besides, astonishing the world! Your name is known far and wide, yet you remain humble and calm—a true hero among men."

"No wonder His Majesty often mentions you..."

At this, Li Pingyang smiled in curiosity and asked what the Emperor said about him—what was there to talk about?

The eunuch explained that on the day at the Flower Pavilion, Li Pingyang had drunkenly composed fifty poems, each one a masterpiece.

Especially that one...

Here, Eunuch Hong puffed up his chest in imitation of a poet, cleared his throat, and began to recite:

"The great river flows eastward, its waves sweeping all away... jagged rocks pierce the sky, tempests crash upon the shore, rolling... rolling... rolling..."

He struggled for a moment to recall the next line, rolling his tongue but failing to produce it. Li Pingyang, amused, supplied, "Rolling up a thousand heaps of snow!"

Eunuch Hong laughed awkwardly, "Yes, yes, a thousand heaps of snow."

"The Emperor loves this poem—reads it often, and has copied it out many times, never tiring of it."

At this point, seeing that the others had walked far ahead, the eunuch decided it was time to end the conversation and bid Li Pingyang farewell, promising to speak again another day.

"Thank you for your advice, Eunuch."

Li Pingyang bowed, watching the eunuch leave. As the eunuch glanced back, he felt, for a moment, as if he were a true poet himself. It had been a long time since he had felt such passion.

Bidding farewell to Eunuch Hong, Li Pingyang helped the wounded Li Hu as they made their way home. Tomorrow's matters could wait—tonight, he wanted nothing more than a good night's sleep.