In the depths of the palace, the dark tides never receded, and chaos was constant.
But the real storm was quietly brewing, drawing ever closer to breaking.
This year, the height of summer in White Jade City was suffocatingly hot, far surpassing previous years.
The lotuses in Taiye Pool were at the end of their bloom. The edges of the pink and white petals were curled and scorched yellow, drooping listlessly in the thick, sticky air like dying old men.
The cicadas shrieked themselves hoarse, as if using their last ounce of strength to cry out the oppressive heat of the entire summer, venting it all without restraint.
The bluestone pavers of the Palace Lanes were baked scalding hot by the fierce sun. Even through thick, official boots, one could feel the searing heat, making it nearly unbearable.
Inside Yangxin Hall of Qianqing Palace, the Iceberg in the corner slowly melted. The coolness it radiated failed to dispel the irritation in Emperor Xia’s heart; instead, it only made him more agitated.
He sat before the Dragon Desk, clutching a war report sent via the most urgent dispatch from the north. His knuckles were white from his tight grip, a clear testament to his mood.
The report was penned by Zhao Rui, the Vice Grand General of the Imperial Guard, himself. His handwriting was a hasty scrawl, betraying an unmistakable anxiety and worry.
"Your subject, Zhao Rui, reports: The Northern Desert Iron Cavalry has spent days outside the city, hurling insults and provocations. Their language is too foul to be heard. I have strictly adhered to Your Majesty’s previous decree to hold Iron Wall City, ordering all divisions not to leave the city to engage them. However, resentment among the soldiers grows daily. Our grain and fodder shipments have been delayed for many days. I fear that should this drag on, the army’s morale will collapse. I pray that..."
SLAM!
The war report was slammed hard onto the desk, making a jarring sound.
Emperor Xia shot to his feet, his chest heaving violently, a clear sign of the fury raging within him.
He strode to the window and stared out at the old locust tree in the courtyard, which stood perfectly still under the blazing sun. He felt a nameless rage tearing through his chest, threatening to erupt at any moment.
’A steady defense?’
’Hiding like turtles?’
He had sent two hundred thousand Imperial Guards north to the Great Desert to project the might of the Great Xia, to capture the true culprits, to avenge his afflicted Prince and Princess and his humiliated Empress—and especially to exact vengeance for his dead Chief Wet Nurse.
He didn’t send them there to cower in a city like turtles, letting the Northern Desert savages hurl curses from outside the walls and make a laughingstock of them.
But Zhao Rui was not wrong. Iron Wall City was the gateway to the Northern Territory. If it were to fall, hordes of Northern Desert Iron Cavalry would pour straight through, and it would no longer be a matter of small-scale harassment.
Before Zhao Rui had left the capital, Tantai Zhan had repeatedly advised him that a strong defense was the best offense. He himself had nodded at the time, agreeing to the plan.
His Personal Eunuch approached cautiously. "Your Majesty, a military report has also arrived from the Southern Border."
Emperor Xia whipped his head around. "Speak!"
The eunuch unfolded another war report, trembling. "The Southern King reports that the Southern Barbarians are using the terrain to set up layered defenses, slowing our army’s advance. Furthermore, the Prince himself has been wounded, disease is spreading through the army, and we are short on medical supplies. The resources of Prince Zhenan’s Mansion are also insufficient. Casualties have already surpassed several thousand. The Prince requests the Imperial Court to urgently dispatch medicine and provisions, and to grant permission to halt the offensive and await reinforcements."
"’Halt the offensive? I ordered him to crush the Southern Barbarians, and he dares tell me to halt? Everyone knows Prince Zhenan’s Mansion is as wealthy as a nation, and he claims to lack resources?’ Emperor Xia’s voice rose sharply."
He snatched the war report, his face growing darker and his fury mounting the more he read.
The Southern King’s report detailed the difficulties of campaigning in the Southern Border: ubiquitous poisonous miasma, rampant snakes and insects, complex terrain, and fighters from the Barbarian Race who struck and vanished like ghosts... A profound sense of helplessness permeated the message, along with a veiled warning that if forced to advance, the entire army might be annihilated. It was practically a threat.
But Emperor Xia was in no mood to listen. He only felt a vicious anger shoot straight to his head, and he could barely control himself.
Cowering in the north, cowering in the south. He, the magnificent Emperor of the Great Xia, had dispatched hundreds of thousands of troops, only for both the northern and southern fronts to become a joke, completely stalled.
"Useless! They’re all useless!"
Emperor Xia slammed the report to the ground, his eyes bloodshot. "I want news of victory! I want the blood of the Northern Desert Royal Court and the heads of the Southern Barbarian Hundred Races! Not this evasive, nonsensical drivel, and certainly not a bunch of cowering turtles!"
All the Palace Attendants in the hall knelt, trembling. No one dared make a sound, even though many felt Emperor Xia’s demands were pure fantasy.
Emperor Xia paced back and forth within the hall. The sound of his footsteps echoed through the vast space, each one feeling like it was stomping on the hearts of the Palace Attendants, sending a chill through them.
He suddenly stopped and turned to the newly arrived Zheng Zhicang. "The Northern Desert and the Southern Barbarians... any recent movements?"
Zheng Zhicang bowed. "Your Majesty, according to intelligence from our operatives, both the Northern Desert Da Kuo Royal Court and the Southern Barbarian Hundred Races have recently been denying their prior actions. They even claim that we of the Great Xia are being outrageously aggressive."
Emperor Xia sneered. "Outrageously aggressive? The evidence is ironclad, yet they refuse to admit it. They crippled my Prince, harmed my Princess, ruined my Empress, and killed my Chief Wet Nurse... and now they have the nerve to claim *we’re* the aggressors."
Zheng Zhicang lowered his head, not daring to speak. He had no idea what to say.
After a long silence, Emperor Xia heaved a long sigh, his voice thick with exhaustion. "Issue my decree. Tell Zhao Rui and the Southern King I am giving them one more month. If there is no progress within that month, I will replace them as commanders."
"Yes," Zheng Zhicang replied, though he sighed to himself.
’Replace them?’
’How many capable generals were even left in the Imperial Court today?’
’Those two hundred thousand Imperial Guards in the north were the elite of the elite. And while Zhao Rui wasn’t a legendary general, he was cautious and dependable, a man who rarely erred.’
’As for the Southern Border, the Southern King’s family had guarded it for generations; he was intimately familiar with the battle tactics of the Barbarian Race. If anyone else were sent, they’d likely be defeated faster and lose even more miserably.’
’But he couldn’t say any of this.’
’The Emperor’s will was set. More words would be useless. Besides, he wasn’t Emperor Xia’s man anymore.’
The decree was quickly sent out, but neither Zhao Rui in the Northern Territory nor the Southern King in the Southern Border had much of a reaction upon receiving it, other than a bitter smile.
’One month?’
’No grain, no medicine, no reinforcements... What were they supposed to attack with? Did he really expect the soldiers to plug the gaps with their own flesh and blood?’
And just as the Imperial Court was in complete disarray, a rumor began to quietly spread through the streets and alleys of White Jade City, growing more intense as it passed from person to person.
「White Jade City’s West Market, First Grade Fragrance Teahouse.」
The afternoon sun was vicious, but the teahouse was full, with scarcely an empty seat to be found.
A waiter, drenched in sweat, weaved between the tables and chairs, carrying a large copper kettle.
The air was a mix of the acrid smell of cheap tea, the stench of sweat, and the low hum of hushed conversations.
"’Have you heard? Another defeat up north!’ a man in a short tunic said hoarsely, spitting out a wad of tea leaves."
An old man at the next table shook his head. "I heard that long ago. They say two hundred thousand Imperial Guards are trapped in Iron Wall City by just a few tens of thousands of Northern Desert Riding Patrols, too scared to even show their faces. Tsk, tsk. Back when Vice Grand General Yue Zhan was in charge, we’d never have suffered this kind of humiliation!"
"’Vice Grand General Zhao Rui isn’t bad, he’s just a bit too cautious,’ someone interjected."
"’Vice Grand General Zhao Rui is decent, but he’s cautious to a fault,’ the man said, lowering his voice. ’Besides, the Emperor isn’t sending any provisions or reinforcements. Do you think he doesn’t actually want to fight? Otherwise, why would things be this way?’"
"’Doesn’t want to fight? Then why send an army?’ the old man asked, frowning."
The man scoffed. "It’s all for show. So many Princes and Princesses were killed or injured, plus the Empress and the Emperor’s Chief Wet Nurse... He has to give the realm some kind of an answer, right? But to really fight a life-or-death war with the Northern Desert and the Southern Barbarians? Think of how many people would die, how much money it would cost. The Emperor isn’t willing to pay that price, is he?"
The remarks were outrageously bold, yet no one in the teahouse refuted them.
People exchanged glances, their faces a complicated mixture of anger, helplessness, and, more than anything, a profound numbness.

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