Chapter 116: Sending the Six Envoys (Part Two)

By the fifth month of the first year of Tianshou, the Wu Zhou revolution was drawing near. Empress Wu sat high upon her throne, dropping subtle hints, while the various members of the Wu clan in the court stoked the flames of ambition. The air was thick with intrigue; factions emerged and faded, each showing off their prowess. Whether they acted in the name of loyalty or the state, their ultimate motives were much the same: to secure benefits for themselves and their cohorts.

The dispatching of the "Six Dao Commissioners" was a venomous scheme cooked up by the Wu clan. It signaled that with the central government firmly under her thumb, Empress Wu was now extending the reach of her purges to the provinces. The "Six Daos" referred to the Hedong, Hebei, Shannan, Huainan, Jiangnan, and Jiannan circuits. Emperor Taizong had originally divided the realm into ten circuits; by creating these commissioners, the Empress effectively blanketed the heartland of the empire, excluding only the Guannei and Henan circuits—where the two capitals were located—as well as the remote Longyou and Lingnan regions.

Quan Ce was thunderstruck by the title of these commissioners. It was not the mystical ring of the name that unsettled him, but the trail of blood and tears it carried. Empowered by the imperial mandate, these commissioners acted with absolute impunity. Investigating local customs and administrative integrity was merely a pretext; their true purpose was to force local officials to choose a side and to purge any who dissented. Because they were capital officials sent to the provinces with no understanding of local realities, they employed the most brutal methods. Upon arriving in a region, they would immediately execute all prisoners previously exiled for crimes or those suspected of slandering the Empress. This cruel display served to gauge the reaction of local officials; any sign of hesitation or criticism would trigger a second, more lethal wave of slaughter.

The Six Dao Commissioners opened a harrowing chapter in the Empress’s reign of terror.

As Quan Ce watched the note turn to ash, a tremor ran through his heart. He was not afraid of being investigated—his actions were prudent, and he had the backing of the "Wordless Stele"—but he feared that the Empress might appoint him as one of these commissioners.

The architect of this scheme was Fu Youyi, a man devoid of humanity. Given that he was currently in the midst of being groomed and co-opted by the Empress, the probability of him being chosen for the role was disturbingly high.

Quan Ce’s face turned deathly pale. The Six Dao Commissioners were immensely powerful for a time, holding the power of life and death, but they inevitably provoked a violent backlash from the court. Once the Empress had achieved her political goals, she would easily discard these envoys to serve as scapegoats. In the tangled web of the bureaucracy, where old grudges and grievances ran deep, none of these commissioners ever met a good end.

Quan Ce squeezed his temples hard, forcing himself to calm down. It was a narrow escape—the matter was not yet settled; he still had a chance to save himself.

Feign illness? Suffer an injury? Pretend to go mad?

These ideas flashed through his mind. Officials had long used such ploys to avoid danger, and emperors usually did not push matters too far, simply opting to replace them. However, with the suspicious and ruthless Empress Wu, such rules did not apply, and it was all too easy to be too clever by half.

"No, I must stay right under her nose, in a way that is reasonable and beyond reproach." Quan Ce rejected his initial, crude ideas. Closing his eyes, he felt his mind grow cool and steady. He needed to play a game of chess that was both swift and complex.

At the Xuanren Gate of the Taichu Palace, the new round of recruitment for the Eastern Capital Qianniu Guards was proceeding in an orderly fashion. After the eastern campaign and two ceremonies of witnessing troops during the submission of the inner tribes, the Eastern Capital Qianniu Guards had become a prestigious name in the military. There was no longer a need to go door-to-door to persuade recruits; many saw the methods of the Guards, and sons of the Shandong gentry and minor landowning families who felt frustrated by their lack of advancement flocked to join. Men on horseback, swords at their waists, became a common sight on the streets of the Eastern Capital.

Zheng Zhong ordered Han Zhai and Wang Hui to oversee the recruitment. The rations and horses they had prepared went largely unused; they could simply sit and select the best candidates.

"What is your clan's lineage?"
"How much land and property does your family own?"
"Are you a legitimate or secondary son?"
"What is your birth order?"

They repeated these few questions over and over. Within days, Wang Hui’s mouth was covered in blisters, yet his expression remained excited as he loudly recited the "Four Don'ts."

"No legitimate sons, no eldest sons, no sons of poor farmers, no scholars."

This decree left many feeling as though they had suffered a death in the family.

Then, a young man in fine silk robes, surrounded by an entourage, approached the desk. One of his insolent servants, stumbling forward, shoved a standing guard.

"Clang!" A horizontal blade cleared its sheath, and with a flash of cold steel, it slashed down on the servant’s arm, severing it at the root. Blood sprayed everywhere.

The servant didn't react until a moment later, then began rolling on the ground in agony, clutching his wound, before being kicked in the head and losing consciousness.

The silk-robed dandy, having never suffered such an indignity, was furious. "You ruffian! How dare you act so boldly in front of your betters? Seize him!"

But none of the servants behind him dared to move. A squad of ten or more Qianniu Guards had already arrived, eyes cold as they stared down the group. The leading squad commander waved his hand, ordering the servant with the severed arm to be taken into custody. "If you dare to commit violence again, I will arrest the lot of you and judge you by military law!"

"Fine! Very well! The Eastern Capital Qianniu Guards are truly twisted. You are the first to treat Wu Shouye like this. We shall see!" The dandy, knowing better than to fight a losing battle, shouted a few threats and left it at that. He slammed his palm on the desk, though he only succeeded in numbing his own hand. "I want to join!"

Wang Hui smiled and shook his head. "We won't take you."

"Why? I don't fit any of your 'Four Don'ts'!" the young man said with a dark expression.

Wang Hui looked past him. "Next."

"I am Li Dun, a member of the Tang imperial clan. Not legitimate, not the eldest, and my family has..."

Wang Hui waved him off before he could finish. "Not accepted. Next."

Li Dun was stunned. He stood to the side with Wu Shouye, watching Wang Hui and Han Zhai recruit for over two hours, and gradually realized the truth: though they only spoke of four "don'ts," in reality, it was six. They would take neither the Wu clan nor the Li clan.

Li Dun simply flicked his sleeves and left.

Wu Shouye, however, was not so easily dismissed. He pointed a finger at Wang Hui and shouted, "Fine! The Eastern Capital Qianniu Guards have guts, but I am determined to get in. Just wait, I’ll show you how I get in!"

Seeing the guard nearby rest his hand on his sword hilt, Wu Shouye quickly pulled his finger back and stormed off in a rage.

By evening, as Wang Hui and the others were ordering the guards to pack up, a group of men rode out from the side to block their path.

It was none other than Wang Hui's former superior, the General of the Right Guard and Marquis of Yiyang, Wu Yanxiu. Behind him emerged a sneering figure—it was Wu Shouye, who had returned with reinforcements.

"Why couldn't he be accepted?" Wu Yanxiu did not dismount, instead lashing his horse whip against the desk, scattering the files into the air.

Wang Hui felt a moment of despair, but looking back, he saw Han Zhai standing tall as a pine, eyes fixed not on Wu Yanxiu, but on him. The spirit and discipline of the Eastern Capital Qianniu Guards echoed in his ears. He stood at attention with a sharp snap. "The Eastern Capital Qianniu Guards operate by their own regulations."

Wu Yanxiu was slightly surprised. Instead of getting angry, he chuckled and raised his whip. "Good. If there are regulations, tell me: which one does he fail to meet?"

Wang Hui, naturally, could not say they wouldn't take a member of the Wu family. Glancing at Wu Shouye, he found it easy to manufacture an excuse. "No martial strength, no spirit. A man such as this wouldn't be accepted into any standard military unit, let alone the Eastern Capital Qianniu Guards."

Wu Yanxiu’s expression darkened. "Wang Hui, are you determined not to give me this face?"

"In the Eastern Capital Qianniu Guards, military law knows no favor," Wang Hui answered in a loud, clear voice. Several onlookers nearby began to applaud. Because the Guards carried the name of the Eastern Capital, the locals viewed this proud unit as their own.

Wu Yanxiu tightened his reins and turned to leave. Wu Shouye hurriedly pleaded, "Third Uncle, you must help your nephew! If I can't get into the Qianniu Guards, how can I show my face anywhere?"

Wu Yanxiu, pushed to the limit of his rage, lashed out with his whip, raining blows upon Wu Shouye. At first, the young man just took it, but seeing his uncle’s genuine fury, he turned and fled, wailing, followed by his servants in a chaotic, pathetic scramble.

"Face? Even a pig or a dog knows to care for its face. Where is a man supposed to find his own?"

Wu Yanxiu’s heart was filled with venom. As he glanced back at Wang Hui, his eyes were cold and piercing.