Crimson Qi, Exiled Beautiful Lady Falls in Love with a Shy Demon

Epilogues: The Spoils

~SHAN JIANG~

The smoke from the burning ships was proving to be too much for his eyes after two sleepless nights. He'd stuck with Du and Zhenshi the Younger like a faithful hound since the demons had come on the heels of Jung Hwa's wounded fleet, but he could barely see now, so what was the point of the exercise? He could be sitting in the camp right now. They would tell him all the details later.

Cursing himself for a stubborn fool, Jiang rubbed the tearing slits that used to be his eyes and stayed.

They had been within striking distance from the ancient Palace of Heavenly Delights since dawn. The street to street, house to house, an inch to inch fighting took hours. He did not understand why Wo Jia's guards fought on, but he felt compelled to witness it.

This was not something he would put in his history of Zha Yao's reign. This was exactly the same as seeing Jung Hwa strike Huo down. 'Huo who?' a future scribe would ask, and erase his footnote. This is not for the Chronicles. This is for me.

Another ship exploded down in the harbour, and the new plume of acrid smoke polluted the air. The ash fell down on the manicured square like snow. Wo Jia must know that his hours are numbered.

Once the air cleared, a man brazenly walked onto the Palace Square. The open space was a killing ground cratered and still smoking from the faeries' blasts.

Deserving Du yelped like a little girl deafening him too, jumped out of the ruined shop they were using as cover, and ran towards the fool. Zhenshi the Younger cursed elaborately, something about pounding the demons with a lobster claw, but ran even faster than Du. The rest of the Five Companions were less fleet of foot, but they also followed their lord on his suicidal stroll.

Zha Yao waved all of them to fall back, but Du did not slow down, and neither did Zhenshi, and he never stopped cursing either. The two knights came to stand a step behind Zha Yao.

He had seen the effect of Zha Yao's words on the crowds, but this time the rebel leader said nothing. The silence stretched on, interrupted only by the sounds of fighting in the harbour, and Jiang's heart beating in his ears.

The clang of the dropped metal echoed around the square.

The captain who tossed his sword to the ground frowned at it, then lifted his head with a visible effort. His frown deepened as he looked at his comrades by the gates, and then his men did what was forbidden. They laid down their weapons, in an avalanche of metal and wood, while their Emperor, the Son of Heavens, still drew breath.

***

The Five Companions closed the ranks around Zha Yao, weary of any desperate attempts on his life.

He felt exposed outside their intimate circle, but he trotted after them regardless, ahead of the growing crowd advancing through the Palace grounds. A weeping eunuch came out and prostrated himself before leading the way through the garden covered with soot.

The Celebrated Emperor waited for them in the gazebo on top of a hill so perfect in shape and size that it could not have been natural. Neither is Wo Jia.

Millenia of breeding with the most exquisite women produced the Son of Heavens, a work of art not man. The robes and the headdress set with a judicious amount of jewels did not bend his proud neck and shoulders. Perfect eyes looked out from underneath perfect brows with cultured serenity. Even his graying temples were balanced. He was seated on his heels, so Jiang could not judge his height, but he surmised that it was perfect as well.