The Longest Day in Chang’an: A Race Against Time

“Sir, Supervisor He is back.” His vital capacity was so large that he did call powerfully.

Li Bi frowned, “Why does he come back so soon? That’s unusual.” He made an eye contact with Tan Qi, who, upon getting the hint, pushed Zhang Xiaojing’s gray pottery figurine out of the sand table with moon stick.

Messenger also handed over several new files which must first be reviewed and signed for by Li Bi. He read and signed, and suddenly frowned, taking a paper out. He handed it to a servant next to him and whispered a few words.

No sooner had Li Bi given order than old He entered the hall and asked,

“Changyuan, how dare you appoint a condemned prisoner?”

***

Wen Ran beat the incense residue out of hands, adjusted her father’s memorial tablet and murmured, “Today is Lantern Festival. Do I really have to leave?”

There was no one in the room. She was just talking to herself.

Someone just sent a message, in which contained a unique code; she knew it was from benefactor.

The message told her to leave Chang’an as soon as possible, yet didn’t give any explanation. This was somewhat a dilemma to Wen Ran. Since her father died, she resolutely took over this incense shop and hung in there herself. With kind of stubbornness and persistence, her business was getting along very well. Moreover, great demand for incense on Lantern Festival meant a good time to make money. “If I leave now, I’m gonna earn less.”

But it was the order from benefactor that Wen Ran couldn’t ignore. Without him, Wen’s family would have broken up last year. Her father had repeatedly warned her to obey benefactor in every way.

With a soft sigh, she packed her gear and looked up at the densely order plates on the wall. Each plate represented an important order. She couldn’t read much or keep accounts, so this was her only way to record business. She saw one of the wooden plates with the word “Wang” written on it, beside which were a dozen pink dots.

This order, twelve packs of super gods-calling rue incenses, placed by daughter of Jiedushi Wang from Anren Fang was due today.

Wen Ran’s pale and delicate eyebrows were knitted together. The order meant a lot to Wen’s Incense

Anren Fang was three avenues northeast of Dunyi Fang; that was not too far. Wen Ran thought, “I must deliver this order anyway before I get out of Chang’an.”

With that decided, she turned to bring rue incenses, put them on a bamboo rack and carried out on her back. She had planned to rent a mule, but all the cattle in the nearby courier station were fully booked for festival, even high price didn’t work. That left her no choice but to manually carry the rack.

The street was full of traffic. She pushed her way through the crowd and finally arrived at Chongye Fang, weary and exhausted. There was a Xuandu Temple and most dignitaries worshipped there; various cattle and carriages stopping by the Fang gate blocked the street. Civilians had to pause and wait patiently.

Wen Ran quietly stood in the crowd, unaware that, on the second floor of a tavern at the corner of the opposite Huaizhen Fang, a couple of evil eyes peered over the wide street and swept her several times.

A middle-aged man in light cyan official robe turned his gaze and slowly raised a cup. He had narrow eyes and Roman nose. And a move of his lips would pull the nose and eyelids, as if a snake was swimming under the skin.

“Do you see that woman?” He coldly asked as he took a sip.

Next to him stood a couple of young men dressed in brocaded robes, who all nodded repeatedly upon hearing the question.

The middle-aged man said with hatred, “Her case with her father last year stirred the city into a tempest, and did a county chief in. It’s Providence that I bump into her today. If I don’t revenge, others will treat me, Feng Dalun, like a doormat.”

“You must take ‘good’ care of her later.”

The youths in brocaded robe all laughed, eyes sparkling with evil and lascivious desire.

Feng Dalun put down his cup, “Do whatever you want. Yama Zhang is in the jail waiting to die, no one will protect her this time.” Every time the name was mentioned, there was a flicker of fear and hate in his eyes. Even he couldn’t figure out which feeling was stronger. To dispel this unpleasant feeling, he waved his hand,

“Why are you still standing still? Act now!”

The youths crossed their hands and stamped down the stairs.

Wen Ran finally got out of the crowded Chongye Fang and walked along the street for a while. Unconsciously, she found herself surrounded by several young loafers. These youths dressed frivolously, and a few dark tattoos could be seen under the neck from the front opening of their robes.

The young loafers just hung around from the beginning, and then quietly closed in one by one, crowding out other pedestrians. Slowly, they occupied all directions around Wen Ran. These people, loosely separated from each other, formed an impregnable human wall into which she was confined.

Wen Ran sensed that there was something wrong, trying to rushing out. The young loafers jokingly stopped her and pushed her back with their shoulders and arms. In her anger she grasped one man’s arm and pulled it hard. Instead of tearing the ‘wall’ apart, she pulled his robe down and saw two dark arms.

The youth’s arms were tattooed with two lines of cyan words: Live without fear of the Jingzhao Office; Die without fear of the King of Hell.

It…It was the sign of the Fires (a gang)! The gang, a bully in Wannian County, kept hundreds of loafers. From picking quarrels and provoking troubles to robbing and killing, they ran amuck everywhere willfully.

“Is…Is this the danger mentioned in benefactor’s message?” Wen Ran thought. But why the Fires gang came to bother her? Wen Ran had no idea.

As if falling into a torrent, Wen Ran was wrapped by a man wall, being forced all the way north to a remote area. She obstinately clenched her teeth, her eyes constantly looking out from the gaps of the ‘wall’. Suddenly her face brightened: there was a scout booth in the front corner of Fang and several scouts were sitting there, holding forks in their hands. She sped up, knocked off a young loafer and cried to scouts for help.

The scouts heard the cry and picked up their forks, but their faces changed at the first sight of a dozen of loafers with arm tattoos following the girl. The leading youth composedly came up and bowed, “I’m disciplining my wife. Sorry to make myself a joke.” Then, he took off a string of coins from waist and handed it over.

Although knowing he was lying, the scouts, unwilling to cause more trouble, took the money and retreated. The youths playfully dragged desperate Wen Ran back to the man wall. At the front crossing, there was an arched carriage waiting over there, its two windows covered with black cloth. The young loafers pushed her into the carriage, and then two men jumped into and locked the door from the inside.

The carriage started slowly. Wen Ran was very scared in the dark, yet unable to get out. A while later, from outside the carriage suddenly came a grand bell. The special bell, broad with a little clear unvoiced sound, was easy to be recognized as the violet gold Fo’en Bell in the Jidu Nunnery. Empress Wu Zetian had practiced Dharma here; the bell was cast in violet gold, so the sound was quite different from that of other temple bells.

Suddenly, she calmed down.

It was not because the powers of the Buddha, but she suddenly realized that she was not completely desperate.

Jidu Nunnery was located in Anye Fang, where Wen Ran often came to send incense and was familiar with the paths around. As soon as she heard the bell, she immediately figured out where she was-probably on the west side of Anye Fang, close to An’ren Fang where she had planned to go while there was only Rosefinch Street in between.

Rosefinch Street was a north-south road in central Chang’an, about one hundred steps wide, leading straight to imperial palace. “If I have the opportunity to run on the Royal Road, I may be able to escape.”

Thinking of that, Wen Ran sat straight against the wall of the carriage, and her hands, in the dark, felt a loose nail in the floor crack.

It was in her nature to never give up easily.

*

With a cry of repression to the extreme, Cao Poyan jerked forward, his eyes red. The stick in his mouth was almost bitten off.

The bamboo craftsman extracted a section of dark and bloody arrow shaft with a sharp knife. He put down the knife, and then completed the stitching, dressing and wrapping expertly.

“The headless arrow won’t endanger your life, but your elbow can’t move for months.” The craftsman said as he washed the blood off his hands in the basin. Cao Poyan nodded weakly, sweat pouring down his forehead.

Meanwhile, there came the sound of footsteps outside, and a sullen man came in. He had a typical Turkic appearance: chapped horse face and bushy white brows. He was wearing a floor length, plain silk robe with a bailing bucket-like hood which was not the style of Tang or Hu clothes.

“General Yousha.” Cao Poyan and the bamboo craftsman bowed together to pay respect.

Yousha was not a name, but an official title in Turk. Royal members were assigned to take over different territories, those who controlled the east were called Zuosha, and the west Yousha; they had enormous powers. If the Tang court knew that such a big shot actually hid in Chang’an, it would certainly cause a great storm.

Yousha glanced at Cao Poyan’s wound on his elbow, “I’ve just got the news. The fifteen warriors came with you were already dead.” Cao Poyan flopped down on his knees and ashamedly held the knife nearby against his heart, “It’s all my faults, and I would die for my sin.”

Wolf guards were the most loyal bodyguards of Khan. They were ordered to sneak into Chang’an and had never intended to return to the grasslands alive. However, they should have sacrificed their life in exchange of hundreds of times that of the Tang people to serve Khan. Dying in a broken warehouse was indeed a great waste.

Yousha sneered, “What right do you have to decide your life? It belongs to Khan.” He took the sharp knife from Cao Poyan’s hand, cut off a strand of hair from the latter’s head, and wrapped it around his wrist. It meant taking the spirit of the guilty on the grasslands. From that moment on, Cao Poyan was completely dead, leaving only a shell that had to obey any command.

“From this moment on, you are not allowed to die until complete all my orders.”