Volume 1, Chapter 38: The Emperor's Another Ordeal

The trial at the Emerald Palace had just concluded, and before Li Xuan could even catch his breath, he received a private summons from the Emperor.

This time, the meeting was in the Imperial Study.

"Your son pays his respects to Your Majesty." Li Xuan bowed with practiced decorum, though inwardly he was wondering what further tests his father had in store for him.

Li Chengye set down the memorial he had been reading, his expression stern. "Xuan'er, I have a task for you."

"Please, Father, give your instructions."

"The Left Battalion of the Metropolitan Jinwu Guard—do you know its current state?" Li Chengye's tone carried a hint of suppressed fury.

Li Xuan’s heart skipped a beat. The Left Battalion of the Jinwu Guard was a crucial pillar of the capital’s defenses, responsible for the security of the Imperial City’s southern gate. If something was wrong with this unit, it was no trivial matter.

"I am not entirely clear on the details. I ask that Your Majesty enlighten me."

Li Chengye snorted coldly and slid a thick stack of memorials across the desk. "See for yourself. These are all petitions impeaching the Left Battalion. Lax discipline, corruption, factionalism—it has become an absolute disaster!"

Li Xuan opened the documents, finding them filled with a dense record of the battalion’s misconduct: embezzling military pay, accepting bribes, bullying the common people, deserting posts... Every single entry was shocking.

"Father, this..." Li Xuan furrowed his brow. "How could the Left Battalion fall into such decay?"

"It’s all that Du Wei!" Li Chengye’s temper flared at the mention of the name. "I promoted him to commander of the Left Battalion years ago because he was the son of a veteran and had served with merit at the border. Who knew that once he reached the capital, he would change? He stopped striving, gave himself over to luxury, and dragged a fine army into this wretched state!"

Li Xuan was silent for a moment before looking up. "What is Your Majesty’s intent?"

"I want you to take over the Left Battalion," Li Chengye said, meeting Li Xuan’s eyes directly. "Within three months, I want this mess cleaned up!"

The implication was clear. This was another test, and a far more severe one than the incident at the Emerald Palace. The Left Battalion involved not only military discipline but served as a litmus test for whether the Crown Prince possessed the capability to lead and reform an army. Success would prove his talent; failure would not only damage his prestige as heir but could also provide his political enemies with a weapon to use against him. Most crucially, the military was not the imperial court; it was a place where one’s true worth was measured by grit and capability.

"I..." Li Xuan hesitated, feigning appropriate caution. "Father, although I have read some military texts, I lack practical experience in leading troops. As for the matter of the Left Battalion..."

"What? Are you afraid to accept?" A flicker of disappointment crossed Li Chengye’s eyes.

"It is not fear, but..." Li Xuan took a deep breath and suddenly knelt. "I am willing to take on this duty! I only hope that Your Majesty will grant me the authority to act with discretion."

The disappointment in Li Chengye’s eyes instantly turned to approval. "Speak."

"First, I request the power to execute before reporting—to deal with severely undisciplined officers immediately and report to Your Majesty afterward."

"Granted."

"Second, I hope to be allowed to reshuffle the battalion’s personnel, promoting those who deserve it and removing those who do not."

"Also granted."

"Third," Li Xuan paused, "I hope Your Majesty will provide funding to improve the treatment of the soldiers."

Li Chengye pondered for a moment. "How much do you need?"

"One hundred thousand taels."

"Good!" Li Chengye slapped the table and stood up. "I knew I was not mistaken in you! To dare to accept a hot potato, and to have the audacity to demand both power and funds—this is the mettle a Crown Prince should have!"

Li Xuan smiled inwardly; his father was a sensible man who understood that if one wanted the horse to run well, one had to provide the fodder.

"I shall not fail your expectations."

"Go. From tomorrow, you are the acting commander of the Left Battalion. Remember, I give you three months. If by then you have not cleared this mess..." Li Chengye did not finish, but the threat was abundantly clear.

"I understand."

Leaving the Imperial Study, Li Xuan let out a long sigh. This game of chess was truly perilous at every turn.

Back at the Eastern Palace, Li Xuan tossed the heavy black-iron token onto the table with a dull thud. The token shimmered with a cold, ghostly light under the candlelight, looking like a predatory beast.

Xiao Ning-shuang had been waiting for him. Seeing his return, her eyes immediately locked onto the token. She recognized it—it was the command seal for the Jinwu Guard.

"His Majesty wants you to purge the Left Battalion?" Her voice carried a trace of barely concealed tension.

"Not just purge it. He wants me to snatch it from someone else's bowl, scrub it clean, and make it my own." Li Xuan loosened his collar and sat down, pouring himself a cup of tea. The impassioned plea in the Imperial Study had seemed fervent, but it was mentally draining; playing against that old fox was more exhausting than a physical brawl.

Xiao Ning-shuang frowned. "The Left Battalion is notorious for being a disaster. The lieutenants and captains there are deeply entrenched in complex relationships; move one, and the whole body shakes. Both the First and Second Princes tried to intervene and returned empty-handed. You..." She did not continue, but the meaning was clear. This bone was too hard; it would shatter his teeth.

"I know." Li Xuan smiled and drained his tea. "Father has given me a difficult problem, but he has also given me a heaven-sent opportunity. He wants to use me as a blade to cut through those tangled vines, but he also wants to see if my blade is sharp enough to cut his own hand."

The art of imperial governance was nothing more than balance and control.

Xiao Ning-shuang was silent for a moment before walking to a map, her slender finger pointing to a region on the west side of the capital. "The Left Battalion is stationed here, echoing the Western Mountain Garrison outside the city. Its geographic position is critical. The commander, Du Wei, is a sly old fox who has spent twenty years in the military. He is tactful, offends no one, and truly pledges allegiance to no one. Yet, it is said that he takes his real orders from someone else."

"Father told me all of this," Li Xuan said, standing up and walking to her side. His gaze rested on the map, though the faint, cold scent of plum blossoms clung to her. "He gave me three months for a squeaky-clean battalion."

"Three months?" Xiao Ning-shuang looked dazed. "How is that possible?"

"It depends on the effort," Li Xuan’s lips curled into a meaningful arc. "Sometimes, to cut through a tangled mess, you don't need to slice it strand by strand. You just need to find the dead knot and give it a firm tug."

He said no more, but in his calm eyes, Xiao Ning-shuang caught a fleeting, predatory gleam.

The next day, Li Xuan did not make a grand display. Taking only Wang Fugui, he changed into plain clothes and arrived at the Left Battalion’s camp.

The guards at the gate saw their refined attire and did not immediately drive them away, merely asking lazily, "Who goes there?"

Wang Fugui stepped forward and revealed the black-iron token.

The guard’s face went white as a sheet, his hands nearly losing their grip on his halberd. He fell to his knees with a thud. "I—I pay my respects to His Highness the Crown Prince!"

The shout was like a boulder dropped into a calm lake. Soon, the camp was in an uproar. A middle-aged general with a burly frame and a fierce, scarred face, wearing the armor of a lieutenant, ran out followed by a group of officers. It was the commander of the Left Battalion, Du Wei.

"General Du Wei pays respects to His Highness! I did not know you were arriving, and for failing to meet you, I deserve to die!" Du Wei knelt on one knee, his voice booming, his posture perfectly dramatic.

Li Xuan’s gaze swept past him coldly, then moved to the group of officers behind him. Some looked panicked, some curious, but most wore looks of scrutiny and disdain.

"Rise, Commander Du," Li Xuan said, his voice not loud, yet clearly audible to everyone. "I am merely here for a casual look today; there is no need to disturb everyone’s training."

"Yes!" Du Wei stood up, wearing a mask of smiles, while his mind raced. What was this Crown Prince up to? A new official takes office, and instead of holding an assembly, calling the roll, or reading an imperial decree, he comes on a secret visit?

Li Xuan walked through the camp with his hands behind his back. He walked slowly, observing everything with great care—from the soldiers' barracks to their mess hall, from the armory to the training ground. He said nothing; he only watched.

Du Wei followed close behind, sweat already beading on his forehead. The Crown Prince’s gaze was far too calm—so calm it made his skin crawl. It was the feeling of being watched by a venomous snake, never knowing when it would strike.

Arriving at the training ground, two squads of soldiers were sparring. Spears and halberds clashed with shouts, appearing fierce and imposing. Li Xuan stopped and watched for a while, then suddenly laughed.

"A show for appearances."

His voice was soft, but everyone present was a warrior, and they heard him clearly.

The faces of the two squads darkened. A lieutenant with a scar on his face could not help but step forward, grunting, "Your Highness, our brothers have all seen blood on the battlefield; this is no mere show!"

The man was Zhang Tao, Du Wei’s deputy. He was hot-tempered and known as one of the toughest bones in the Left Battalion.

Du Wei cursed him for a fool and was about to snap at him, but Li Xuan waved a hand, looking at Zhang Tao with interest. "Oh? Seen blood? Very well, come and spar with me."

The entire field went silent in shock. Du Wei was terrified, quickly interjecting, "Your Highness is of noble body, this must not happen!"

Zhang Tao was stunned. He hadn't expected the Crown Prince to make such a demand. To fight the Crown Prince? If he won, it was a crime against the Emperor; if he lost, it was incompetence. This...

Li Xuan seemed not to notice Du Wei’s panic. He took off his outer robe, handed it to Wang Fugui, walked into the center of the field, and beckoned to Zhang Tao. "Don't worry. I will not use a weapon, and I will only defend, not attack. If you can make me take a single step back, you win. Not only will you be pardoned for this, but I will reward you with a hundred taels of gold."

The remark was arrogant to the extreme.

Zhang Tao already had a fiery temper. Provoked by Li Xuan, his blood boiled, and he threw caution to the wind. He let out a roar, dropped his spear, and charged with his bare fists!

"Your Highness, be careful!"

He threw a punch, the air whistling as it struck toward Li Xuan’s face. It was a heavy, forceful blow; if it had landed, an ordinary man’s skull would surely have cracked.

However, Li Xuan simply swayed slightly, and the heavy fist brushed past his robes.

Missing his mark, Zhang Tao roared again, his punches and kicks raining down on Li Xuan like a storm. His style was wide and aggressive, a classic military technique that relied on brute force to overcome skill.

But before Li Xuan, it was all a joke.

Li Xuan’s figure moved like a willow in the wind, gracefully weaving through Zhang Tao’s torrential assault. His steps were small, his movements appearing slow, yet he always managed to dodge every attack with the slightest of motions at the most critical moment.

Zhang Tao grew increasingly terrified. He felt as if he were fighting a ghost; no matter how much force he exerted, it was like hitting cotton—every strike fell into empty air. After the time it took to burn a stick of incense, he was gasping for breath, drenched in sweat, yet he hadn't even touched the hem of Li Xuan’s clothes.

In contrast, Li Xuan remained calm and composed, his breathing steady, without even a single drop of sweat on his brow.