Chapter 29: The Taste of Freedom

"Your Majesty worries too much," Zhang Hong said without a trace of concern. As he spoke, he casually shoved his dust-covered hand into his mouth, prompting Fu Shou, standing beside him, to swallow nervously.

A long, piercing whistle followed—a sound that cut sharply through the air. At last, Emperor Liu Xie understood: standing idly in this exposed place with a handful of attendants and horses was indeed dangerous. Clearly, Zhang Hong had anticipated this.

Soon after the whistle faded, Liu Xie heard the hoofbeats he had so longed for. Looking ahead, he saw five sturdy men in plain clothing hurrying toward them from various directions; three of them led spare horses.

Their movements were swift and practiced. In moments, the horses were brought before Zhang Hong. The men seemed to ignore Liu Xie and his party, whether out of ignorance of Liu Xie's identity or because, as sons of Jiangdong, they regarded him as nothing more than a puppet. But this did not trouble Liu Xie. What mattered now was escaping Cao Cao's grasp.

"Enough talk," Zhang Hong commanded. "You five will clear the way ahead. We will ride behind. Avoid all conflict along the road—our only aim is to return to Wu Commandery with all possible speed!"

As soon as he finished, the three men handed the reins to Zhang Hong and the others, then hurried ahead to scout the road. The remaining two stood apart, eyes fixed on the city walls for any sign of trouble.

"Your Majesty, can you both ride?" Zhang Hong asked, the purpose of the two men left behind now obvious: he feared Liu Xie and Fu Shou might not know how.

But Liu Xie knew well that five men each on horseback would be far faster than if two had to be led. "Of course we can," he snapped. "No more delays. If we're discovered now, our cause will be lost before it even begins!"

With that, Liu Xie swung himself onto a horse. Fu Shou followed nimbly, earning from Zhang Hong a measure of newfound respect; he had not expected the young emperor, let alone his empress, to possess such skill.

Liu Xie glanced at Fu Shou, who nodded her assent. He pressed his heels to the horse’s flanks, and the animal leapt forward. Though Liu Xie had learned to ride in this era, he was hardly adept. Yet in his previous life, he had been! During missions deep in the mountains, vehicles were often useless; the people they sought hid in remote forests, and horseback travel was an essential skill—a required discipline.

As sunlight struck his face atop the horse, Liu Xie at last felt himself truly in Han. The cold, empty palace had been Han as well, and he had received the homage of many ministers, but all under the shadow of dread. Now, relying on himself, he had taken his first real step forward. Perhaps he would not reach Wu Commandery safely; perhaps, upon arrival, he would find the same situation as in Xuchang. Yet he did not fear. In his eyes, everything was just beginning.

Liu Xie understood that their mad dash would soon be discovered in Xuchang, and now it was a race against time.

He had placed Lady Liu Bei in a separate, safer carriage—not out of any great regard for the two women, but because he foresaw them as valuable pawns in time, even if their immediate usefulness was slight.

"Sir," Liu Xie said as they galloped, only slowing when Xuchang’s walls vanished from sight, "if Xun Yu is no fool, he will act within two days rather than await Cao Cao’s command. Are you prepared for this?"

"Rest assured, Your Majesty," Zhang Hong replied with perfect composure. "I have made preparations. The route we take is not the shortest to Wu Commandery, but it is the least likely to be discovered. It may be somewhat dangerous, but I promise you will not be disappointed."

Reassured by Zhang Hong’s calm, Liu Xie felt his anxiety ease.

Their packs held food and water. According to Liu Xie’s orders, they would not stop the first day except briefly after nightfall, in a deserted place, to tend to personal needs. This was their golden window: within a day, news of the emperor and empress’s disappearance would fly through Xuchang.

That night, the imperial palace remained as quiet as ever. With only thirty or forty souls in its vast halls, it was the emptiest place in all Xuchang.

The night passed without incident. The next morning, as the court convened, all the ministers gathered in the hall—only to discover that not only was Liu Xie absent, but even the eunuch who usually conveyed word of his condition was missing.

Xun Yu, who governed in Cao Cao’s stead, frowned. Something was amiss. From experience, he knew that any sudden illness of the emperor would first be reported to Cao Cao—if not to him in Cao Cao’s absence. Acting without instruction in such matters was something Cao Cao would never allow.

"Gentlemen, please remain calm," Xun Yu announced with feigned composure. "The emperor sent word last night that he was suffering from a chill. Since he has not come, it must have worsened. Return to your homes—I will visit the palace and convey your concern."

Relieved, the officials quickly dispersed; this was never a place any of them enjoyed lingering.

Once the hall was empty, Xun Yu, accompanied by a few close aides, hastened toward the palace. Outside the gates, the guards stood dutifully at their posts and swore that in over a day, not a soul had left.

This eased Xun Yu’s pounding heart, if only slightly. He ordered the gates opened and strode inside.

In Liu Xie’s palace, it was perfectly normal to walk half the length of the halls without seeing a single soul. At first, Xun Yu thought nothing of it. But as he neared the emperor’s bedchambers and still saw no one, his suspicions grew ever stronger.