amaotonovel Chapter 918: The Fall of Chang'an
Chapter 918: The Fall of Chang'an
On the 25th day of the sixth month of the fifteenth year of the Tianbao reign, the sun had just climbed over Longshouyuan when the Tang flag on the Tonghua gate tower suddenly fell crookedly.
The blood gushing from the throat of Wang Zongsi, the brave and brave captain guarding the city gate, splashed on the door knocker. The copper ring that had knocked on the city gate countless times was now being stepped on by the iron hooves of the rebels and was making a mournful sound.
"The city has been broken--" I don't know who shouted these three words first, but they were like a huge rock smashing into a boiling pot of soup.
Before this, no one had ever thought that the rebels would break into Chang'an, and no one had ever thought that the city of Chang'an would be broken.
Mr. Zhang, the boss of the silk shop in the West Market, had just stuffed the last piece of Shu brocade into the cellar when the Yan army kicked in and overturned the counter.
The leading Jie captain was holding a gilded wine jug, and the wine dripped down his beard onto the Persian carpet. The soldiers behind him were carrying the people's bags on spears, and silk and copper coins rolled out from the torn cloth, mixed with crying and shouting, making a mess on the street.
Inside the Suzaku Gate of the imperial city, Jingzhao Yin Cui Guangyuan was directing the palace soldiers to transport grain and fodder from the palace treasury.
The emperor who escaped from Yanqiu Gate last night only took away the gold and silver from the inner treasury. The 300,000 dan of millet in the Taicang warehouse was still piled up like a small mountain.
"Quick! Burn the account books!" He shouted hoarsely, but saw several soldiers running out with rolls of silk. Suddenly, a rain of arrows from the Yan army shot in from the crack in the door. The arrows that passed through the hall nailed the plaque "The People are the Foundation of the Country". Amidst the flying wood chips, Cui Guangyuan's official hat rolled to the ground.
The bells of Ximing Temple suddenly stopped.
Just as Bukong Sanzang hid the copy of the Diamond Sutra into the belly of the Buddha statue, he saw a dozen Yan soldiers breaking down the temple gate.
They tore down the golden banners before the Buddha and smashed the incense burner with swords. A ferocious-faced general laughed as he stepped on the cushions: "What Buddha or Bodhisattva? They still have to kowtow to the soldiers of Dayan!"
In the kitchen, the novice monks were forced to make fire and cook. The patches on their robes were stained with oil, and the hands that used to beat the wooden fish were now forced to kill chickens and sheep.
The jade steps of the Hanyuan Hall in the Daming Palace were stained with blood. Guo Xi, the nephew of General Guo Ziyi of the Imperial Guard, was tied to a dragon pillar. His Mingguang armor had been hacked to pieces, but he still cursed, "An Lushan's bastard!"
"My uncle will definitely destroy your nest!"
The Yan soldiers guarding him stuffed a blood-stained piece of dragon robe into his mouth. Outside the palace, the cries of the eunuchs could be heard. The eunuchs who usually served the imperial concubine were now being dragged to move the bronze cranes in the palace.
In the alley of the Ye Ting Palace, the palace maid A'man was trembling while holding her dressing box.
Three days ago, she was performing "Rainbow Skirt and Feathered Coat" for His Majesty in the Pear Garden, but now she is being taken away as a trophy by the rebels.
A Hu soldier roughly tore open her skirt, and her exposed shoulder hit the celadon vase in the corner of the wall. It was a luminous vase that was tributed from the Western Regions in the past, and now it shattered into stars on the ground.
In the distance, screams of Crown Prince Li Heng's officials being executed were heard. It was said that they refused to serve in the pseudo-dynasty, so all their heads were chopped off and hung at Xuanwu Gate for public display.
Beside the Chenxiang Pavilion of Xingqing Palace, several wood peonies were gnawed by war horses, leaving only broken branches.
The peonies that Li Longji planted with his own hands have now become stakes for the rebels to tie their horses.
A man who looked like a lieutenant was using his scabbard to pry open the stone tablet on which Li Bai had inscribed his poem. The clerk beside him wrote on a booklet: "The pillars of the Agarwood Pavilion are made of red sandalwood, and the price is three hundred strings of cash..."
Suddenly, there was a commotion from the east. It turned out that Cui Guangyuan came to surrender with the seal of Jingzhao Prefecture. He looked more humble than the flower petals being trampled on the steps as he knelt on the ground.
The red lanterns in Pingkangfang were still swaying, but they could not illuminate the bloodshed in the alley.
The famous prostitute Su Xiaoxiao was dragged by the Yan army leader by her hair as she walked across the bluestone slabs. Her newly bought silver comb fell to the ground, and a few strands of her hair were still tangled between her teeth.
In the Hu Ji Tavern across the street, a pipa was stepped on and broken into two pieces. The Persian proprietress begged for mercy in broken Chinese, but she could not stop the soldiers from snatching the golden hairpin from her head.
An old soldier recognized the painting of "Zhaojun Going to the Frontier" hanging on the wall and spat: "The Hu and Han have been incompatible since ancient times. Why keep this dirty thing!" Then he set fire to the scroll with a fire stick.
In the Imperial College in Chongyefang, classics were scattered all over the floor.
Doctor Zheng Qian tried to rescue the bamboo slips of "Records of the Grand Historian", but was kicked and fell on the stone steps.
The soldiers of the Yan army used the "Book of Rites" as kindling, piled it in front of the statue of Confucius and lit it. The flames licked the plaque that read "Teacher of All Ages", and the crackling sounds were mixed with the sobs of the students.
A young scholar rushed forward to put out the fire, but was immediately pierced through the chest by a spear, and his blood stained the Analects that he had just copied.
The washerwomen by the Yong'an Canal had long since dispersed, leaving only a few discarded children's clothes floating on the water.
A woman holding a baby hid in the reeds and watched the Yan army tie the captured young men into a bunch and drive them towards Luoyang like cattle.
The child in her arms suddenly started crying, and the woman hurriedly blocked the baby's mouth with her nipple, digging her arms deeply with her nails - this was how her husband was taken away three days ago, and he only had time to give her half a wheat cake when he left.
The setting sun at the hour of You dyed the Xuanwu Gate blood red, and An Lushan's yellow flag was finally hoisted on the city wall.
The Jie soldiers drank and had fun in the square, using Tang Sancai camel figurines as wine glasses and dancing on the ground covered with silk paintings.
A man who looked like a minor official came to offer his courtesy, holding up a household registration book, but An Lushan's son An Qingxu kicked it over and said, "The people of Chang'an are all slaves of Great Yan! What's the use of this thing?"
The setting sun passed through the Big Wild Goose Pagoda in Ci'en Temple, casting broken shadows on the ground.
In front of the statue of Master Xuanzang, several surviving monks were quietly packing up scriptures. The cover of one of the books, "A Record of the Western Regions of the Great Tang Dynasty", still had traces of being trampled by horse hooves.
The sound of drums could be heard in the distance, but it was no longer the "dong dong dong" sound of time. Instead, it was the rebels showing off their power by beating the bells and drums of the Tang army. The sound passed through Zhuque Street and through countless closed doors and windows, like a blunt knife, cutting the hearts of every Chang'an citizen.
As the night deepened, sporadic resistance broke out in the alleys.
In an attic in Pingkangfang, former imperial guard soldier Wang Ergou chopped off the heads of two Yan soldiers with a kitchen knife, while his wife lit gunpowder in the stove - that was the fireworks they had planned to set off during the New Year, but now it became a weapon to perish together with the enemy.
The explosion woke up the sleeping neighborhood, and more flames lit up in the darkness, like the eyes of a dying person opening for the last time.
At three o'clock in the morning, the rain finally fell, washing away the bloodstains on the street, but it could not wash away the fishy smell in the air.
In the puddles on Zhuque Street floated broken banners, scattered hair buns, crushed Hu pancakes, and half a manuscript of the poem "Song of Everlasting Sorrow" that had been swollen by rainwater.
In the direction of the Daming Palace in the distance, An Lushan was proclaiming himself emperor in the Purple Palace. His snoring mixed with the crying outside the palace walls, making this imperial capital, which had been prosperous for three hundred years, groan in pain on the rainy night of the fifteenth year of Tianbao.
The rain grew heavier, as if it would drown the entire city of Chang'an. Only the weathered bell tower still stood in the darkness, waiting for dawn—although no one knew how long it would take for the dawn of the Tang Dynasty to arrive.