THE EMPEROR OF TIME

Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3: THE BEGGAR WHO PREDICTED THE FUTURE

The jade pendant burned against Chen Tianyu’s chest.

For one terrible moment, the battlefield seemed to freeze.

The flames stopped flickering. The soldiers surrounding the command tent became motionless, their swords suspended in midair. Even the screams of the wounded disappeared.

Only Prince Li Chenghao continued moving.

He stared at Tianyu with an expression of absolute horror.

“No,” he whispered again. “This cannot be happening.”

Tianyu clutched the pendant beneath his robe.

“What do you know about this?”

Chenghao did not answer.

Instead, the prince stumbled backward, shaking his head.

“I watched it burn. I watched them destroy it with my own eyes.”

“Who destroyed it?”

Chenghao looked up sharply.

His expression changed.

The fear vanished, replaced by cold calculation.

“Kill him!”

The world erupted into motion.

Three soldiers charged toward Tianyu.

He barely had time to react before Princess Li Xueyan appeared from the darkness. Her sword flashed beneath the firelight, striking the first soldier’s weapon aside. She turned, drove her elbow into the second man’s chest, and kicked the third in the knee.

Within seconds, all three men were on the ground.

“Move!” she shouted.

Tianyu did not argue.

They raced between burning tents while arrows flew overhead.

Behind them, Chenghao’s voice thundered across the camp.

“Do not let the stranger escape! I want him alive!”

Xueyan dragged Tianyu behind a supply cart as a group of soldiers rushed past.

“Who is that man?” she demanded.

“Prince Li Chenghao.”

“I know who he is. Why does he want you?”

“Apparently, my necklace has offended him.”

She stared at him.

“Your necklace?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Then tell it while running.”

She pulled him upright and hurried toward the western edge of the camp.

Tianyu followed, struggling to keep pace.

He was a historian, not a soldier. His knowledge of ancient warfare had never prepared him for the terrifying reality of being hunted through a burning military camp.

They reached a narrow passage between two storage buildings.

Xueyan stopped and listened.

Boots thundered nearby.

She turned to Tianyu.

“If we are caught, Chenghao will torture you until you tell him everything you know.”

“That seems excessive.”

“You have no idea how excessive Prince Chenghao can be.”

“I am beginning to understand.”

She drew her sword.

“Stay behind me.”

Before Tianyu could respond, a familiar voice rang out.

“Princess!”

General Zhao Wuchen emerged from the smoke, blood staining his armor. He carried a sword in each hand, and a deep cut ran across his forehead.

Two soldiers followed him.

“Commander!” Xueyan exclaimed.

Zhao glanced at Tianyu.

“You’re still alive.”

“Disappointed?”

“Annoyed. I ordered you to remain in the command tent.”

“You should have been more specific.”

Despite the situation, Zhao almost smiled.

Then his expression hardened.

“The entire camp is compromised. Chenghao’s men entered through the northern gate, and someone opened the armory from within.”

Xueyan’s face darkened.

“One of your officers?”

“Possibly. We cannot trust anyone until we know who is responsible.”

A loud crash sounded behind them.

Zhao turned.

“They’re coming.”

He pointed toward a narrow path leading into the hills.

“Take the princess and get out of the camp. I will hold them here.”

Xueyan shook her head.

“We are not leaving you.”

“That was an order.”

“And I am not one of your soldiers.”

For a moment, the two stared at each other.

Then Zhao sighed.

“You have always been your father’s daughter.”

He turned to Tianyu.

“Listen carefully, stranger. You claim to know the future. Prove it.”

Tianyu looked toward the hills.

A memory surfaced from his studies.

The terrain east of Chang’an was broken by narrow valleys and steep ridges. During periods of civil unrest, military forces frequently used those routes to approach settlements unnoticed.

But he remembered something else.

A devastating landslide had occurred in the region during the rainy season.

He could not recall the exact date.

He could not even remember whether it happened in the same year.

Yet the hillside ahead looked dangerously unstable.

“How many men can you gather?” Tianyu asked.

Zhao frowned.

“Perhaps three hundred.”

“Can you keep Chenghao’s soldiers away from the eastern road for ten minutes?”

“Why?”

“Because I intend to make the mountain fight for us.”

Xueyan stared at him.

“Have you gone mad?”

“Possibly. But it is the best plan I have.”

Zhao studied his face.

Then he nodded.

“Ten minutes.”

He turned to his remaining soldiers.

“Follow me!”

The general charged back toward the camp, his men following.

Tianyu watched him disappear into the smoke.

Xueyan grabbed his arm.

“You had better explain what you meant.”

Tianyu pointed toward the hills.

“Do you see those dark clouds gathering over the ridge?”

“Yes.”

“And the water running down that slope?”

She glanced at the muddy ground.

“What about it?”

“The soil is saturated. The slope is steep, and the rocks near the top appear fractured. If we can direct the enemy into the narrow valley beneath it, a small collapse might block their advance.”

Xueyan looked toward the mountain.

“You intend to bring down the hillside?”

“I intend to encourage it.”

“That is the most foolish thing I have ever heard.”

“Then you have lived a remarkably fortunate life.”

She glared at him.

But she followed.

The eastern valley was narrow enough for only a few riders to travel side by side.

Rainwater rushed through the center, carrying broken branches and stones toward the lower ground.

Tianyu examined the hillside.

He was not a geologist. His knowledge of landslides came from books, documentaries, and a university course he had taken years earlier.

Still, the conditions looked promising.

If the enemy pursued them through the valley, they might be able to trigger a small collapse by dislodging the loose rocks near the ridge.

He found a fallen tree and began pulling at its exposed roots.

Xueyan watched him with disbelief.

“What are you doing?”

“Preparing our weapon.”

“That is a tree.”

“Excellent observation.”

She drew her sword and pointed it at him.

“One more clever remark, and I will leave you here.”

Tianyu raised both hands.

“Understood, Your Highness.”

Her eyes widened.

“How do you know I am a princess?”

He froze.

Another mistake.

Before he could answer, the sound of approaching horses echoed through the valley.

Xueyan turned toward the road.

“Save your explanation.”

A dozen enemy riders appeared between the trees.

Their leader raised his sword.

“There they are!”

Tianyu looked at the hillside.

Then at the riders.

“Run!”

He grabbed Xueyan’s hand and pulled her toward a cluster of boulders.

The riders surged forward.

Tianyu reached the fallen tree and shoved with all his strength.

It barely moved.

“Help me!” he shouted.

Xueyan understood immediately.

She sheathed her sword, grabbed the exposed roots, and pushed.

Together, they forced the tree sideways.

Its trunk rolled down the slope, striking a loose cluster of rocks.

One rock shifted.

Then another.

A deep cracking sound echoed from above.

Tianyu looked up.

“Oh, no.”

The hillside began to move.

At first, it was only a trickle of dirt and stones.

Then the entire slope groaned.

A wall of mud, rocks, and broken branches surged into the valley.

The riders screamed.

Their horses reared as the ground beneath them disappeared.

Tianyu threw himself behind a boulder, pulling Xueyan down with him.

The landslide thundered past.

For several seconds, the world became a storm of mud and shattered stone.

Then silence returned.

Tianyu slowly lifted his head.

The narrow valley was blocked by a mound of earth and rocks.

The enemy riders had vanished beneath the debris or fled toward the road.

Xueyan stared at the destruction.

“You actually did it.”

Tianyu wiped mud from his face.

“I would prefer not to repeat the experience.”

She looked at him for a long moment.

Then she laughed.

It was brief and unexpected, a genuine laugh that transformed her stern expression.

Tianyu found himself smiling.

For the first time since arriving in ancient China, he felt something other than fear.

Then Xueyan’s expression changed.

“You said I was a princess.”

Tianyu’s smile disappeared.

“Did I?”

“Yes.”

“I might have been mistaken.”

She stepped closer.

“You knew my name before I told you. You recognized Chenghao immediately. You knew the general’s plans, predicted the attack, and now you have brought down a mountain.”

“I did not bring down a mountain. I encouraged a few rocks to relocate.”

She did not smile.

“Who are you, Chen Tianyu?”

He looked away.

That was the question he had been asking himself since the moment he woke beneath the city walls.

Who was he in this world?

A stranger?

A false heir?

A man summoned by prophecy?

Or something far more dangerous?

Before he could answer, a horn sounded from the west.

Three long blasts.

Xueyan’s face tightened.

“General Zhao.”

They hurried toward the camp.

The military camp was a scene of devastation.

Burning tents had collapsed into heaps of blackened wood. Injured soldiers lay beside overturned carts, while survivors carried wounded men toward the river.

The battle was over.

But nobody appeared victorious.

General Zhao stood beside the command tent, speaking to a group of officers.

When he saw Tianyu and Xueyan, he immediately approached them.

“You’re alive.”

“Disappointed?” Tianyu asked again.

Zhao ignored him.

“The enemy has withdrawn. Chenghao escaped with several hundred men.”

Xueyan looked around.

“How many casualties?”

“Too many.”

The general’s voice was heavy.

“We lost nearly six hundred soldiers. Another two hundred are wounded.”

Tianyu lowered his eyes.

He had survived.

But his prediction had not saved everyone.

He wondered how many people would die because of the changes he made to history.

Zhao studied him.

“The landslide was your doing?”

“Partly.”

“You realize the entire valley could have collapsed?”

“Yes.”

“And if the mountain had fallen on your position?”

“I would have regretted my decision.”

Zhao stared at him for several seconds.

Then he laughed.

A deep, unexpected laugh that made the nearby officers turn.

“You are either the luckiest man alive or the most dangerous fool I have ever met.”

“Can I be both?”

“Unfortunately, I suspect you are.”

The general’s amusement faded.

“Chenghao left something behind.”

He led them into the command tent.

On the table lay a small wooden box.

Inside was a black jade tablet.

Tianyu recognized the material immediately.

It was similar to the pendant he carried, except that this tablet had been broken into two pieces.

Nine symbols were carved across its surface.

Beneath them was a short inscription.

Zhao read the characters aloud.

“‘The first traveler has arrived. The second must not awaken.’”

Xueyan frowned.

“What does that mean?”

Tianyu could not answer.

His attention was fixed on the broken tablet.

A memory from the temple returned to him.

The frozen battlefield.

The images of burning cities.

The man wearing the imperial crown who looked exactly like him.

And the mysterious voice announcing that his arrival had been confirmed.

He reached toward the tablet.

The moment his fingers touched the black jade, the pendant beneath his robe pulsed with blue light.

A sharp pain shot through his skull.

Then the tent disappeared.

He was standing in a palace.

Golden pillars stretched toward a ceiling painted with dragons. Hundreds of candles illuminated a vast hall, and a red carpet led to an enormous throne.

A man sat upon it.

He wore a black imperial robe embroidered with golden dragons.

His face was hidden behind a curtain of darkness.

Yet Tianyu recognized him.

The man looked exactly like himself.

Not similar.

Identical.

The emperor slowly raised his head.

“You are late.”

Tianyu tried to move, but his body would not respond.

“Who are you?”

The emperor smiled.

“I am the man you will become.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Everything is impossible until someone changes history.”

The emperor stood.

Behind him, the palace doors opened.

Tianyu saw Princess Xueyan kneeling on the floor, her hands bound.

Blood stained her white robes.

“No!” Tianyu shouted.

The emperor descended the steps.

“You have already begun destroying the timeline. Every life you save creates another life that must be sacrificed.”

He stopped in front of Tianyu.

“Do you know how many people died because you prevented that army from entering the city?”

Tianyu shook his head.

“Thousands.”

The emperor leaned closer.

“And do you know how many more will die when you take the throne?”

The vision began to shake.

Tianyu struggled to breathe.

“Who are you?”

The emperor’s smile vanished.

“I am your future.”

He placed a hand on Tianyu’s shoulder.

“And I have come to warn you.”

The palace erupted in flames.

The emperor’s final words followed Tianyu into the darkness.

“Whatever happens, never allow your father to open the Gate of Time.”

Tianyu awoke on the floor of the command tent.

General Zhao knelt beside him.

“Tianyu! Can you hear me?”

He gasped and pushed himself upright.

Xueyan stood nearby, her face pale.

“What happened?” she asked.

Tianyu looked at the broken tablet.

The black jade was glowing.

He quickly pulled his pendant from beneath his robe.

Its surface had changed.

Nine thin cracks now crossed the dragon’s body.

And beneath the dragon’s head, a new inscription had appeared.

THE SECOND TRAVELER IS AWAKE.

Tianyu stared at the words.

His alternate self was real.

Or at least, something wearing his face existed somewhere in the timeline.

And it had just awakened.

He forced himself to stand.

“We need to leave.”

Zhao frowned.

“Leave for where?”

“Chang’an.”

The general exchanged a glance with Xueyan.

“Why?”

Tianyu looked toward the distant city.

“Because Chenghao was not trying to capture me for the emperor.”

He remembered the prince’s terrified expression when he saw the pendant.

He remembered his words.

That pendant should have been destroyed.

Tianyu finally understood.

The prince knew about the timeline.

He knew someone had traveled through history.

And he feared the jade pendant because it connected Tianyu to something even more powerful than the imperial throne.

“The prince was trying to stop me from reaching the capital,” Tianyu said.

“Why?” Xueyan asked.

“Because someone in Chang’an knows who I really am.”

He looked at the princess.

“And that person has been waiting for me for three hundred years.”

They departed before sunrise.

General Zhao arranged a small escort of twenty soldiers, choosing men whose loyalty he trusted.

Xueyan rode beside Tianyu, while Zhao led the group along the eastern road.

The countryside was quiet.

Villages lay abandoned, their doors broken and their fields neglected. Refugees traveled toward the capital, carrying everything they owned in wooden carts.

Tianyu watched them pass.

In his own time, he had studied the collapse of the Sui Dynasty as a sequence of political decisions, military failures, and economic pressures.

Here, he saw the human consequences.

An elderly man carried a child whose feet were wrapped in torn cloth.

A woman pushed a cart containing two sleeping infants.

A young boy walked alone, clutching a wooden toy.

Tianyu looked away.

He had always believed that history could be understood through evidence.

Now he realized that history was also made of ordinary people who never appeared in books.

“Why are you staring at them?” Xueyan asked.

“Because I know what happens next.”

“What do you mean?”

“The empire will collapse. Rebellions will spread. Powerful men will fight for the throne while ordinary people pay the price.”

Xueyan studied him.

“You speak as though the future has already happened.”

“For me, some of it has.”

She was silent for a while.

Then she asked, “Can you change it?”

Tianyu looked at the road ahead.

“I don’t know.”

It was the first honest answer he had given her.

After several minutes, she spoke again.

“If you truly know what is coming, then perhaps Heaven has sent you to save us.”

Tianyu almost laughed.

Heaven had not sent him anywhere.

He had been dragged through time by a mysterious artifact connected to his missing father.

But he could not explain that.

Instead, he said, “What if Heaven sent me to destroy you?”

Xueyan met his gaze.

“Then I will decide for myself whether you deserve my trust.”

For reasons he could not explain, those words comforted him.

By late afternoon, the walls of Chang’an appeared on the horizon.

The ancient capital rose above the surrounding plains, its towers and watchtowers illuminated by the setting sun.

Tianyu had seen countless photographs of ancient Chinese cities.

None had prepared him for the sight of Chang’an.

The city was enormous.

Thousands of buildings crowded behind its fortified walls, while flags fluttered above the gates. Merchants, soldiers, and travelers filled the roads leading toward the entrance.

Yet something was wrong.

Soldiers had gathered along the walls.

The gates were closed.

A crowd of people had assembled outside the city, shouting angrily at the guards.

General Zhao slowed his horse.

“Why have they closed the gates?”

A rider emerged from the crowd and hurried toward them.

He wore the uniform of the imperial guard.

When he recognized Zhao, he immediately bowed.

“General! You have returned.”

“What happened here?”

The guard hesitated.

“The emperor has issued a decree.”

“What decree?”

The soldier swallowed.

“All strangers entering Chang’an must be examined. Anyone carrying unusual artifacts must be detained.”

Tianyu felt the jade pendant grow warm.

The guard continued.

“The imperial astrologers claim that a man from another age has entered the empire.”

Xueyan looked at Tianyu.

He said nothing.

The guard lowered his voice.

“And there is something else, General.”

Zhao leaned forward.

“Speak.”

“The emperor has been asking for this man by name.”

He turned toward Tianyu.

“Chen Tianyu.”

The world seemed to grow silent.

The guard bowed deeply.

“His Imperial Majesty commands you to enter the palace immediately.”

Tianyu stared at the city gates.

Somewhere beyond those walls sat a man who had been expecting him for three hundred years.

A man who knew about the jade pendant.

A man who might know what happened to his father.

And according to the vision, a man who would eventually become his enemy.

Tianyu tightened his grip on the reins.

Then the great city gates began to open.

A procession of imperial guards emerged, carrying golden banners.

At their center stood an elderly court official dressed in crimson silk.

He approached Tianyu and bowed.

“Welcome to Chang’an, Lord Chen.”

Tianyu frowned.

“Why are you calling me that?”

The official lifted his head.

“Because, my lord, His Majesty has already granted you a title.”

“What title?”

The official smiled.

“Prince of the Hidden Dragon.”

Behind him, a thousand soldiers dropped to their knees.

And from the highest tower of Chang’an, a massive bronze bell began to ring.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

The official’s smile faded.

He looked toward the imperial palace.

Then he whispered words that made Tianyu’s blood run cold.

“The emperor has died.”

Tianyu stared at him.

“What?”

“The emperor died moments ago.”

The official stepped closer.

“And before his final breath, he left one command.”

He reached into his sleeve and produced a sealed scroll.

The imperial seal was still wet with red wax.

The official placed it in Tianyu’s hands.

“His Majesty declared that the man from beyond time must ascend the Dragon Throne.”

Tianyu looked down at the scroll.

His name was written across the front.

But beneath it, in smaller characters, was a sentence that had not appeared on the outside of any historical document he had ever studied.

THE THRONE BELONGS TO THE MAN WHO REMEMBERS THE FIRST WORLD.

He slowly lifted his head.

At the far end of the procession, a young palace servant stood motionless among the soldiers.

The servant wore a plain grey robe.

His face was pale.

His eyes were fixed on Tianyu.

Then the servant smiled.

Tianyu recognized that smile.

He had seen it in the vision.

It belonged to the emperor who wore his face.

The servant raised one finger to his lips.

Silence.

Then he turned and disappeared into the palace.

Tianyu tightened his grip on the scroll.

He had come to the past searching for his father.

Now the emperor was dead, the court wanted him on the throne, and another version of himself was hiding inside the imperial palace.

The future was no longer something he could predict.

It was something hunting him.