(2) Hell on Earth

After a night of heart-stopping terror, dawn's first faint light finally broke, and the chaos and clamor began to settle into something resembling stillness—though in the distance, some indistinct commotion still lingered, an odd counterpoint to what should have been the start of another busy day.

Guo Huilian had spent the entire night hidden in the tree, not daring to move a muscle. The Jingyuan soldiers who had invaded the Guo residence had largely dispersed by the first watch of the night, but perched as high as she was, every sound within several li still reached her ears with perfect clarity, and terror kept her curled up tight against the branch. October had already given way to early winter, and the night air carried a piercing chill—no matter how tightly she drew herself in, she could not keep that bone-deep cold at bay. Cold and hungry as she was, fear overshadowed both sensations entirely; in the face of such terror, every other feeling shrank to nothing, even vanished from awareness altogether. She could only weep, her tears drying and then welling up again, her whole body shaking with sobs that refused to subside. Though she was only twelve, she understood well enough that her family had almost certainly met a terrible fate. If anyone had managed to survive by some stroke of luck, surely some small sound would have reached her by now? The Jingyuan troops had withdrawn from the Guo residence by roughly the first watch, and through the whole long night that followed, not a single footstep, not a single voice had stirred—the entire residence lay in pitch darkness, silent as the grave, with only the disturbance out on the streets of Chang'an beyond the walls breaking the stillness. And so she dared not climb down, remaining instead in the tree, keeping company with nothing but fear and helpless uncertainty.

As dawn's light gradually brightened, Guo Huilian's view from her high perch grew steadily clearer. Looking out, she saw the entire Guo residence strewn with corpses, scattered every which way, the devastation total. She wept a good while longer before finally deciding to climb down from the tree. She crossed through the garden toward the main courtyard, stepping around the bodies of a dozen or so servants and maids scattered across the grounds, and crossed the threshold into the main hall—where the first thing she saw was her mother's body lying before her. Blood covered every surface, inside and out. Her mother lay in a pool of blood already dried, her eyes wide open, seeming to hold nothing but frozen terror within them. Guo Huilian had no room left to hesitate; barefoot, she stepped straight into the frozen pool of blood and ran to her mother's side.

"Mother... Mother..." Guo Huilian cried out, sobbing. At an age when she should still have known nothing of the world's cruelty, carefree and untroubled, she instead found herself alone, facing the devastating truth that every one of her closest kin had perished overnight, the entire household wiped out. There was nothing left in her but sheer panic and helplessness. Trembling all over without even realizing it, she sank down and shook her mother's hands with both of her own—even though her mother could never answer her again. She wept and cried out for a long while before slowly rising to her feet. She wanted to find her father; after searching the main courtyard without finding Guo Sheng, she made her way toward the courtyards where her brother and sisters lived.

But reality proved cruel as ever. Passing through the ornately carved corridor, she found Guo Sheng's body covered in sword wounds and gaping bloody gashes, his blade fallen to the ground, lying beside his eldest son by one of the corridor pillars. It appeared that Guo Sheng had spent his very last breath trying to shield his eldest son Guo Qing's life with his own body. But he could block one blow, two blows—not the endless, relentless killing that followed. Father and son had both perished there together, one after the other. Seeing this, Guo Huilian could not help but break down in fresh, anguished sobs—these were her father and eldest brother, the two who had loved her most dearly in all the world! Guo Qing had already had his wedding date set, and after the new year he was to take up his post in the Left Guard among the Sixteen Guards—he had been right on the brink of starting a family and a career of his own, and yet, as fate would have it, what should have been joyous occasions had all turned to funerals instead. Guo Huilian's legs suddenly gave way beneath her, and she collapsed to the ground, yet still forced herself to crawl onward. She crawled through the bloodstains, her whole body smeared filthy, still struggling with all her strength to reach her father and brother.

"Father... Elder Brother..." Guo Huilian finally managed to crawl close, gripping Guo Sheng's hand with one hand and Guo Qing's with the other, feeling a pain in her heart so sharp it was unbearable, tears sliding down her face, down through his heart as well, until at last she reached a state of complete, blank incomprehension.

And why shouldn't she feel lost in blank incomprehension? She did not know what she could possibly have done wrong to deserve such punishment. If she hadn't hidden up in that tree, and had died alongside everyone else instead—would she feel any less lost now?

She did not know.

Guo Huilian sat numbly beside the bodies of Guo Sheng and Guo Qing for a long while before finally rising again and making her way toward the courtyards where her other brothers and sisters had lived. By now, she already understood in her heart that no miracle would appear today—she simply wanted to see each of them one final time.

Everything unfolded exactly as she had feared. The Jingyuan troops had ransacked every chest and cabinet, sparing not even the wardrobes or the space beneath the beds, sweeping through like a plague of locusts, stripping away every last piece of gold, silver, and jewelry, sparing not even human lives. Guo Huilian found each of her brothers and sisters in turn, offering each a token gesture of farewell, before finally making her way back to the Locust Garden by the western wing. Her heart was consumed with deep guilt toward Xiaocui—if only she had insisted on pulling Xiaocui up into the tree with her, might Xiaocui have escaped this catastrophe too? She kept blaming herself relentlessly, so much so that she could not even summon the courage to look upon Xiaocui's body—the very girl who had accompanied her like a sister since childhood, whom she had watched die simply because she hadn't insisted firmly enough. She could hardly forgive herself. Standing beneath the locust tree, gazing toward the room within for a long while, she finally broke down in tears once more.

"Xiaocui, I'm sorry..." she murmured, over and over, though no amount of tears could ever wash away the guilt weighing on her heart.

"Xiaocui, I'm sorry..."

She had no idea how much time had passed like this, when sunlight, now nearing midday, began filtering down through the sparse, thinning branches of the locust tree, falling across her lashes and making her look up instinctively. Amid the confusion, grief, helplessness, despair, and utter uncertainty about what to do next, a single thought suddenly flashed through her mind: more than two years ago, a boy named Tian Xu had given her a small stone seal here in this very spot, promising to help in any moment of true crisis or urgent need—all she had to do was bring the seal to the Four Seas Inn and find Steward Han, and he would honor his promise. She herself had been the one to hide that seal in the hollow of this very locust tree! At the time, she hadn't thought much of it at all, and as the days passed, she had simply forgotten about it entirely. Though over these past two-plus years, Zhenbao Tower had indeed sent her the promised preserved fruits time and again, relying solely on the life-saving debt her father had earned all those years ago—could he really be counted on to honor a promise of help in a moment of true crisis and desperate need? Especially now, in a Chang'an thrown into such utter chaos, how much could he possibly do to help her?

Guo Huilian had no more room to think it over. The situation before her was simply too dire—how was she supposed to face it, to somehow pick up the pieces? This hardly seemed like something a mere twelve-year-old girl could manage entirely on her own. And so she climbed the tree once more, retrieving the stone seal from its hollow. Fortunately, just as Tian Xu had predicted back then, it remained perfectly intact. She brushed the dust from its surface, and as sunlight fell across it, the character "Xu" came into clear view. Her father and mother had taken her to the Eastern Market several times before, passing through the inn district along the way, and she still vaguely remembered how to get there—though now she would have to make the entire journey on foot alone. It was quite a distance, but she had no other choice; all she could do was set out and try. And so Guo Huilian clutched the stone seal tightly in her palm, walked out of the Guo residence, and set off toward the Four Seas Inn.

By now, Guo Huilian was both famished and parched, yet the streets stood utterly deserted. Some households had their doors flung wide open, others sealed shut tight; most of the streets near the Guo residence had their doors standing open, and Guo Huilian guessed that those households, too, had probably met the same fate as her own—everyone dead, with no one left to bother closing their doors. The thought brought fresh tears to her eyes once more...

The once bustling, lively streets of Chang'an now lay in complete, deathly silence. Guo Huilian wanted to ask someone for food, but found no chance to do so at all—even those who had survived now moved about like startled birds, jumping at every shadow; who would spare a thought for anyone else? Guo Huilian felt the road ahead stretching out endlessly uncertain—would the Four Seas Inn really show her any kindness, would it truly help resolve this desperate crisis of hers? She wasn't sure, but she had no other option, and could only keep moving forward. Along the way, the occasional sound of hoofbeats or voices reached her, and she instinctively ducked for whatever cover she could find each time. From the previous night up until now, she had lived through the most wretched, most harrowing hours of her entire life, and Guo Huilian already felt herself on the verge of collapse—her head spun faintly, her legs felt weak beneath her, her heart raced, and her whole body ached with a discomfort she could not put into words.

She had just ducked aside to avoid a passing carriage when, to her astonishment, a familiar voice suddenly reached her ears.