It was Ye Jiao.
Having previously assisted in firefighting, she knew where the buckets were, where the water was kept. The moment Li Ce mentioned smoke, she turned and went to fetch them. Two buckets of unused water stood nearby—Ye Jiao carried them over, handing one to Li Ce.
He took it from her and gave her a long, penetrating look. In that single glance lay unspoken understanding and relief, lingering attachment, and the ache of unfulfilled desires. His expression was calm and resolute. With his free hand, he pressed down on a clerk and said,"You—grab Imperial Physician Ye and take her out of here."
The clerk, momentarily stunned, quickly recovered and seized Ye Jiao by the arm, dragging her away.
"You can't do this alone! I'm coming with you!" Ye Jiao struggled, nearly dropping the second bucket of water in her grasp. Li Ce took it from her, saying nothing—offering no explanation or command.
He simply turned and ran toward the warehouse, charging against the current of fleeing bodies, toward the gunpowder that could explode at any moment.
The bucket weighed heavily in his hands, slowing his pace. His bent arms, burdened yet unwavering, were like the bows of Tang's divine warriors—unyielding even in the face of death.
"Your Highness! Come back!" Clerks and craftsmen brushed past him, shouting as they turned to give chase.
"Out of my way!" Li Ce shouted, shoving one aside.
"As long as it hasn't exploded, it can still be saved!"
He didn't waver—his steps only quickened.
The clerk stood frozen, trembling as though struck by lightning, watching Li Ce charge into the warehouse.
But what if—what if it couldn't be saved?
A gunpowder depot explosion would mean, at worst, demotion or exile. But death—death left nothing. No bones, no name, no legacy. Only ash.
Or perhaps… perhaps it could be saved?
The gunpowder was wrapped in fire-resistant cloth. As long as the flames hadn't burned through, there was still hope.
The clerk clenched his jaw, hurled his documents to the ground, and cursed, "Should've checked the almanac before leaving today!"
He sprinted toward the pond, kicking over a fleeing craftsman as he passed.
"The Prince of Chu is fighting the fire! And you're running? You think your life is worth more than his?"
Grumbling, the clerk hauled up two buckets of water.
Even before he could stand, he heard the thunder of footsteps approaching—dozens of men running with buckets in hand. Among them, even the royal astrologer.
"You…" the clerk stammered, scalp tingling, lips trembling. "Do none of you want to live?"
"Quit the nonsense!" someone barked. "Put out the fire in the depot!"
Many had fled the armory, but more were now returning to fight the blaze. Only Ye Jiao remained trapped, her wrist still clutched by that clerk.
She was strong, but how could she match a man who worked daily at the Armaments Bureau?
At last, Ye Jiao's hand found the dagger in her sleeve. She drew it one-handed, the blade flashing as she pressed it against the clerk's chest.
"Let go of me!" she roared, eyes bloodshot, like a woman possessed.
The clerk stammered, terror-stricken, "But—But His Highness…"
"I said let go!" Ye Jiao snarled, driving the blade forward with real intent to stab.
The terrified clerk released her instantly.
Ye Jiao's eyes swept across the passage to the armory's exit. She spotted a bucket, grabbed it, and sprinted inward—only to be stopped again.
A hand seized her official robe, and before she could even turn, another gripped her arm with brute force.
"Get—" Her cry halted mid-sentence.
The man before her wore full ceremonial regalia. His jade-beaded headdress swung violently, and his eyes—deep and chilling—held such authority that for a moment, Ye Jiao thought the Emperor himself had arrived.
But he was younger, his brow sharper, his gaze filled not only with regal command but with an unrestrained edge of fury.
The Crown Prince—Li Zhang.
He looked down at her and shouted, "Imperial Guards of the Sixteen Divisions, Crown Prince's Battalion—put out the fire!"
"Yes, Your Highness!" a thunderous, unified cry erupted. Soldiers surged past on both sides of the corridor.
They were the finest troops of the Tang Empire—disciplined, loyal, resolute. Among them, Ye Jiao spotted a familiar face: Yan Congzheng, the deputy commander.
His face was pale with fury, but his orders were clear and unwavering as he raced past her.
"Let go of me!" Ye Jiao cried, struggling, her grip tightening on the bucket. But Li Zhang's grasp was like iron.
"King Kang said," he said coldly, "it's the gunpowder depot that's burning?"
"Yes!" Ye Jiao exclaimed. "So, Your Highness, let go—I have to help!"
"You'd be throwing your life away," Li Zhang said flatly. "They're already saving it. You stay here."
"No!" Ye Jiao panted, drenched in sweat, her appearance disheveled, but her resolve unshakable. "Prince Chu is still inside!"
Li Zhang's eyes widened in disbelief, his anger intensifying. He took two steps forward, then froze, veins bulging on his forehead as he growled, "He's a fool!"
In that instant, his grip loosened.
Ye Jiao broke free and ran.
He moved to block her. "Are you not afraid of death?!"
Ye Jiao stood amidst the chaos, meeting his gaze without flinching. "I am afraid—but I fear more that he will die."
With that, she turned and sprinted away. Li Zhang remained frozen, hand still raised.
Around him swirled a storm of shouting and movement. But in his eyes, there was only the crimson blur of Ye Jiao's departing robes.
Time passed. How long, he couldn't tell.
At last, he turned and barked at the guards, "What are you doing standing here? Put out the fire! Evacuate the residents nearby! Round up the ones who ran!"
Do something—anything to quiet the storm in his heart.
He strode forward.
"Your Highness—Your Highness!" The Minister of Rites, pale as a sheet, tried to block his path. "You mustn't! Your identity is too precious!"
Li Zhang glanced toward the warehouse—smoke still rose, but clearly less than when they had arrived.
"Step aside!" he snapped. "The gunpowder depot cannot explode! All of you, follow me to fight the fire!"
Though hesitant, the Minister had no choice but to follow.
Other members of the royal clan who had come for the day's ceremony finally arrived. All but the eldest among them followed the Crown Prince toward the warehouse.
Yet before they could reach the clearing, the Imperial Guard blocked their way.
"It is too dangerous inside. Please wait, Your Highness."
Dangerous, indeed.
The fire had started at a window-side pillar, flames leaping to the roof and catching a main beam.
Li Ce rushed in, climbing the high stacks of gunpowder to douse the burning beam with water. It was barely effective. When the water ran out, he stripped off his ceremonial robe, intending to soak it and wrap the powder, shielding it from falling embers.
At that moment, the Armaments Bureau clerks and craftsmen burst in with water buckets. Li Ce's heart surged with warmth. He directed them with urgency.
Choked by smoke and unable to breathe, they managed to contain the blaze.
But it was still unsafe. Li Ce began directing the men to carry the gunpowder out.
As long as it was removed from the flames, the depot itself could burn—it didn't matter.
There weren't many in the bureau—but the Imperial Guards arrived just in time. Undeterred by danger or the smoldering fire-resistant cloth, they fought flames and carried barrels out.
Soon, the powder had been moved to the pondside. Less and less remained inside.
Li Ce finally allowed himself to breathe.
Then he saw her—Ye Jiao.
"What are you doing here?!"
He grabbed the gunpowder from her arms and pulled her toward the exit, his voice trembling with rage amid the crowd.
"Who told you to risk your life?!"
"You did!" Ye Jiao shouted through tears, "You taught me this! To risk everything to save others! In the sea of flames on Mount Li, you came for us; in the caves of Yangquan, you saved refugees; in this depot, you rushed into the fire!"
"You taught me! I used to love comfort, leisure, and pleasure—why did I ever choose to follow your path…"
She broke down, covering her face and sobbing uncontrollably.