On the Day of My Defense, I Poisoned Emperor Taizu of Song

Falling. Weightless. The stench of rust, sweat, horse manure, and blood flooded my nostrils.

I opened my eyes. A low wooden shed. Snowlight leaked through the cracks in the boards. Four men in military uniforms were snoring. A rusty spear leaned against the wall.

I reached for my waist. The Songyuan Tongbao coin I’d bought at a flea market was still there. Cold, its edges worn smooth.

It was the third day of the first month of the year 960. Chenqiao Post Station. I knew that in two hours, Zhao Kuangyin, Commander of the Palace Front Division, would be draped in the yellow robe and establish the Great Song.

What I didn’t know was why I was here.