In the afternoon of the twenty-third day of the eighth month, in the thirteenth year of the Yongzheng reign of the Qing Dynasty (1736 AD), Qing Emperor Yongzheng discussed state affairs with Zhuangqin Wang Yunlu, Guoqin Wang Yunli, Grand Secretaries Ertai and Zhang Tingyu, inside the imperial palace. The meeting lasted from noon until early evening, a full two hours. During the discussion, the Emperor sternly reprimanded Ertai over the unresolved Miao tribal unrest, setting a strict deadline for him to settle the matter properly.
Back at home, Ertai, deeply unsettled by the Emperor's scolding, found himself chewing his food at dinner without tasting anything. After supper, he paced alone in the back garden, unable to devise a perfect strategy to pacify the Miao. Once in bed, he tossed and turned until finally falling into a deep sleep around midnight.
Hardly had he entered his dreams when a servant came rushing in, announcing urgent business from the palace, saying the chief eunuch was already outside. Before the words were fully spoken, a eunuch burst in, panting heavily, unable to bow properly, and stammered:
"Sir, quick... quick! The Emperor has suddenly fallen gravely ill! Please... please come to the palace immediately!"
His frantic expression alone signaled the gravity of the situation. Ertai, not even fully buttoning his coat and still wearing only one boot, rushed out the front gate in three long strides. He kept shouting for his horse as he ran. Not waiting for the groom to bring it, he spotted a mule standing nearby, just unloaded from a coal cart. Without a second thought, he leapt onto the mule, spurred it hard, and galloped like the wind toward the palace. Upon arrival, he dismounted in a flash and sprinted toward Qianyuan Palace.
Entering the chamber, he saw only a few people near the imperial bed, with the Empress already present. She was weeping uncontrollably, saying nothing. When Ertai lifted the imperial canopy and glanced inside, he couldn't help but cry out in shock, "Aiyo!"
Still reeling from the shock, Zhuangqin Wang and Guoqin Wang arrived. Each took a look at the Emperor lying on the bed, and instantly turned pale.
Zhuangqin Wang hastily said, "Quickly lower the canopy and prepare for the Emperor's funeral."
The Empress sobbed, "He was perfectly fine this morning—how could this happen so suddenly?... We must interrogate every palace maid and eunuch one by one!"
Ertai replied, "Your Majesty, the maids and eunuchs likely wouldn't dare such a thing. Let's hold off on that for now. The priority is to designate a successor and stabilize the situation."
By this point, readers must be wondering: How could a seemingly healthy emperor die so suddenly within hours? What mysterious illness claimed Yongzheng's life? Why were the ministers so terrified they couldn't bear to look? The truth might shock you. In fact, Emperor Yongzheng had lost his head in the middle of the night.
So, who was responsible?
Originally, when Yongzheng ascended the throne, the Manchu had only recently unified the country, and Han Chinese resistance remained strong. Added to this, the Emperor himself was a ruthless, autocratic, temperamental, and cunning ruler who established a secret police state. The most unpopular policy was the "literary inquisition"—a large-scale persecution initiated by rulers for perceived offenses in written works. During the reigns surrounding Yongzheng's, there were already dozens of such cases.
In the sixth year of Yongzheng (1728 AD), a scholar named Zeng Jing from Hunan, resentful of Manchu rule and angered by social inequality, in September wrote a detailed letter to Yue Zhongqi, the Governor-General of Sichuan and Shaanxi, urging him to rebel. Yue Zhongqi was then the only Han Chinese commander with significant military power and was also a descendant of the famous general Yue Fei. In the public's mind, since his ancestor was a renowned loyalist who resisted the Jin, his descendant should likewise resist the Qing. Ordinary people thus pinned their hopes of overthrowing the Qing on Yue Zhongqi.
Unexpectedly, Yue Zhongqi proved to be a completely loyal servant. He tricked Zhang Xi, Zeng Jing's student who delivered the letter, into revealing the truth and promptly reported everything to Emperor Yongzheng.
While comforting and praising Yue Zhongqi for his loyalty to the court, Yongzheng ordered the arrest of Zeng Jing and about a thousand others. Under severe torture, they eventually confessed to being influenced by the writings of Lü Liuliang, a man from Shimen, Zhejiang.
Upon hearing that Lü Liuliang had dared to write books opposing the Qing, Yongzheng flew into a rage. Starting from August 12th of that year, the Emperor issued repeated edicts ordering mass executions. However, since Lü Liuliang had already died, his descendants, all book carvers, printers, and even readers, were either executed or exiled. A wave of bloodshed swept through, and everyone lived in fear.
But despite this thoroughness, one oversight occurred: a granddaughter of Lü Liuliang, named Lü Si, who had been fostered with a wet nurse in Anhui, was missed. When her entire family was exterminated, she was only thirteen. Upon hearing the news of her family's slaughter, she fainted. When she awoke, she immediately took a small knife, cut her finger, and wrote eight words in blood: "If I do not kill Yongzheng, I shall die with eyes un-closed."
Lü Simiang (Lü Si's alias), having a fierce and determined character, was consumed by thoughts of revenge. She secretly packed her belongings, left without saying goodbye, and set off alone to assassinate Emperor Yongzheng in the capital. Transportation at the time was extremely inconvenient, so Lü Simiang traveled day and night, braving wind and rain, journeying from Anhui through Henan toward the capital.
One evening, arriving at the foot of White Horse Temple Mountain in Luoyang, Henan, she saw dusk settling, crows returning to their nests, dense forests rising to the sky, and thorny undergrowth covering the ground. The young girl, already exhausted from her long journey, had weak and aching legs. As she walked along the narrow path, she tripped on a stone, fell, and with a "plop," crashed onto a large boulder. Blood immediately gushed out, and she lost consciousness.
When she awoke, she found herself inside the White Horse Temple. A slender, small-statured monk was washing and carefully bandaging her wounds. The fall had been severe, with several places where flesh was torn and bone exposed—her injuries were grave. Yet Lü Simiang bit her lower lip, silent and tearless, earning the monk's secret admiration.
Seeing such a young girl traveling alone at night, the monk sensed she must have a painful secret. Once her injuries improved slightly, he kindly talked with her all night.
Lü Simiang, seeing his benevolent expression and sincere kindness, sensed he was no bad person. She wept as she told him her tragic story and her plans.
The monk said, "The imperial palace is heavily guarded, with elite guards patrolling day and night inside and out. How can a weak, young girl like you succeed in killing him?"
Lü Simiang, her face resolute with the spirit of sacrifice, replied, "If I fail to kill him, I'll simply give my life to him!"
The monk said, "What good is it to go and die pointlessly? Not only will you fail to avenge your family and the people, but you'll also throw away your own life. After that, forget about revenge forever."
Lü Simiang said bitterly, "Man plans, Heaven decides. If Heaven doesn't allow me to succeed in my revenge, there's nothing I can do. But if I live in fear and sneak away, how could I ever face my parents and relatives in the afterlife?"
Seeing the girl's fierce determination, the monk realized she couldn't be easily persuaded. He took her outside, casually picked up a stone, and rubbed it between his hands. Stone dust trickled down through his fingers with a soft rustling sound.
Lü Simiang was startled, realizing she had encountered a master. Ignoring the pain in her wounds, she "plopped" to her knees, bowing repeatedly, desperately begging him to take her as a disciple and teach her martial arts.
This monk was none other than Gan Fengchi, the great Jiangnan swordsman, who, hunted by Yongzheng, had to live in hiding as a monk.
From then on, Lü Simiang lived in the White Horse Temple, diligently training. Gifted and tenacious, willing to endure any hardship, she mastered exceptional martial arts in less than four years.
One day, she was deeply focused on practicing against a wall in the mountains, her short whip flashing like lightning. Just as she was performing well, she heard the sound of hidden weapons slicing through the air. In a flash, five flying darts shot toward her. With a swift "flying eagle turn," she swept her whip, and with a series of "tat-tat" sounds, all five darts fell to the ground. As the darts landed, flying knives followed—this time six, in three pairs aimed at high, middle, and low levels, rushing toward her with forceful wind. Knowing she couldn't possibly deflect all with her whip, she quickly leapt sideways in a "swallow skimming flight," narrowly avoiding the second attack. In the midst of the chaos, she glanced back and saw her master, three zhang away, smiling. He had just returned from practice, holding a single sword. Lü Simiang, suddenly playful, dropped her whip, leapt up, and dove headfirst in a "hawk seizing rabbit" posture to snatch the sword from her master's hand. Gan Fengchi, wanting to test his disciple's true skill, wielded his single sword using the six techniques of thrust, smear, hook, chop, slash, and split, moving like a ball of auspicious snow rolling on the ground. Yet Lü Simiang used empty-hand-against-blade techniques, skillfully sparring with her master for quite a while. Though she couldn't wrest the sword from him, her master also couldn't subdue her.
Gan Fengchi suddenly leapt out of the circle, laughing heartily, "Disciple, your martial arts are now complete. What you lack is merely refinement and experience. As long as you remain cautious and don't overestimate yourself, even several imperial palace masters won't be able to stop you. This scoundrel Yongzheng, though not old, is already past fifty. If he dies of old age, wouldn't that be too convenient for this dog?"
Lü Simiang knew her master had given his approval for her revenge mission. She immediately knelt down, kowtowing to express her gratitude.
The next morning, Lü Simiang disguised herself as a man, dressing as a scholar, bid farewell to her master, and descended the mountain.
Now, back to the reigning emperor. This was already the twelfth year of Yongzheng (1735 AD). Although Yongzheng had achieved significant accomplishments during his thirteen-year reign, he was a usurper—killing his brothers, eliminating loyal ministers, and ruthlessly executing or exiling anyone who opposed him, regardless of rank. One could say his throne was forged in the blood of others. Thus, he himself knew his enemies were countless, and his cruelty would inevitably bring retribution. By the age of fifty, he deeply felt this. On one hand, he intensified his secret police rule and strengthened his personal guards; on the other, he pretended to be a highly skilled martial arts master with supernatural abilities.
One day, Yongzheng went to the Temple of Heaven for a ritual. Just as he stepped out of his carriage, a loud noise came from the top of the altar. The imperial guards around him assumed an assassin had arrived, instantly forming a tight protective circle, surrounding Yongzheng with over seventy or eighty men, sealing him in completely. Only Yongzheng remained calm, merely saying, "Daring thief, just wait until I deal with you!"
He raised his right hand toward the sky. The guards, in chaos, couldn't clearly see what magic he performed. At the same moment, with a "caw," the canopy split open, and a bloody fox fell from above. With a "thud," blood splattered everywhere, and its head rolled away, tumbling noisily.
A guard with exceptional lightness skill had already climbed to the top of the altar to catch the "assassin," but unexpectedly, he was so startled he fell off the roof, only to bounce back up immediately.
All the officials and guards, seeing the Emperor dispatch the fox with a single gesture, severing its head, were utterly awed, kowtowing repeatedly and shouting "Long live!"
Afterward, rumors about Yongzheng possessing swordsmanship capable of beheading people with flying swords spread wildly, becoming more and more fantastical.
In truth, this was merely a small trick by Yongzheng: beforehand, he had instructed his best lightness-skilled guard to catch a fox and secretly hide it inside the canopy. When the Emperor arrived, the guard deliberately made the noise and, at the moment Yongzheng theatrically raised his hand, swiftly cut off the fox's head and threw it down, while pretending to be flustered. Their perfect coordination left everyone convinced. In reality, this pretense was precisely Yongzheng's cowardly reaction to his fear of revenge from his enemies.
Now, back to Lü Simiang arriving in the capital. She first found a quiet inn to stay at, sleeping during the day and sneaking into the palace at night to gather intelligence. By now, her lightness skill had reached its peak—coming like a wisp of smoke, going like a gentle breeze. Within a few nights, she had mapped out Yongzheng's residence in the palace.
At the hour of Hai (9-11 PM) on August 23rd, Lü Simiang, hiding a dagger, concealed herself atop a century-old cypress tree. She saw a eunuch walking ahead with a lantern, followed slowly by five palace maids. She quietly leapt down, took out a handkerchief laced with sleeping powder, stepped forward, and pressed it over the last maid's nose and mouth. The maid instantly collapsed unconscious. Lü Simiang swiftly lifted her behind the tree, stripped off her outer robe, quickly put it on, and after a few leaps, caught up with the others.
These five maids had been sent to serve Emperor Yongzheng in Qianyuan Palace.
That day, Yongzheng's fate was sealed. Seeing Lü Simiang's bright and beautiful appearance, he was delighted and called her into the inner chamber to serve him, sending the other four maids to stand far away.
Lü Simiang, fearing he might recognize her unfamiliar face and grow suspicious, dared not lift her head; Yongzheng assumed she was just shy from youth and didn't mind, merely flirting with her in a playful, undignified manner, completely lacking imperial decorum.
Just as he turned to reach for her, suddenly he felt a kick strike his back. The kick was ferociously powerful, making his internal organs feel as if they were being inverted. Stars flashed before his eyes, and unbearable pain coursed through his body. He collapsed to the ground, completely unable to utter a sound. Lü Simiang casually lifted him onto the imperial bed. Yongzheng forced his eyes open and saw her, her willow-like eyebrows arched in anger, phoenix eyes wide open, her gaze seemingly spitting fire.
She whispered fiercely, "Old villain Yongzheng, let you die as an enlightened ghost. I never change my name or hide my identity—I am Lü Simiang, granddaughter of Lü Liuliang. Today, I've come specially to take your dog's head, to avenge my family and the murdered common people!"
Kicked in a vital acupoint by Lü Simiang, Yongzheng felt excruciating pain throughout his body, as if countless venomous worms were gnawing at his heart. Sweat poured down, and he was completely paralyzed.
Lü Simiang originally wanted to make him suffer more, but fearing delay might jeopardize the mission, she "whooshed" out her dagger, tore open his upper garment, and with a deep cut to the chest, first ripped out Yongzheng's heart. Then, with one stroke, she severed his head, placing it in a leather pouch. Quietly opening a back window, she leapt onto the roof and floated away like a gust of wind.
Although the outer courtyard of Qianyuan Palace was filled with guards, not a single one was aware.
After Qianlong ascended the throne, unwilling to admit his father had lost his head, he secretly sent people everywhere to search, but found no trace. He had no choice but to cast a golden head and bury it in the Tailing Mausoleum.
Thus, this tyrannical ruler found his final resting place.