Wen Zheng quickly rode hard to the grave of Quan Heng.
His heart pounded furiously the whole way.
Though the road was several dozen kilometers, he galloped the whole way and arrived quickly.
Then, without using any tools, he frantically started digging with his bare hands. Even when his hands bled, he didn’t stop.
At last, he unearthed the coffin and, filled with dread, opened it.
Inside—there was nothing. Completely empty.
He staggered back a few steps, then collapsed in front of the coffin, laughing and crying like a madman.
A nearby guard rushed over in concern, trying to help him up, but Wen Zheng waved him off. “No need. I’m fine.”
Ziyun stood off to the side, eyes wide in shock, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her clothes.
Earlier, when she had unexpectedly run into Wen Zheng, she had been so overwhelmed with joy she hadn’t noticed many things.
But now, seeing his full head of white hair… and this tombstone… her heart was filled with questions she dared not ask. She could only stand there, watching him in silence.
No matter what, at least the Crown Prince now knew that her mistress was imprisoned by Shen Zhengyu. With one more person to help rescue her, that had to be a good thing.
Wen Zheng gripped the edge of the coffin tightly, his hatred for Shen Zhengyu burning in his heart.
He lifted his head and asked Ziyun, “You said Ah Heng let you go. Do you know where she’s being held?”
Ziyun was caught off guard.
Her face turned pale, and she said cautiously, “Actually… I don’t.”
“That day, when I escaped, it was pouring rain. I ran blindly, slipped, and rolled down a hillside. I don’t know how far I fell—I passed out and didn’t wake until the next morning. By then, I had no idea where I was…”
Everything she said was true, and because of it, she felt unbearably guilty.
If she hadn’t gotten lost, the Crown Prince could’ve gone straight to rescue her mistress. Things wouldn’t be so complicated.
Wen Zheng rubbed his temples, feeling a headache come on.
Ziyun and Ah Heng had grown up together. She would never harm her and wouldn’t lie.
But that meant—once again—the trail had gone cold.
A nearby guard glanced at the sky and gently reminded, “Your Highness, it’s time for your meeting with General Zhenbei. Shall we go?”
At those words, Wen Zheng’s heart suddenly skipped a beat. Then he saw the light.
“That’s right. If we can’t find Shen Zhengyu’s lair, then we’ll draw the snake from its hole.”
Wen Zheng wasn’t unaware of what Shen Zhengyu was plotting.
The two of them were twins, after all. There was some unspoken understanding between them.
What Shen Zhengyu wanted was nothing less than to stand at the very top of the world.
Once he had it all, he could have Ah Heng all to himself.
But he was dreaming. As long as Wen Zheng still breathed, he would never hand over that position.
Wen Zheng stood up, mounted his horse, and said, “Let’s go find General Zhenbei.”
Seeing Ziyun still standing there with a troubled face, he said, “Don’t worry. Even if I have to give up my life, I will save Ah Heng. For now, come live at my private residence. When I’ve rescued her, you two will be reunited.”
With that reassurance, Ziyun finally felt at ease. She mounted the horse behind a guard, and the group quietly returned to the city.
***
The Next Morning
Wen Zheng changed into white robes.
White had always been Ah Heng’s favorite on him. Since she left, he had never worn black again.
Thinking of the plans made yesterday with the General, he felt more confident.
This time, he returned to the Eastern Palace of his own accord.
Sure enough, not even half an hour after his return, a eunuch arrived to summon him—his father wanted him in Yangxin Hall.
As soon as he stepped inside, a heavy scent of cosmetics hit him. But beneath it was something else—thick, unmistakable blood.
Wen Zheng instinctively frowned.
Then, a severed head rolled toward him. Looking down—he saw the face of General Zhenbei.
Wen Zheng was stunned and took a step back instinctively.
Seeing his reaction, the Emperor burst into laughter and mocked, “Ah Zheng, did you really think you were hiding well? This past month, scurrying around the capital like a rat—must have been a tough time, hmm?”
He snorted coldly. “You’re my son, and yet you dared defy me—unfilial! You wanted to protect the General, so I killed him in front of you. Let’s see what you do now.”
“You’ll never escape my grasp. Not in this lifetime!”
At those words, Wen Zheng’s eyes turned red, his voice trembling: “Father, the General was a rare and invaluable commander. You know that better than anyone. Why do you insist on wiping him out? Do you know how many ministers you’ve disheartened?”
“You’re the ruler of a nation. Can’t you show a bit more mercy, grant a loyal man a way to live?”
The Emperor exploded in rage. “Ridiculous! This world belongs to me! If I want someone dead—they die!”
Seeing Wen Zheng silent for a long moment, the Emperor looked smug. Wen Zheng’s pale face made his pride surge.
Yes, this son of his was in his prime, and he himself was aging. But still—he was the father. In this world, how could a son ever be above his father?
His gaze fell on Wen Zheng’s head of white hair. The Emperor sneered, “Hah. I never noticed before—you’re actually a sentimental fool.”
“That eldest daughter of the Marquis of Yongning must be dead by now. But don’t worry. You’re still my son. Behave, and I’ll still make you Crown Prince. I’ll grant you a hundred, a thousand beauties. You’ll forget her in time.”
Wen Zheng lifted his head and said softly, “Is that so? Then would you be willing to give me the beauty hidden behind that curtain?”
The Emperor grew alert. “What do you mean?”
Wen Zheng casually drew a sword from the wall and, with a single slash, cut the curtain in half—revealing the woman behind it.
It was the same seductive concubine he’d seen last time.
Without hesitation, Wen Zheng struck again. One blow—and her head fell. Blood sprayed everywhere.
The Emperor screamed, “My beauty!”
Realizing she was truly dead, a wave of fear washed over the Emperor.
Just now, Wen Zheng had been so close. When he killed the concubine, the Emperor hadn’t even reacted in time.
That speed… it was terrifying.
Which meant—if Wen Zheng wanted to—he could take his head at any moment.
For a moment, goosebumps broke out all over him. Trembling, he said, “Zheng’er, what are you doing? Are you… planning to commit patricide?”
In a panic, he slammed his hand on the table and shouted, “Guards! Guards! Seize this unfilial son!”
No sooner had his voice fallen than a line of guards appeared at the door, swords drawn, charging at Wen Zheng.
Wen Zheng let out a cold laugh and quickly engaged them in combat. In no time, the guards were all incapacitated, collapsing to the floor.
At this moment, blood was still dripping from the tip of the sword in his hand. He advanced step by step toward the emperor.
“Royal Father, the last time I was captured, it was because I was gravely wounded. But now, I’m at full strength. Even ten waves of these worthless men wouldn’t be enough to stop me.”
At last, the emperor was truly afraid. But he had reigned for decades—had he ever been so threatened before? Feeling his dignity trampled, he still cursed: “Wen Zheng! Over the years, have I not treated you well? Why are you attempting a coup to seize the throne?”
Wen Zheng sneered. “A coup? How laughable. Go outside and ask—besides those treacherous officials, who truly respects you from the heart?”
“When I was young and you had just ascended the throne, you barely counted as a mediocre but steady ruler. But as the years passed, you became cruel and inhumane. You don’t even blink when killing loyal ministers. You should have abdicated long ago!”
He pointed the sword at the emperor and threatened, “At this point, if you willingly write an abdication edict and pass the throne to me, I’ll spare your life and let you live as the Retired Emperor. Otherwise, don’t even dream of keeping your life.”
Just then, the sound of panicked footsteps came from outside.
Wen Zheng turned his head and saw—it was the empress.
Upon entering and seeing the blood-soaked scene, she screamed, her face going pale with terror.
She staggered in, shouting at Wen Zheng: “Crown Prince, what are you doing?! He is your father! Are you really trying to usurp the throne?”
“No matter what, he’s still your biological father. How can you do something so beastly, worse than an animal?!”
After speaking, she glanced at the terrified emperor, then pulled a dagger from her bosom and lunged at Wen Zheng!
In the next instant, Wen Zheng flicked his sword, and the dagger flew from her hand.
With a clang, it hit the floor—shattering her murderous intent.
She had forgotten—Wen Zheng was a weapon. How could his martial skill be resisted by an ordinary person?
As Wen Zheng walked toward her with his sword raised, the empress fell to the ground, backing away in fear.
“Zheng’er, Zheng’er, I acted on impulse just now. I shouldn’t have tried to harm you. Please, spare me. From now on, your third brother and I will obey your every command without question!”
Wen Zheng looked down on her coldly. “You think you’re worthy of calling yourself my mother?”
“My real mother once treated you as her only friend in the inner palace. Yet you coldly watched as she and the Noble Consort fought each other to the death—and you, the fisherman reaping the reward, became the empress. All these years, you’ve been so smug, haven’t you?”
“You and my father—one hypocritical, one cruel—a perfect match.”
By now, the emperor was utterly terrified. Years of indulgence in beauty had drained his health. Enraged by Wen Zheng, he suddenly coughed up a mouthful of blood.
“Unfilial son… Unfilial son… You’ll be punished for this!”
Wen Zheng raised an eyebrow. “Oh? I wouldn’t dare. Since you haven’t been punished yet, how would it be my turn?”
He no longer wanted to waste words. Wen Zheng walked to the door and fired a signal flare.
Before long, a unit of soldiers broke in—and leading them was none other than General Zhenbei!
Seeing this, the emperor stared at Wen Zheng in horror, then looked at the severed “head of the General” lying on the floor, his face filled with doubt and shock.
Wen Zheng smiled. “Royal Father, you must be very curious. You clearly killed the Northern General—so how is there another one standing here?”
“If you’re curious, why not tear off the human-skin mask on that head and see who it really is?”
The emperor, hands trembling, reached out and found something behind the ear of the severed head.
Peeling away the mask—underneath was the face of the Third Prince.
The emperor staggered back in horror: “How… how could it be Chen’er?!”
The empress saw her son’s severed head and nearly blacked out, screaming hysterically in the hall.
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