Spring passed into autumn. Unknowingly, the second prince had served as regent for nearly four months.
He might not have been exceptionally gifted, but to act as regent required no rare talent, only steadiness, a sense of responsibility, and a heart that cared for the people. The ministers could handle the rest.
Emperor Zhaoning’s illness remained unchanged, though his temper worsened as he lay bedridden.
He would often lash out at servants, and showed no kindness even to the concubines who tended him.
Consort Xian managed the harem. Hearing the young concubines’ complaints, she felt pity but could do little, after all, serving the emperor was their duty.
She had tried to seek out Consort Shu, hoping she could help persuade the emperor.
But ever since the second prince had been made regent, Consort Shu had claimed illness and stayed confined in Shuhua Palace, resting daily and refusing to step outside.
Consort Xian understood, this was Consort Shu’s way of yielding.
Now that the front court was controlled by the second prince and the inner palace by herself, the realm was nearly theirs in all but name.
If Consort Shu were to seek the emperor’s favor again now, it would only make her an eyesore.
To retreat at the height of favor, Consort Shu was a clever woman.
As Consort Xian idly toyed with the smooth red agate beads in her palm, she thought, at least she’s smarter than her son.
Considering they were all old acquaintances from the household, Consort Xian was willing to spare Consort Shu’s life, let her live out her remaining days in peace.
So long as Consort Shu didn’t act foolishly.
Consort Xian silently prayed. Zheng Yuerong, don’t be foolish.
—
The autumn wind rose in the eighth month; the chrysanthemums were crisp and cool. Beneath the bright, round moon, another Mid-Autumn Festival arrived.
On such a festival, the common folk outside the palace reunited with their families, while inside the palace, the imperial banquet was as grand as ever.
Though half of Emperor Zhaoning’s body was still stiff and unmoving, in order to prove to his courtiers that the emperor was still “present,” he insisted that four eunuchs carry him to the main seat of the Taiji Hall.
He wore a brand-new crimson brocade robe embroidered with coiling dragons and a golden crown on his head, yet none of it could conceal the sickly pallor on his thin face.
The civil and military officials attending the banquet looked first at the Emperor seated above, then at the vigorous and robust Second Prince beside him. Inevitably, a sigh rose in every heart: The emperor is truly old now.
Old, so he should also retire.
But power intoxicates; once one has tasted the sweetness of holding authority, letting go becomes harder than ascending to the heavens.
Each courtier harbored his own thoughts, wondering when His Majesty would finally be willing to hand over power completely to the Second Prince and how he planned to deal with the Crown Prince of the Eastern Palace.
That unfortunate Crown Prince, most of his life he’d been controlled by his father, no more than a chess piece toyed with in the Emperor’s palm. Thinking on it, it was truly pitiful.
Inside the hall, the music and dance were elegant, the officials toasted one another, everything seemed as leisurely and pleasant as usual—
Until shouts suddenly rang out from outside:
“Fire! Fire—there’s a fire!”
The hall fell into alarm.
Emperor Zhaoning’s mouth twisted to one side; he tried to give orders: “Wha… what’s…”
He could still speak, but not quickly, if he hurried, his words became garbled, and soon drool was slipping uncontrollably from the corner of his mouth.
The chief eunuch hurried forward to wipe it: “Oh, Your Majesty, please don’t be anxious.”
At that moment, the Second Prince rose to his feet. His tone was solemn, yet calm: “What’s happening outside?”
Soon a eunuch stumbled in, breathless: “Your Highness, there’s a fire at Anli Gate, flames shooting into the sky!”
The Second Prince frowned and quickly sent guards to investigate, then reassured those in the hall, “Do not panic. Anli Gate is at the northeast corner, it cannot reach here.”
Seeing the Second Prince composed in the face of crisis, the officials gradually calmed as well.
But not long after, a rumbling commotion like distant thunder rolled from outside, accompanied faintly by the sound of horses’ hooves.
The hall fell silent. How could there be horses galloping within the inner palace? Who would dare?!
Before they could make sense of it, a roar of killing rose beyond the hall—
“Purge the traitors! Cleanse the Emperor’s side!”
“Purge the traitors! Cleanse the Emperor’s side!!”
The shouts were uniform, thunderous, and left everyone in the hall stunned.
What traitors? Cleanse which side of the Emperor?
Moments later, the Commander of the Imperial Guards rushed in, dropped to one knee, and reported: “Reporting to His Majesty and Second Highness, the Third Prince has brought elite troops, set fire to Anli Gate, and surrounded the Taiji Hall!”
The Third Prince?
Had he gone mad?!
Everyone gasped and then wondered, Where did the Third Prince get soldiers?
The Imperial Guards were under the Second Prince’s control, and the Ministry of War still followed direct imperial orders. Though a grown prince could keep two thousand personal guards, with merely two thousand men, how could he create such chaos?
Emperor Zhaoning slumped in the dragon throne, hand trembling as he pointed outward: “T–traitor… treacherous son…”
“Your Majesty, please calm yourself.”
From below, Pei Xia set down his cup and stood, bowing toward the Emperor before turning to the Chief Eunuch Feng An: “Chief Feng, please take utmost care of His Majesty.”
Feng An repeatedly assented, signaling the guards to close in and protect the Emperor.
At a measured distance, Pei Xia gave the Second Prince a slight nod.
The Second Prince understood, straightened, and addressed the Commander of the Imperial Guards sternly: “Go at once and ask, what does Sima Ze intend? On a day like this, bringing armed troops into the palace, does he mean to rebel?!”
As his words fell, the clash of weapons resounded outside.
The Third Prince strode in, clad in golden armor and wielding a longsword.
To his left, in silver armor, stood Xie Wuling; to his right, a broad-faced general unfamiliar to most but someone soon recognized him: the eldest son of the Military Commissioner of Longxi, He Chongwen.
Behind the three of them marched hundreds of elite soldiers in silver armor, broad-shouldered, powerfully built, their blades already stained with blood that dripped steadily onto the scarlet-patterned carpet.
Faced with such a fierce sight, the officials, their wives, and the princesses screamed in terror and scrambled to hide behind pillars.
Even the Second Prince’s eyes flickered briefly with panic, but seeing Pei Xia approach with measured steps steadied him. He raised his voice: “Protect His Majesty and Consort Xian!”
Then he stepped forward and glared at the Third Prince. “Third Brother, what are you doing?!”
Having come this far, the Third Prince had already staked everything, leaving no retreat. His gaze toward the Second Prince was filled with undisguised hatred and cold ferocity.
“Sima Jin, you despicable villain, taking advantage of Father’s illness, you and that treacherous Pei Shouzhen have conspired to deceive him and seize the Regency! Today I shall uphold Heaven’s will, cleanse the court, and rid it of you two traitors!”
The Second Prince let out a cold laugh. “You truly excel at twisting right and wrong. His Majesty is right here, if you’ve any grievance, ask him directly. Let’s see whether it is I who have deceived him, or you, the wolf-hearted son, who dares commit regicide and usurp the throne!”
“Of course, I’ll ask Royal Father myself.”
The Third Prince spoke in a cold voice, his gaze sweeping indifferently over the gathered ministers. “Everyone stay put. If anyone dares disobey, I don’t mind pulling one out and killing the chicken to warn the monkeys.”
As soon as he finished, the silver-armored soldiers all drew their blades in unison, the gleam of steel sharp and oppressive.
With troops under his command, the Third Prince looked upon those in the hall as though they were swine and dogs. Calm and composed, he ascended the steps and fixed his bright, burning eyes upon Emperor Zhaoning seated above, bowing low. “Royal Father, your son arrived late to rescue you. I beg Your Majesty’s forgiveness.”
Emperor Zhaoning and Consort Xian were shielded by the Dragon Shadow Guards. The Emperor’s drooling mouth twitched, his eyes full of fury. “Trai… traitorous son…”
The Third Prince’s expression darkened; he slowly lifted his eyes. “Royal Father, you truly are muddle-headed.”
“Your son has ever been loyal and devoted. Today I come only to set things right, to restore the order that the court ought to have.”
“As long as you give the word, I will immediately execute Sima Ze and Pei Shouzhen, those treacherous villains, to purge the chaos and revive the realm!”
He spoke while staring straight at the Emperor on the throne, his bright eyes brimming with blazing ambition—and also a trace of expectation, of entreaty. “I ask that Royal Father permit it.”
But as Emperor Zhaoning looked at him, sorrow and pity slowly surfaced between his brows. “Old Third… you have truly disappointed Zhen.”
The expectation in the Third Prince’s eyes shattered like bubbles, replaced by a cold, bitter unwillingness and murderous intent.
“It seems Royal Father’s illness runs deep.”
His tone was flat. Turning toward the officials in the hall, he declared loudly, “His Majesty is gravely ill and his mind unclear. As his son, I am duty-bound to uphold the realm. Now the Second Prince, Sima Ze, and the Hanlin scholar Pei Shouzhen conspire together, seeking to deceive the throne and steal the foundation of the nation. I act under Heaven’s will to slay these two traitors!”
“Men, seize them!”
Weapons were forbidden at court banquets, so aside from the Third Prince’s soldiers, the others were as helpless as lambs to the slaughter.
Xie Wuling advanced slowly, solemn-faced, gripping his blade. Step by step, he approached Pei Xia, who wore a crimson official robe.
Half a year had passed since their last meeting and still, the sight of each other was mutually loathsome.
When Xie Wuling pressed the sword to Pei Xia’s neck, he lowered his voice and said, “Blades have no eyes. You’d best know when to yield, I don’t wish to stain myself with your blood.”
Pei Xia regarded the tall man before him, clad in heavy armor, exuding fierce authority, his pale, cold face as calm as ever. “I don’t wish to stain myself with yours, either,” he replied evenly.
Xie Wuling’s lips curled faintly. “Facing death, and you still put on airs.”
Pei Xia let himself be pushed forward through the hall. “Xie Wuling, if you turn back now, it may not be too late.”
“Pei Shouzhen,” Xie Wuling said icily, “it’s my blade at your throat.”
Pei Xia said, “Do you understand that what you do today is high treason?”
Xie Wuling’s brow twitched, his long lashes lowering. “Victory crowns the king, defeat buries the bandit. Once the Third Prince ascends the throne, this will be recorded as a great deed in service to the dragon.”
“A deed in service to the dragon?”
Pei Xia let out a soft, derisive laugh. Tilting his head slightly, his cool eyes glanced at him. “Then guess, if Yuniang were to learn that your power came from rebellion and blood, even if you held the empire in your grasp and I died here, would she ever consent to marry a traitor whose name will reek through the ages?”
The cold bite of those words ignited fury in Xie Wuling’s chest.
His grip tightened on the hilt, the sharp edge bit into Pei Xia’s neck, carving a fine line of blood.
“Pei Shouzhen, do you even know how infuriating your superior tone is?”
Xie Wuling gritted his teeth. “If not for the debt you’re owed for saving Jiaojiao, and for being Di Ge’er’s father, I’d have cut out that tongue of yours and fed it to the dogs!”
Pei Xia gave a cold laugh. “How coincidental. I’ve long wanted to sew up that mouth of yours, so you’d live out your days as a mute.”
Their gazes locked, sharp as blades, heavy with killing intent.
In the end, Pei Xia and the Second Prince were brought before the Third Prince.
Xie Wuling forced Pei Xia to kneel, but Pei Xia’s back remained straight, he refused.
The Second Prince too would not kneel; standing tall, he spoke earnestly, “Third Brother, we are of the same blood, why must it come to this? Do not persist in your delusion, committing one mistake after another.”
The Third Prince cast him a cold glance. “At this point, what need for such hypocritical talk? It only sickens me.”
After a moment’s thought, he sneered. “If you’re willing to kneel and acknowledge me as your lord, for the sake of brotherhood, I could spare your life.”
After all, the infamy of fratricide was hardly pleasant to bear.
Seeing that he remained utterly unrepentant, pain flickered across the Second Prince’s face. “Third Brother, what you’ve done wounds not only Royal Father’s heart, but also that of your Royal mother, Consort Shu.”
At the mention of Consort Shu, the Third Prince’s eyes flickered but quickly hardened again. “Enough of your sanctimonious drivel. I’m not buying your false righteousness.”
“I’ll count to three. If you still refuse to kneel, don’t blame me for being ruthless even as your younger brother.”
“Three…”
“Two…”
The Third Prince raised his hand. As he uttered the final count, his gaze fell upon He Chongwen, the nephew of the Military Commissioner of Longxi, who was restraining the Second Prince. “One.”
He Chongwen’s brow arched, the muscles in his sword arm tightening.
A sharp whoosh split the air.
A burst of crimson sprayed before the Third Prince’s eyes—
—but the man who fell was not the Second Prince.
It was He Chongwen.
A crossbow bolt, seemingly fired from the shadows, shot straight through his throat.
The long sword clanged to the ground as he collapsed, eyes wide in death’s refusal.
Warm blood spattered across the faces of the Second and Third Princes.
The chaos came too fast. Before the Third Prince could even react, another bolt flew, this time striking his right knee. Pain shot through him, and he collapsed, one knee kneeling before the Second Prince, as though paying fealty.
“Your Highness!” Xie Wuling froze, still holding the sword at Pei Xia’s neck, the blade pressing deeper.
The Second Prince’s brows furrowed. “Shouzhen.”
Pei Xia’s expression remained calm as he looked at the Second Prince. “Your Highness, attend to what you must. My personal grievances with him, I shall handle myself.”
The Second Prince’s heart stirred with unease; he could not approve.
Pei Xia often said he was indecisive, yet here, in contrast to Xie Wuling, the indecision clearly lay with Pei Xia himself.
Originally, the first arrow was meant for He Chongwen; the second should have pierced Xie Wuling but Pei Xia pleaded for mercy, to spare Xie Wuling’s life.
“Xie Wuling, if you harm Shouzhen even slightly, I will tear you limb from limb,” the Second Prince warned grimly.
With that, hidden guards concealed throughout the palace surged forth like a tide. Amid the terrified screams of the hall, countless arrows whistled like wind and rain, striking the throats and chests of the silver-armored soldiers.
Blood dyed their armor crimson, like strange, blooming flowers in snow.
When Xie Wuling had broken through Anli Gate, he already sensed an eerie smoothness to the battle.
But the Third Prince, now bloodied-eyed with frenzy, having entered the Imperial City, had no path of retreat, though he knew the abyss ahead, he pressed onward.
And indeed, his instincts were correct: this was a trap, a calculated lure.
Pei Xia could distinctly feel the heavy breath of the man behind him. He lowered his gaze and said calmly, “You could kill me now if you wish.”
“Shut up!”
Xie Wuling gritted his teeth, breathing heavily like a cornered beast, watching the soldiers they had entered with fall one by one. Corpses piled within the gilded hall, the blood brightening the red floor coverings beneath.
His heart pounded as he gripped his sword tightly, unable to resist asking hoarsely, “Pei Shouzhen, why do you spare me?”
Pei Xia’s eyes flickered slightly.
Xie Wuling was indeed clever.
But clever men serving the wrong master, brilliant yet powerless, were wasted talents.
A thoroughbred horse without a discerning owner, truly one of life’s great misfortunes.
“I did intend to kill you.”
Pei Xia’s gaze remained indifferent as he watched the Dragon Shadow Guards execute the rebels one by one and saw the Third Prince led by the Imperial Guards before Emperor Zhaoning.
“But I promised Yuniang to spare your life.”
For a moment, the blade at his neck froze.
Pei Xia’s chest swelled with an uncontainable resentment. He did not look back, but he knew that Xie Wuling, at this moment, must be feeling exultant.
His wife, Pei Xia’s wife, was concerned about Xie Wuling’s life…
The hatred in his chest churned like glacial waters and burning fire alike. He exhaled deeply twice, forcing down the wild, growing bitterness.
Or, more precisely, jealousy.
He was so jealous of Xie Wuling, even though today he, Pei Xia, was the victor.
“Jiaojiao… Jiaojiao…”
Xie Wuling’s throat caught, and a heavy nasal tone crept into his voice. “She begged you?”
Pei Xia finally turned his head.
The blade cut again along the wound, yet he felt no pain. His dark, cold eyes locked onto Xie Wuling. “I said, you are not to call her that.”
Xie Wuling, watching the blood running from Pei Xia’s neck, gritted his teeth. “Let me call her as I please. Kill me if you dare, just kill me!”
“Do you think I don’t want to?”
“Then do it!”
“Xie Wuling, don’t push your luck.”
“Pei Shouzhen, don’t get carried away.”
The one holding the blade shouts to kill, the one at sword’s edge snarls to stay restrained. The scene is absurd, almost grotesque.
The ministers and officials dared not breathe.
Emperor Zhaoning, observing the chaos, frowned. “What grudge exists between these two?”
The Second Prince answered awkwardly, “Some personal enmity.”
The Emperor’s gaze fell on Xie Wuling’s face, displeased. “Kill them both, then.”
Consort Xian’s breath caught.
She wanted to intervene but feared stirring the Emperor’s suspicion, so she restrained herself, signaling subtly to the Second Prince.
He understood and stepped forward, shielding the Emperor’s view. “Royal Father, the ministers remain. How should we deal with the Third Prince?”
The Emperor’s attention shifted from the two below to the Third Prince before him.
His most favored son now stared at him with eyes full of unwillingness, resentment, and rage. A flicker of melancholy and sorrow appeared in the Emperor’s sharp gaze.
He sighed. “Old Third, you truly disappoint Zhen.”
The Third Prince smiled. “Royal Father, when have you ever expected anything from me?”
“Ever since you allowed Sima Jin to govern, I knew I had become a forsaken son.”
“And now, this whole scheme to lure the ruler into a trap only confirms my suspicions. Royal Father, you need only one son. For that son, I, the Crown Prince, and the rest of us are merely discarded pieces, stepping stones for others to trample on.”
“But I cannot accept it. I truly cannot. How am I any less than Sima Jin? Royal Father, you once favored me so, and I have sincerely respected and loved you so why did you abandon me and choose Sima Jin? Was I not good enough? Did I fail to please you? Royal Father, I cannot bear it…”
Emperor Zhaoning stared at his Third Son. The child’s features were inherited from Consort Shu, while his temperament bore a trace of the Emperor himself.
He looked even more like a true son of Zhaoning and Fang Shujing than the Crown Prince.
Among all his sons, he truly favored this one, the only one he had brought close to personally raise.
Yet perhaps, in overindulgence, he had spoiled him…
As for the heir, the son of Consort Xian was indeed the more reliable choice.
Pei Shouzhen had said it was for the country, for the people.
He had also said that no matter how much one resembled an old friend, in the end, they were not an old friend…
No matter how much he loved this son, he was still not the flesh and blood of Zhaoning and Fang Shujing.
For both public duty and private affection, the throne could not be given to him.
But Emperor Zhaoning would not admit this aloud. He looked at his Third Son again and sighed, “I am not even dead, and yet you are so impatient…”
“Even if I did pass the throne to you, how could it be held securely when you act so recklessly, striking at every opportunity?”
“And that He Can, the Commander of Longxi, do you think he is a man to trust? To deal with him in private is no different than bargaining with a tiger’s skin!”
“Old Third, do not blame your father for calculating against you. If you had learned even half your mother’s prudence, would we be in this situation today?”
The Third Prince suddenly wept.
Raising his head again, his eyes toward Emperor Zhaoning glimmered with suppressed hatred: “I will never be as weak and submissive as my mother, living my life in someone else’s shadow! I, Sima Ze, would rather die than live dishonorably, I will die proudly, magnificently!”
Before Emperor Zhaoning could react, the Third Prince, eyes red, charged straight at the blades of the Dragon Shadow Guards.
“Old Third!”
“Your Highness, Third Prince!”
A sharp blade pierced the Third Prince’s chest. He coughed up blood, eyes bloodshot, fixated on Emperor Zhaoning: “Royal Father… if there is a next life, I never want to be your son… cough… and Royal Mother… my Royal Mother…”
He painfully turned to Consort Xian, her face pale with fright, and spat blood, “Consort…Consort Xian Royal Mother, do not trouble my Royal Mother.”
Consort Xian’s tears rolled freely, chokingly: “Foolish child… you foolish child.”
The Third Prince smiled faintly, then summoned his last strength to pull his body from the blade.
Blood gushed, instantly staining his golden armor crimson. He tilted his head back and fell heavily.
His bloodshot eyes fixed on the bright chrysanthemum-patterned palace lanterns hanging from the beams. Today was Mid-Autumn Festival.
The Mid-Autumn of family reunions.
Fifteen years ago, the palace banquet for Mid-Autumn had been just as splendid.
He had accidentally seen the Emperor gripping Royal Mother’s neck, forcing a terrifying smile from her.
She had smiled, and the Emperor said she did not smile properly.
She smiled again, until he was satisfied.
Royal Father called her Shu’er, and she smiled in response: “Yes, Your Majesty, I am Shu’er.”
Yet even then, Royal Father was unsatisfied, grabbing her hair, demanding why she did not love him, why she betrayed him, when he was her husband…
He had been so young then, shocked by the scene.
He had truly thought Royal Mother had betrayed Royal Father.
He had thought Royal Mother lowly, undeserving of Royal Father, deserving such treatment.
Later, he learned that Royal Mother had not betrayed Royal Father; someone else had.
Yet he had not changed his mind, still thinking Royal Mother lowly, for she could endure such treatment and still love Royal Father.
How could she endure it?
He could not endure it.
He could not.
Even if it meant dying in a final battle, he would never live beneath others.
The light before him gradually dimmed.
The Third Prince stared at the fading light, murmuring, “Royal Mother… if there is a next life, do not meet Royal Father again.”
