The next morning, Chu Feiyan received word they would depart that afternoon. She didn’t dare delay, having spent the entire previous night unable to sleep, desperate to see Chu Tiange, only to be told he wanted her to behave and follow the arrangements.

The convoy waited at the southern gate of the capital. The moment Chu Feiyan’s carriage arrived, Jun Beiyue exchanged only a few words with Prince Baxian before announcing their departure!

After all, however one looked at it, Chu Feiyan, as the princess in a political marriage, someone of considerable status about to be wed, should have occupied the position of honor within the procession.

Yet, unfortunately, the arrangement of positions turned out exactly as Jun Beiyue had predicted earlier—this wasn’t an official escort, but merely a favor of accompanying her along the way. Chu Feiyan’s carriage was placed directly behind Ziqing’s, while Jun Beiyue rode on horseback ahead of Ziqing.

From a distance, the oddity of this procession was immediately apparent. Jun Beiyue and Ziqing’s carriages were the dedicated carriages of the Prince Yao’s estate, their markings unmistakable, while Chu Feiyan hadn’t even switched to a Great Zhou carriage at all, still using the very carriage she’d traveled in all the way from Xichu, with her escorting guards, front and back, uniformly dressed in riding gear rather than proper formal attendance.

High atop the city gate, Consort Yi stood accompanying Emperor Tianhui at the very center, overlooking the procession of carriages gradually filing out through the gate.

Suddenly, Emperor Tianhui slammed his palm down on the stone lion’s head atop the railing without warning, nearly shattering the carving entirely!

Consort Yi kept her eyes lowered, not daring to speak. Emperor Tianhui gave a cold snort. “Have they found the Seventh Prince yet? Giving me false hope, only for it all to turn out to be a slanderous frame-up!”

Emperor Tianhui was still deeply bitter over the whole business with Jun Beiyue’s bloodline last time—that had been his last real chance to turn things around!

And now, aside from behaving obediently as a puppet emperor, what else could he possibly do?

And it was precisely because of this matter that Jun Beichen was now being hunted throughout the entire realm by order of Prince Baxian! If caught, having falsely accused Prince Yao would mean certain death!

“Your Majesty, the Seventh Prince really is more trouble than he’s worth—I’m certain he’s fled to Eastern Qin. Demanding his return from Eastern Qin should be a sure bet!” Consort Yi hastily urged.

Yet though Emperor Tianhui was incompetent, he wasn’t a fool. He understood perfectly well that if he made no moves at all, he could still sit comfortably on this throne for several more years, and who knew—perhaps in a few more years, circumstances might shift in his favor!

But if he made any move now, even if Jun Beiyue currently had no interest in seizing the throne himself, he certainly had the ability to install another prince in his place!

The fact that the Tenth Prince hadn’t been severely punished—that was precisely the fallback option Jun Beiyue had left in reserve!

That reckless, simple-minded son of his was the perfect candidate for a puppet ruler!

“Ha, where exactly do you expect me to go demand someone from Eastern Qin?” Emperor Tianhui said with a cold laugh.

At these words, Consort Yi grew fearful. “Your Majesty, I was merely speaking without thinking—it’s my own fault for talking too much!”

“Speaking without thinking?” Emperor Tianhui said coldly, turning to look at her.

Unexpectedly, Consort Yi suddenly dropped to her knees. “Your Majesty, it’s because… because… I don’t dare say it!”

“Speak,” Emperor Tianhui said coldly.

Consort Yi had been hoping for exactly this opportunity, and hastily said, “Your Majesty, Prince Yao intends to send Chen’er to the western frontier army for training!”

At these words, Emperor Tianhui’s sharp eyes narrowed instantly. Consort Yi, still kneeling, didn’t see his expression, only pleading urgently, “Your Majesty, Chen’er mustn’t go! If Chen’er leaves, we truly won’t have anyone left by our side!”

A calculating look crossed Emperor Tianhui’s lips as he asked, “When did this happen?”

“Just this morning. Chen’er is already packing his things—that foolish boy doesn’t even understand the gravity of it, he’s actually excited, wanting to leave immediately!” Consort Yi said hastily.

This timing was far too convenient. Chu Tiange had come the previous night and left before dawn, having no doubt discussed matters related to Nanzhao and the Solitary Isle. And now, first thing this morning, Prince Baxian had come with this news!

This sequence of events—if Prince Baxian had come earlier, she might have had time to consult with Chu Tiange on a countermeasure. And Beichen, brimming with reckless ambition, believed this was his chance to reclaim the western frontier army, refusing to heed her warnings at all!

Now, with matters pressing so urgently, the moment Prince Baxian saw Jun Beiyue off, he would immediately come to claim Beichen!

Had it not been absolutely necessary, Consort Yi would never have begged Emperor Tianhui like this. She knew perfectly well he wasn’t a fool—after the previous incident with General Ouyang’s treason, Emperor Tianhui already understood she couldn’t be entirely separated from Xichu’s involvement!

Emperor Tianhui kept her and her son around precisely because of this connection to Xichu—as a card to play against Jun Beiyue.

If Emperor Tianhui ever learned that she and Chu Tiange were using the matter of the Solitary Isle to harm Han Ziqing and Jun Beiyue, all to place the Second Prince on the throne, this old man would surely turn against her without hesitation!

Jun Beiyue was like a wild, unbridled horse—he wouldn’t tie himself down to the capital of Great Zhou so easily. What he needed was a capable minister like Prince Baxian, and a compliant, obedient emperor.

But Beichen was different—the moment Beichen gained real power, his very first act would surely be to pull Emperor Tianhui down from the throne!

Consort Yi waited anxiously, trembling. A flicker of cunning malice crossed Emperor Tianhui’s face, yet he spoke with feigned earnestness. “Beichen should indeed go gain some real experience. Tell him to go. If he manages to reclaim the western frontier’s military authority, this emperor will reward him greatly!”

Hearing this, Consort Yi felt a sudden jolt of alarm. But Emperor Tianhui was already scheming his own calculations—Jun Beiyue was clearly looking for an opportunity to eliminate Beichen, and sending him to the western frontier would provide no shortage of such opportunities!

With that, Emperor Tianhui turned and walked away, heading, rather uncharacteristically of his own accord, toward the Tenth Prince’s palace quarters. Consort Yi didn’t dare linger either, hurrying back to her own palace immediately.

Once everyone had dispersed, high atop the city gate, two figures gradually emerged—one in front, dressed in purple robes with silver hair fluttering in the wind, a guqin strapped across his back, resembling some banished immortal descended from the heavens; the other, a white-robed scholar, carrying an air of refined elegance, three parts scholarly grace and seven parts roguish charm.

They watched the carriages intently, their gazes both falling unconsciously on the roof of Chu Feiyan’s carriage—only to find it entirely empty!

Not until the carriages had traveled far into the distance, their outlines blurring, did Xuanyuan Lige finally descend in silence, heading not southward but toward the eastern harbor instead.

Baili Weisheng leapt up onto the rooftop as well, though he didn’t follow. He glanced back at Consort Yi and Emperor Tianhui’s carriages, then toward the direction of the palace, and finally lowered his gaze to watch the still-reluctant Prince Baxian below, his sharp, dark eyes rolling thoughtfully—no one could guess what schemes he was turning over in his mind…

Had it not been for her injured foot, Ziqing couldn’t possibly have sat still in the carriage. She glanced out the window at Jun Beiyue, then at Guxi, saying flatly, “Where did Shiliang go? I haven’t seen her all morning.”

“I don’t know. We’ve had trouble finding her these past few days—even Guxi couldn’t find her. Probably off practicing martial arts somewhere. My lady, I don’t like her,” Hongyi said bluntly.

Ziqing was puzzled. “Why not?”

“She doesn’t know how fortunate she is, getting all high and mighty just because she taught my lady how to brew soup, breaking the proper order among us servants. Look, she didn’t even come to see us off today,” Hongyi grumbled. Hongyi was fine in every other way, just a bit petty and fond of tattling.

Ziqing found this kind of thing most annoying and had no interest in discussing it further, casually offering an excuse to end the conversation. “Guxi came along because the mercenary band needs her leadership. His Highness hired several instructors to train them in combat.”

“My lady, you don’t know what she’s really—” Hongyi tried to continue.

But Ziqing shot her a sharp, warning glare, and Hongyi immediately fell silent, sulking. Ziqing had, in fact, clearly seen Hongyi skipping her duties at the mercenary band, sneaking off to the back courtyard to slack off instead.