After the Beginning of Spring, the snow in Shuo Jing ceased, replaced by endless fine rain that fell continuously, creating a dense, seemingly infinite curtain of moisture.

Within the imperial palace, there was no joy of the new year. Emperor Wen Xuan’s illness had grown more severe. The palace servants moved about with heavy expressions, and even the spring rain seemed to carry a layer of melancholy.

When the bedroom doors opened, Fourth Prince Guang Shuo emerged from within.

In recent days, he has been visiting Emperor Wen Xuan frequently. The Emperor had always favored this son, and the palace attendants found nothing strange about it. Though they dared not discuss it openly, they privately wondered: although Guang Yan was now Crown Prince, the future succession remained uncertain.

Inside the bedroom, Emperor Wen Xuan lay on his couch, gazing absent-mindedly at the imperial yellow curtains of the dragon bed.

Recently, he had told Consort Lan she need not visit daily. This wasn’t for any particular reason except to avoid giving others cause for gossip. Human hearts were difficult to fathom. While such visits might have been fine in the past, now he could barely attend court sessions. He feared he could no longer protect Consort Lan and her son as he once had.

Thinking of Guang Shuo, Emperor Wen Xuan sighed deeply.

Guang Shuo was excellent, possessing both virtue and talent and was filial. Setting aside other considerations, if he had just a bit more decisiveness and detachment, he would make a rare wise ruler for Great Wei. It was precisely his kindness and soft-heartedness that made Emperor Wen Xuan favor him—because such a Guang Shuo was truly like his own son.

Unfortunately, even so, Emperor Wen Xuan could not change the succession at this critical moment and handed the throne to Guang Shuo. If he did so, the court would certainly fall into chaos. Given Guang Yan’s character, it would likely result in immediate bloodshed among the royal family members in the palace halls.

If he were still in his prime, he could have suppressed all this. But he had grown old. Over the years, court officials had aligned themselves—some following Guang Shuo, others following Guang Yan. Everyone had their agenda, and he could no longer manage or control it all.

Yet… a resolution had to be reached.

The outer door made a slight sound, and Emperor Wen Xuan started, thinking it was a servant. Then Guang Yan’s voice rang out: “Father Emperor… are you asleep?”

It was Guang Yan.

He carried a redwood basket, and seeing Emperor Wen Xuan lying on the couch about to rise, he hurried forward to help him sit up against the headboard, calling out “Father Emperor” once more.

“…Why have you come?” Emperor Wen Xuan asked, immediately noticing how hoarse his voice had become.

“Hearing of Father Emperor’s illness, your son was deeply worried…” Guang Yan seemed somewhat nervous. “After much consideration, I ventured to enter the palace to check on Father Emperor’s health. How is Father Emperor’s royal condition?”

Guang Yan had always been arrogant and domineering; this was the first time he had shown such an anxious and helpless expression. Emperor Wen Xuan looked at him and suddenly sighed.

Since Minister Xu Jingfu’s incident, Guang Yan has rarely visited the palace. Emperor Wen Xuan knew clearly that Guang Yan had been close to Xu Jingfu in the past and was now deliberately avoiding attention, fearing guilt by association. Emperor Wen Xuan was indeed angry with Guang Yan and viewed him with particular disgust because of the Xu Jingfu matter.

But Guang Yan was still his son, and he did not have many sons.

This was why Guang Yan remained safe and sound until now. It was because the Ministry of Justice had received Emperor Wen Xuan’s verbal order that Crown Prince Guang Yan was to be excluded from all cases related to Xu Jingfu.

Seeing Emperor Wen Xuan staring at him continuously, lost in thought, Guang Yan grew uneasy and unconsciously opened the redwood basket, taking out a small bowl of soup.

“Father Emperor, this is ginseng soup that your son had the imperial kitchen prepare,” Guang Yan spoke anxiously. “Please have some, Father Emperor.”

Emperor Wen Xuan looked at him and inexplicably remembered when Guang Yan was small before Guang Shuo was born. He had only Guang Yan then, his eldest legitimate son, and he had truly loved and protected him. At that time, Guang Yan was only four years old, not yet the cruel and heartless person he would become, just a tiny child.

Empress Zhang had given Guang Yan a bowl of sweet soup, but Guang Yan wouldn’t eat it. Instead, he carefully carried the bowl from Kunning Palace to the imperial study. His frightened wet nurse followed, kneeling and begging for forgiveness. Emperor Wen Xuan held Guang Yan on his knee and asked with a smile, “Why did you bring this bowl to me?”

“Father Emperor,” the small child had said, his words still unclear and slightly muffled, struggling to lift the bowl to his father’s lips, “This tastes good, please have some!”

Emperor Wen Xuan had roared with laughter at these words. “How thoughtful you are at such a young age, always thinking of me. I haven’t wasted my love on you, little one!”

The taste of that sweet soup was now forgotten, though the laughter seemed as recent as yesterday. In the blink of an eye, Guang Yan had grown so tall, bearing no resemblance to that small child who would once bring him a bowl and nestle on his knee. He was bewildered—where had things gone wrong over all these years to create the present situation?

Emperor Wen Xuan suddenly took a deep breath and asked, “Guang Yan, do you have anything to say about the matter of Xu Jingfu?”

With just this bowl of ginseng soup, his heart had softened, and he still wanted to give Guang Yan a chance.

Guang Yan’s heart skipped a beat, not understanding why Emperor Wen Xuan suddenly brought this up, and replied, “Who would have thought that Prime Minister Xu Jingfu would betray the country and collaborate with the enemy… All these years, Father Emperor trusted him completely, yet he harbored thoughts of rebellion. Such a crime deserves death!”

Emperor Wen Xuan noticed the evasiveness in his gaze and imperceptibly sighed, shaking his head. “In my youth, I read that a ruler’s control over his officials is like a falconer’s control over his hawks—it depends on managing their loyalty through hunger and satiation. One must neither keep them too full nor too hungry. Hunger weakens them, but fullness makes them fly away. Court officials like Xu Jingfu are like overfed hawks—shameless, holding positions without merit, and content with their wealth and status. They neither rejoice at rewards nor fear punishment. They cannot be urged to serve Great Wei with full dedication.”

Guang Yan listened distractedly, his gaze fixed on the bowl of ginseng soup, saying, “Your son humbly accepts Father Emperor’s teaching. That Xu Jingfu was truly despicable. He deceived even me. It’s all my fault—if I had discovered Xu Jingfu’s disloyalty earlier, those Wutuo people wouldn’t have succeeded.”

Emperor Wen Xuan looked at him deeply. “Guang Yan, admitting fault is not as good as correcting oneself.”

The emperor’s usually clouded eyes became remarkably clear at this moment as if they could see through to one’s soul. Guang Yan quickly lowered his head, lifting the bowl of ginseng soup to Emperor Wen Xuan’s lips, smiling, “Father Emperor must be tired after speaking so much. The soup will get cold if we don’t drink it now. Let’s have the soup first before continuing.”

Seeing his son’s earnest expression, less arrogant than before, Emperor Wen Xuan thought perhaps the Xu Jingfu incident had taught Guang Yan something, so he nodded.

Guang Yan sat beside Emperor Wen Xuan, lifted the bowl, and used a silver spoon to scoop some soup, bringing it to Emperor Wen Xuan’s lips.

Emperor Wen Xuan started. “Aren’t you going to test the soup?”

“Test the soup?” Guang Yan looked at him.

“Perhaps you haven’t served me soup for so long that you’ve forgotten the rule about testing it,” Emperor Wen Xuan said, though his tone remained tolerant. “When Fourth Brother brings soup, he always tests it first.”

A moment of panic flashed across Guang Yan’s face.

He truly hadn’t served Emperor Wen Xuan for a long time and didn’t realize that even in his current ill state, the emperor still remembered poison testing. He hadn’t expected that even food brought by Guang Shuo wouldn’t earn Emperor Wen Xuan’s complete trust.

But this ginseng soup…

His fingers trembled slightly.

Emperor Wen Xuan had originally meant it as a joke. Though palace rules were many, he occasionally didn’t insist on following everyone. He was about to say never mind, but when he looked up, he saw Guang Yan’s slightly pale face and his whitened fingers gripping the soup bowl tightly.

People sometimes have intuition.

The ginseng soup had been brewed piping hot, and now after sitting for a while, it was just right, with a faint fragrance. But the person before him seemed unusually nervous.

The emperor’s gaze suddenly became profound, and he spoke slowly, his tone becoming inscrutable, “Guang Yan, you drink first.”

“Father Emperor… there are no other silver spoons here…”

“No matter, I can have someone bring another. Now, you test the soup first.”

Under these circumstances, Guang Yan had nowhere to hide. He had to lift the soup, use the silver spoon to scoop some up, and slowly bring it to his lips, though he hesitated to touch it.

As Emperor Wen Xuan watched, his heart sank.

Although Emperor Wen Xuan had known of Guang Yan’s cruelty and ruthlessness before, he never imagined his son would dare to move against him. Being his flesh and blood, he had turned a blind eye to Guang Yan’s misconduct outside the palace. Even after the Xu Jingfu incident, Emperor Wen Xuan still wanted to protect him. Even moments ago, before the soup was offered, he had wanted to give Guang Yan a chance, believing the matter of changing the crown prince shouldn’t be mentioned until the very last moment.

But he never expected Guang Yan would attempt patricide and regicide.

“Why aren’t you drinking?” he asked gravely, looking at this unfamiliar son.

Guang Yan bit his lip and was about to drink from the spoon, but at the last moment, as if touching hot iron, he violently flung the soup bowl away and stood up abruptly.

The bowl fell onto the velvet carpet before the couch, silently spilling its contents everywhere. Guang Yan suddenly came to his senses, realizing how foolish his action had been. He trembled as he looked at his father on the couch.

Emperor Wen Xuan’s gaze held disappointment, heartbreak, and an unprecedented coldness.

“We did not know,” the emperor spoke deliberately, “that your purpose in coming today was to take our life.”

“No, I didn’t—” Guang Yan reflexively denied, “I didn’t do this!”

“We need only summon the imperial physician to examine it, and we’ll know immediately,” Emperor Wen Xuan said coldly, moving to get up. “Guards—”

“Father Emperor!” Guang Yan lunged forward, covering his mouth, frantically saying, “Your son didn’t!”

Emperor Wen Xuan, already weak from illness, fell back onto the couch from the force. Guang Yan straddled him, spotted a cotton pillow, and without thinking, grabbed it and pressed it hard against the emperor’s mouth and nose, with only one thought: he couldn’t let Emperor Wen Xuan speak!

The person beneath him struggled desperately, but how could an elderly, sick body compete with someone in their prime? The more violently he struggled, the more ferocious Guang Yan’s expression became. He pressed almost his entire weight onto Emperor Wen Xuan, holding the cotton pillow down as if pressing on a dying fish, gasping, “Don’t shout, I told you not to shout!”

Like a fish thrown from water onto desert sand, desperately thrashing for survival, scales flying, until the harsh sun dried its eyes, leaving it completely lifeless.

After what seemed like an eternity, the struggle beneath him gradually ceased. Guang Yan, drenched in sweat, suddenly released his grip and lifted the cotton pillow.

Emperor Wen Xuan lay there, his face purple, pupils dilated, looking ghostly in the dim light of the bedroom.

Guang Yan was startled, tumbling off the couch onto the floor. He couldn’t help backing away a few steps. After a long while, he finally realized that this time, he had truly suffocated Emperor Wen Xuan to death.

He had earlier sent away the palace servants. Originally, he had come to poison the emperor. He hadn’t expected the emperor to discover the poisoned ginseng soup, and in the end, he had killed him with his own hands.

The bedroom was empty, the wind howling like ghosts’ wails, sending chills down one’s spine. Suppressing his fear, Guang Yan stood up and walked to Emperor Wen Xuan. He first picked up the soup bowl and placed it back in the redwood basket, then approached the dragon couch. He helped position Emperor Wen Xuan’s body, closed his wide-open eyes, and covered him with blankets.

Unable to see his father’s unrestful gaze, Guang Yan grew bolder. His eyes flashed with madness as he looked at Emperor Wen Xuan’s corpse, speaking rapidly in a low voice: “Father Emperor, don’t blame your son. Blame yourself for not giving me the throne. If you hadn’t forced me, I wouldn’t have done this… The throne was rightfully mine, Father Emperor… now watch how I take this position… just watch…”

He slowly clenched his fists, suddenly stood up, took the redwood basket, and left the bedroom.

—

The rain started falling again at night.

He Yan heard the rain faintly in her sleep and once awakened, couldn’t fall back asleep. She turned over, wrapping her arms around the person beside her.

It wasn’t that she was trying to take advantage of Xiao Jue; it was just cold, and having someone to hold made it much warmer. Xiao Jue slept quietly, with good posture, quite unlike her sprawling style.

Her movement woke Xiao Jue. He looked down at the person who had burrowed into his embrace and was clinging to him tightly, asking softly, “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“The rain woke me,” He Yan said in a muffled voice. “Can’t seem to fall back asleep.”

This was unusual. Though years of military life had made her alert even in sleep, since coming to the Xiao family, she had been sleeping soundly. Tonight’s insomnia was rare. For some reason, He Yan felt uneasy, as if something was about to happen.

Xiao Jue noticed her unease and, after a pause, rested his chin on top of her head, asking, “Want to go sit on the roof?”

He Yan: “…”

She said, “It’s raining outside.”

Xiao Jue: “I was just joking.”

He Yan wanted to speak but held back.

She felt that after Xu Jingfu’s death, things weren’t over. The struggle between Guang Yan and the Fourth Prince was just beginning. Both Xiao Jue and the Xiao family were in a delicate position, and it wouldn’t be easily resolved. However, speaking of such troubling matters in the middle of the night seemed somewhat inappropriate.

As He Yan was thinking, suddenly there came a knock at the door, and Fei Nu’s voice called out, “Young Master, there’s urgent news.”

She started. What could be so urgent at this hour?

Now they were truly awake. Xiao Jue got up and lit the oil lamp while He Yan put on clothes and got up too. When the door opened, wind and rain swept in, immediately chilling the room.

Fei Nu entered, his clothes wet from the rain, his expression grave.

Xiao Jue asked, “What is it?”

“News from the palace – the Emperor has passed away.”

Both He Yan and Xiao Jue were shocked. Xiao Jue frowned: “When?”

“The news just arrived,” Fei Nu said. “Young Master, should you visit the palace?”

Xiao Jue thought for a moment and said, “I understand. Go prepare the carriage, I’ll head to the palace immediately.”

Fei Nu acknowledged and left.

He Yan walked forward a few steps holding the oil lamp, her expression unable to hide her shock. “The Emperor…”

She hadn’t expected Emperor Wen Xuan to pass so suddenly. Although there had been rumors lately about his poor health, this news was still too abrupt. Her feelings were complex. People said many negative things about Emperor Wen Xuan, but in He Yan’s view, while he might not have been a brilliant ruler, he certainly wasn’t a foolish one.

As Xiao Jue was dressing, He Yan asked, “Should I go to the palace with you?”

Fei Nu’s message had been brief, and no one knew the actual situation in the palace.

“No need, stay at the manor,” Xiao Jue said. “I’ll go see what’s happening first.”

He Yan nodded. Though anxious, she knew Xiao Jue was right. Her official position didn’t warrant an immediate palace visit in such circumstances, and as the Xiao family’s young mistress, she had no reason to go. However…

Seeing her worried expression, Xiao Jue turned and patted her shoulder: “Don’t worry, I’ll return as soon as I’ve assessed the situation.”

“Xiao Jue, be careful,” she cautioned.

Xiao Jue finished dressing, took his sword, and left. He Yan had no desire to sleep anymore. She walked to the window and opened it. Fine rain slanted in with the wind, immediately coating the table with a thin layer of water droplets. The wind cooled He Yan’s face, completely dispelling any remaining drowsiness, and leaving her mind crystal clear.

Although it wasn’t the time to think of such things, one event would trigger many others. Before Emperor Wen Xuan’s death, he hadn’t mentioned changing the crown prince. Despite the court’s discussions, without such a change, the Crown Prince would naturally succeed to the throne.

But everyone knew what kind of person Crown Prince Guang Yan was. Although he hadn’t been implicated in Xu Jingfu’s case, He Yan had asked Xiao Jue about it – the Ministry of Justice had received Emperor Wen Xuan’s instructions to secretly protect Crown Prince Guang Yan. Emperor Wen Xuan couldn’t bear to move against the Crown Prince because he was his legitimate son, but as Great Wei’s future emperor, a person who would invite enemies in for the sake of power was unworthy to be ruler.

The rain seemed endless, as did the night.