Xie Yong’er walked alone toward the Cold Palace in the last rays of the setting sun.

As soon as she left, Xiahou Dan sent a guard after her: “Watch her from a distance. Don’t get too close or you’ll alert Prince Duan.”

Yu Wanyin gazed thoughtfully at Xie Yong’er’s retreating figure: “I wonder if this will go smoothly.”

Xie Yong’er’s reaction wasn’t quite what she had expected—it seemed too calm. Yu Wanyin couldn’t be certain what was going on in her friend’s mind.

Xiahou Dan: “It’s too late to worry now. You’ve already shown her Xu Yao’s letter.”

Yu Wanyin: “…”

She stole a glance at Xiahou Dan.

Was he angry?

Back in her chambers, Xiahou Dan’s expression remained displeased.

Yu Wanyin kept her head down while eating dinner, stealing five, six, seven, eight glances at him.

Xiahou Dan frowned as he placed a piece of fish on her plate.

The atmosphere was too awkward, so Yu Wanyin decided to break the silence: “I know you don’t trust Xie Yong’er.”

Xiahou Dan: “Good that you know.”

Yu Wanyin: “But if you think about it, your reason for not trusting her is a bit strange. In this world, everyone except us two is paper characters, including those persuaded ministers. Do you have no hope for them either?”

“They were designed to be loyal people who serve wholeheartedly. What about Xie Yong’er?”

“But Xu Yao was originally designed to be on Prince Duan’s side. Xiahou Bo was originally designed to be head over heels for Xie Yong’er.”

Xiahou Dan choked a bit and fell silent.

Yu Wanyin felt she had found the crux of the issue: “You seem to be particularly prejudiced against paper characters.”

Xiahou Dan touched on some old hidden pain, and couldn’t help but laugh sarcastically: “Well, let’s wait and see if Xie Yong’er lives up to all that sincere faith you have in her.”

Yu Wanyin was stunned and looked at him curiously.

Xiahou Dan asked irritably: “What?”

“What sincere faith do I have in her? I had that feeling last time but didn’t dare ask you…” Yu Wanyin said slowly, “Are you… jealous?”

She said this just to joke around, hoping to make Xiahou Dan smile.

But Xiahou Dan’s chopsticks, extended halfway, suddenly stopped.

Yu Wanyin: “?”

Xiahou Dan glanced up at her briefly and smiled as she had hoped: “Yes, I am.”

Yu Wanyin: “…”

She couldn’t understand his train of thought.

But her face felt hot.

In that broken house in the Cold Palace.

Night had fallen completely. There were no stars or moon tonight, and being far from the palace lights, it was almost pitch black.

Xie Yong’er’s body was still weak, and she couldn’t help shivering when the night wind blew. She dared not light a lamp and stumbled around in the darkness as she entered the main door, suddenly falling into someone’s embrace.

She instinctively stepped back, but the other person took off his outer garment and wrapped it around her: “Yong’er.”

Xie Yong’er looked up, but could only see a blurry silhouette. She couldn’t see the expression on his face, only hearing the familiar gentle voice: “You’ve suffered.”

Xie Yong’er buried her face in his chest, nuzzling weakly: “Your Highness, you’ve finally come to see me.”

In the darkness, Xiahou Bo kissed her lips lightly like a dragonfly skimming water: “How’s your body? Are you feeling better?”

His voice had always been somewhat cold, sounding even more like the striking of jade in the quiet night. Only when speaking to her would he slow his pace, as if holding a precious treasure, wanting to transfer what little warmth he had to her.

Xie Yong’er almost reflexively felt all her grievances surface: “Your Highness…”

Xiahou Bo: “I heard that after you miscarried, the Emperor sent people to surround your door, claiming to protect you, but forbidding you to leave. Is there something else behind this?”

Xie Yong’er’s remaining words came to an abrupt halt.

The concern in his voice was so sincere and comforting that in the past, she would have teared up.

But today someone had forced her to change her perspective. This time she finally understood that every word contained interrogative intent.

Xie Yong’er thought the blood in her heart had already cooled to the extreme, but it could get even colder.

Fortunately, no one could see her expression at this moment.

Xie Yong’er slowly said: “I claimed I wasn’t pregnant, but the Emperor grew suspicious. He calculated the dates and suspected the child wasn’t his. But I desperately found a chance to bury that fetus, so the Emperor couldn’t find evidence. He was also afraid of losing face if this got out, so he could only keep me confined and guarded in my room.”

Xiahou Bo let out a cold laugh: “Still so incompetent.”

Then he asked with concern: “But if that’s the case, how did you come out to see me today?”

Xie Yong’er: “…”

For an instant, just an instant.

She knew that this momentary pause had already betrayed her. Even if she immediately offered a perfect explanation, Xiahou Bo would no longer believe her.

After a moment’s hesitation, she trembled: “The Emperor forced me to come.”

After dinner, Xiahou Dan escorted Yu Wanyin back to her quarters as usual.

Clouds covered the moon, and a row of hexagonal palace lanterns hanging on the corridor swayed unsteadily in the cold wind, making their shadows stretch and shrink.

Xiahou Dan glanced in the direction of the Cold Palace, naturally seeing nothing: “I wonder how things are going over there.”

Yu Wanyin didn’t respond.

Her face was still somewhat hot, only now cooling down from the wind.

At the moment, she had temporarily pushed aside all crises, with their earlier conversation echoing in her ears over and over.

She had asked: “Are you jealous?”

Xiahou Dan: “Yes, I am.”

What did he mean? Why would he be jealous of Xie Yong’er?

Yu Wanyin’s heart fluttered. Having just spent the whole day talking about romantic matters with a love-brained Xie Yong’er, she seemed to have been brainwashed too. Though she knew the timing was wrong, she couldn’t help but half-jokingly, half-seriously follow up: “Because I did her hair and makeup? I’ll do yours tomorrow too…”

Xiahou Dan: “That’s not it.”

Yu Wanyin’s heart beat faster.

However, Xiahou Dan said these two words so openly and righteously, then continued eating with a calm expression, as if the topic had been perfectly concluded.

As a result, Yu Wanyin froze in place, unable to ask further.

What did that mean???

What was this? Was it an admission? Had they broken through that thin paper window?

It had been eight hundred years since she noticed his feelings for her. But he seemed to truly have some unspeakable trauma about physical contact, so she could only be patient, waiting for him to break through that paper barrier himself.

But the old man was truly unhurried and ambiguous, making her begin to doubt whether she was just being presumptuous.

Another cold wind blew, making the corridor lights sway chaotically. The two palace maids walking ahead of them with lanterns cried out in surprise: their lanterns had been blown out.

With light and shadow intertwined, Yu Wanyin couldn’t see the path beneath her feet clearly and slowed her pace.

Suddenly, there was warmth on her shoulders.

Xiahou Dan took off his outer robe and placed it on her shoulders: “Wearing so little, be careful not to catch a cold.”

Yu Wanyin was silent for a moment, then turned to look. Xiahou Dan’s face was blurred in the dim yellowish light, but his gaze was clear, and steady as he looked back at her.

The two palace maids in front were still apologizing while fumbling to relight the lanterns.

Yu Wanyin said in a volume they couldn’t hear: “This is the dragon robe. If word gets out, I’ll be labeled as a nation-destroying seductress again.”

Xiahou Dan was amused: “Aren’t you one?”

Yu Wanyin: “…”

Yu Wanyin: “……”

Yu Wanyin even felt a trace of anger.

Was he playing with her with this hot-and-cold behavior?

Xiahou Dan, are you incapable?

She couldn’t stand it anymore.

She impulsively leaned toward his thin lips, wanting to live up to the name of seductress on the spot.

The palace lanterns lit up again.

Xiahou Dan looked around: “Let’s go.”

For the rest of the journey, Yu Wanyin didn’t speak, lowering her head to hide her expression. So she didn’t notice that Xiahou Dan had unconsciously fallen half a step behind, his gaze always resting on her back.

Even with a thousand love-obsessed brains, she couldn’t guess what Xiahou Dan was thinking at that moment.

He was reflecting.

He shouldn’t have said those things.

He shouldn’t get close to her, and shouldn’t use a disguise of being “the same kind” to trick her into intimacy and goodwill.

How long could he hide the truth from her? When the truth was revealed, would these warm feelings floating at this moment appear in her nightmares?

But even knowing he shouldn’t, he still allowed himself to.

Where did this impulse come from? Was it because deep down he already knew that after tomorrow, there might not be another chance?

Cold Palace.

The conversation in the darkness had reached its conclusion.

A strong wind blew away the thick clouds, and moonlight poured down, equally merciful to the broken houses and tiles of the Cold Palace.

Xie Yong’er’s hair gave off a hazy glow.

Xiahou Bo suddenly smiled: “Yong’er seems particularly beautiful today.”

Xie Yong’er’s makeup, washed by the moonlight, didn’t look particularly out of place, but it was still noticeably different from ordinary palace makeup.

Xie Yong’er turned to look at him: “I still look a bit sickly, and I didn’t want you to see my unsightly appearance, so I applied some more powder. Does Your Highness like it?”

Xiahou Bo: “I like it. It’s different, just like you.”

Xie Yong’er: “…”

Once her perspective had shifted, she realized Prince Duan’s sweet-talking techniques weren’t that impressive, and even seemed perfunctory.

Xie Yong’er’s eyes had completely adjusted to the darkness, and she could see Xiahou Bo’s expression. A flawless smile and, a focused gaze, but there was no reflection of her in those eyes.

Strangely enough, what had initially captivated her was precisely those eyes that didn’t reflect herself. His gaze seemed to always be looking at something far away, never falling on any ordinary person. Only then did she firmly believe that she wasn’t included among those “ordinary people.”

If Yu Wanyin were here, she would probably say he was standing like a “No worldly desires.jpg” meme.

Xie Yong’er suddenly found it somewhat amusing.

If Yu Wanyin were a person like her, perhaps she wouldn’t appear so pathetic.

Xiahou Bo: “What is it?”

Xie Yong’er shook her head: “Then as Your Highness said, I’ll pass the message to the Emperor after I return.”

“Mm.” Xiahou Bo stroked her head, “Thank you for your hard work.”

Xiahou Dan escorted Yu Wanyin to the door of her chambers, diligently playing out the “chasing wife” scenario: “I’m leaving now. Rest well.”

He didn’t manage to leave.

Yu Wanyin held the corner of his garment, not knowing how much was acting for the palace people to see and how much was genuine, looking embarrassed yet shy: “Your Majesty, stay tonight.”

She looked around, moved close to his ear, and her soft breath blew into his ear: “Don’t go, I have something to show you.”

Xiahou Dan: “…”

Stop toying with me.

Is this karma?

Yu Wanyin did have some intention of revenge, deliberately holding his hand and not letting go, leading him into the room, closing the bedroom door, dismissing the palace staff, and meaningfully saying: “What beautiful moonlight.”

Xiahou Dan: “…Yes.”

Bei Zhou, who suddenly appeared behind them: “It is quite beautiful.”

Xiahou Dan: “?”

Yu Wanyin smiled: “Uncle Bei, show him the thing.”

Xiahou Dan: “???”

The next morning, Yu Wanyin woke up earlier than usual.

Outside the window, it was still overcast, the oppressive air seeming to brew a heavy rain. She instinctively turned her head to look and found the pillow next to her empty, startling her upright.

“I’m here,” Xiahou Dan sat on the edge of the bed looking at her, “I haven’t left yet.”

Yu Wanyin sighed in relief: “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

Xiahou Dan didn’t answer, instead handing her a note: “Xie Yong’er sent this in early this morning.”

Yu Wanyin opened it to see just a few words: “All is normal, Prince Duan favors peace.”

She frowned: “What a perfunctory answer.”

“Do you still plan to trust her?” Xiahou Dan asked.

“…Hard to say. If Prince Duan truly has no schemes, that would of course be best…” Yu Wanyin watched him put on his crown with its beaded pendants, and couldn’t help saying, “Why don’t I go to the mountain with you after all? Like before, disguised as a guard, okay?”

Xiahou Dan smiled: “No. You stay here. In case of an unexpected situation, at least…” he paused, “at least you can improvise and provide support.”

But Yu Wanyin understood the part he swallowed, which was probably “at least you won’t be in danger.”

She jumped out of bed: “I’m going with you. Don’t try to persuade me, I won’t listen.”

“Wanyin.”

“Not listening.”

Xiahou Dan smiled again: “Right now, the Empress Dowager and Prince Duan’s small movements are unknown. How do you know whether an unexpected situation will occur on the mountain or in the city? If we both go to the imperial tomb, what if something happens in the city?”

Yu Wanyin: “.”

She indeed couldn’t deny this possibility.

Xiahou Dan: “I have Uncle Bei as my unknown trump card, and the guards have been specially trained by him recently. Their skills have improved considerably, so don’t worry too much. As for you, if you encounter trouble, remember that protecting yourself comes first.”

Yu Wanyin remained silent.

“Wanyin,” Xiahou Dan called out again.

Yu Wanyin was distracted and irritable, not knowing who she was angry with: “Go on, go. The sooner you leave, the sooner you’ll return.”

The silence by the bedside lasted a bit longer than usual. She looked up in confusion.

Xiahou Dan: “When I come back, I have something to tell you.”

Yu Wanyin: “…”

Yu Wanyin: “Peh peh peh peh peh! Why are you raising such a flag? Take it back quickly!”

“I won’t,” Xiahou Dan stood up, “I’m leaving.”

“Take it back!!!”

The Emperor and Empress Dowager’s procession set off magnificently, with imperial horses leading the way, slowly heading toward Mount Bei.

An hour later, Mu Yun received the news: “They have all left the city.”

Mu Yun: “Then let’s begin.”

The Empress Dowager’s verbal order was: to act discreetly, find the envoy delegation, fabricate a crime to arrest them, and then take action.

Mu Yun obviously wouldn’t follow this order.

As soon as the imperial procession was gone, chaos broke out in the city alleys. Large groups of men first rushed to the embassy, seemingly finding it empty, then immediately split into several routes, running wild throughout the city, searching house by house.

As if they were afraid of not alarming their prey.

Even in the separate courtyard where Tu Er’s group was hiding, they could hear the commotion outside.

The noise grew louder. Inside the room, the envoys sat around a table. Ha Qi Na listened for a moment, then questioned Tu Er with his eyes.

Tu Er made a gesture to remain calm.

A group of guards stood in the courtyard to protect them. Late last night, these were the people who had taken them away from the embassy. From the guards’ solemn expressions, Tu Er deduced that at least part of what was written on that strange note was true: someone indeed wanted to kill them.

Who was it? The Empress Dowager?

Tu Er didn’t care much about this. He was more concerned about whether the other sentence on the note was also true.

At this moment, a guard from the courtyard walked in and said quietly: “Please follow us and leave through the back door to take temporary shelter.”

It seemed the searchers were about to break in. Tu Er silently stood up, cooperatively following the guards as they slipped out the back door into a narrow alley.

The guard led the way with his head down, seemingly taking them to another hiding place. Tu Er suddenly spoke: “Brother, could you send someone to Mount Bei to notify His Majesty the Emperor to come to protect us?”

The guard casually replied: “His Majesty already knows…” Before he could finish, he suddenly realized something was wrong—these Yan people had been under constant surveillance, and no one would have leaked the imperial family’s whereabouts to them, so how did they know the Emperor had gone to Mount Bei?

The guard’s reaction was quick; as he turned around, his hand was already on his sword hilt.

Unfortunately, he would never have the chance to draw his sword.

Before he could fully turn, a pair of large hands gripped his head. With a powerful twist, he faintly heard an ominous muffled sound and felt his head suddenly being turned toward his back.

The last thing reflected in his eyes was a sinister face.

Tu Er struck suddenly, and his subordinates quickly followed suit. Just as the guards began to react, a handful of poisonous powder was thrown over them.

Silently, a pile of guard corpses lay in the back alley.

Tu Er gave instructions in the Yan language: “Change into their clothes, take their weapons and tokens.”

Ha Qi Na asked: “Prince, what do we do next?”

Tu Er: “Leave the city, go to Mount Bei.”

After Shan Yi’s death, he had sworn to make the Xia people pay blood for blood. He led from the front, charging into battle, his achievements growing, his prestige rising, and the Yan people all viewed him as heaven’s divine son.

The Yan King’s smile toward him grew increasingly false, which Tu Er knew but didn’t care about. From the day his uncle sent Shan Yi away, there was no bond of affection left between them.

Finally, even this surface-level cooperation came to an end.

The Yan King had long since stopped personally going to battle. Day by day, he hid in his newly built palace, being lovey-dovey with the Qiang Queen, looking like an old house on fire that had finally found true love. It was said that Qiang people were skilled with poisons, and Tu Er suspected that the woman had some strange recipe to make him like a withered tree coming back to life.

Later, a Xia person named Wang Zhao came to negotiate peace. The Yan King was moved, but Tu Er firmly opposed it, and his subordinates were also in an uproar. When people began shouting to put Tu Er on the throne, the Yan King became restless.

To this day, Tu Er still doesn’t know how he was poisoned.

He only knows that he collapsed in his tent, and when he woke up again, he was chained and imprisoned in his home.

The Qiang Queen visited him once. The woman in red clothes with red lips, full of charm, smiled at him: “Compared to your uncle, of course, I would prefer to choose you. I gave you a chance, but you refused.”

Tu Er: “When did you ever speak to me?”

“At the welcoming banquet, I was smiling at you the whole time.” Her smile gradually cooled, “Didn’t you notice?”

Tu Er looked at her, puzzled: “Why would I notice you? Do you think you’re that beautiful?”

Watching her leave with a flick of her sleeve, he felt a hint of cheap satisfaction.

After the Queen left, a sachet was left on the ground.

He opened it to find several pills of different colors. He accidentally smelled it, felt dizzy, threw the sachet away, and had to regulate his breathing for a long time to recover.

It was poison, all kinds of poison.

She never came back to look for that sachet.

His confidant Ha Qi Na risked his life to sneak in, bringing only bad news: during his unconsciousness, military power had shifted, the situation had deteriorated, and his former subordinates had been dealt with by the Yan King under various pretexts.

Moreover, an envoy delegation sent by the Yan King was about to set off for peace negotiations with Xia.

At this moment, Tu Er realized this was his last chance.

If he seized it, he could advance without deploying a single soldier directly to the Xia capital, kill that Emperor, and incidentally ruin the Yan King’s wishful thinking, making him spend his later years in the flames of war.

Naturally, he would not be able to escape alive.

But he had no intention of escaping.

Tu Er shook the sachet: “Let’s intercept and kill the envoy delegation.”

In the palace.

The Emperor was gone, the Empress Dowager was gone, and the concubines were like they were on a big vacation. Taking advantage of the rain not yet falling, they all came out to walk and chat, having a great time.

Only Yu Wanyin shut her door and paced alone.

Her eyelid kept twitching, and her chest was pounding. But no matter how she used logic to deduce, Prince Duan had no reason to sabotage this peace negotiation.

Intuition told her she was missing some key information, like a puzzle missing its most crucial piece.

Xiahou Dan had left several guards to protect her. Seeing her like this, a guard advised: “Your Highness, don’t worry too much. His Majesty said if there’s an emergency, you may make the decision, and someone will come to report.”

Yu Wanyin didn’t listen, turned around a couple more times, and suddenly said: “I’m going out for a walk.”

Guard: “?”

Yu Wanyin had just reached the Imperial Garden when she ran into Xie Yong’er.

Xie Yong’er was wearing modern makeup today, looking noble, cold, and beautiful, as if looking down on everything. When they faced each other, Xie Yong’er glanced at her coldly, just gave a light snort, and walked past her.

Yu Wanyin didn’t call out to her, nor did she look back.

After they had walked far away from each other, Yu Wanyin returned home, rushed back to the bedside as soon as she entered the door, picked up the note Xiahou Dan had given her that morning, and carefully looked at it again.

It was still plain black characters on white paper, nothing special.

Not giving up, Yu Wanyin lit a candle and held the note to the fire to heat it.

She had forgotten—she had forgotten—that the original Xie Yong’er had used this trick.

As the candle flame danced, more text gradually appeared from the blank spaces. Unlike those few large characters, these were in simplified Chinese, written densely in one place: “Prince Duan’s people are watching me. He said the Emperor won’t come down from Mount Bei alive.”

Last night.

Xie Yong’er: “The Emperor forced me to come. He intercepted the note where Your Highness invited me to meet, and he flew into a rage, saying he would drown me alive. But he also fears Your Highness, so he told me to keep the appointment as usual, then go back and tell him if you have any schemes.”

Xiahou Bo: “Schemes?”

Xie Yong’er: “He said he dreamed of something bad but wasn’t sure if it was a nightmare or some kind of omen. It seemed to be related to the envoy delegation, but he didn’t say clearly…”

Xiahou Bo remembered that Yu Wanyin had said before that Xiahou Dan had also opened his celestial eye, but it wasn’t as effective, only able to see the distant future.

If it were effective, he wouldn’t have been suppressed by the Empress Dowager until now.

As for why he suddenly dreamed of something bad… could it be that he foresaw his death? Xiahou Bo thought with interest.

Of course, it could all be lies.

But Xie Yong’er had just lost a child for him.

Ironically, her persistent devoted demeanor hadn’t earned his affection, but it had earned his limited trust.

Xie Yong’er, on the verge of tears, said: “Your Highness, take me away. He will surely kill me!”

“I will take you away, but not now,” Xiahou Bo comforted her. “Yong’er, for my sake, you must go back and tell him everything is normal.”

“But after I tell him, I’ll have no value in staying alive, he…”

“Don’t worry, he’s going to Mount Bei tomorrow, and then he won’t be coming down again. Speaking of which, Yong’er, can you give me some advice?”

Above the candle flame, another line of text appeared: “Yan people assassinate.”

The final piece of the puzzle was in place.

Yu Wanyin’s expression remained unchanged, and even her fingers stopped trembling. She steadily held the note close to the candle flame and burned it to ash.

Just at this moment, a guard rushed in: “News from the city: the Yan people have killed their escorts and disappeared.”

Yu Wanyin wasn’t surprised. She stood up and looked at the guards one by one, feeling her mind had never worked so quickly: “Can you mobilize the imperial guards?”

The guards looked at each other: “Without His Majesty’s token, the imperial guards probably won’t comply.”

Yu Wanyin: “I thought as much. The imperial guards have been bought by Prince Duan. Going to report would only alert him…” She closed her eyes briefly, “Everyone changes into plain clothes, I’ll disguise myself, and we’ll leave the city.”

Guard: “Your Highness?!”

Yu Wanyin briefly explained: “The Yan people are going to assassinate, and Prince Duan’s people are secretly helping.” She was already rushing toward her makeup box, “Why are you still standing there? Change your clothes!”

The guards were also panicking: “We were ordered by His Majesty to protect Your Highness. His Majesty said if there’s danger, we must not let Your Highness go up the mountain, or we pay with our lives. Besides, Your Highness doesn’t know martial arts, even if you went up the mountain…”

Yu Wanyin said nothing, pulled something from her sleeve, and pointed it at the wooden table nearby.

In the high space above their heads, from the lead-gray clouds, the first drop of rain fell.

A line of silver light plummeted toward the unsuspecting earth.

A loud “bang” exploded in the deep palace.

Unusual autumn thunder rumbled one after another.

Ha Qi Na, squeezed in the flow of people leaving the city, suddenly felt a coolness on his forehead as a drop of autumn rain splashed.

A woman walking in front of him looked up at the sky and opened an umbrella.

Tu Er’s group wore clothes stripped from the palace guards. The men could just about manage, but the women were not a good fit. But in the rush, it was the best they could do, at least better than their original fur coats and painted skirts. Fortunately, because of these uniforms, the commoners along the way didn’t dare to look at them much.

As the queue grew shorter and they were about to exit the city gate, the gate guards looked toward them.

Tu Er had already torn off his fake beard, but his height couldn’t be disguised, and the murderous aura throughout his body couldn’t be completely concealed, standing before them like a mountain pressing down.

Guard: “…”

Tu Er lowered his head, flashed the token at him, and said coldly: “On urgent business.”

The guard’s gaze swept over the crowd behind him.

Ha Qi Na and the others lowered their heads slightly, silently gripping their weapons.

Unexpectedly, the guard just glanced at them and said with a bow: “Please proceed.”

Everyone held their breath, still not daring to relax, walking in an orderly manner out of the city gate, missing the guard’s gaze that followed them.

After they had gone far, the guard turned and went to see the commander of the imperial guards: “Sir, those people have been let out of the city.”

Commander Zhao took a deep breath: “What people?”

The guard was confused: “Sir?”

Cold sweat appeared on Commander Zhao’s nose: “I never gave you such an order. Nothing happened today, understand?”

The guard tensed up and hurriedly replied: “Yes, sir.”

This Commander Zhao, whose full name was Zhao Wucheng, was the former Deputy Commander Zhao who had been promoted by Prince Duan. Prince Duan had caught his weaknesses, forcing him to cooperate, and then plotted to assassinate the commander, allowing him to take over. Since then, he has used his position to do small favors for Prince Duan.

Zhao Wucheng was essentially incompetent, never having truly fought in battle, but he was skilled at following the wind and fishing in troubled waters. Because of this, the imperial guards under him grew increasingly lazy, and the internal structure had long been hollowed out.

He had some idea of what Prince Duan was planning but didn’t dare to speak out. Turning a blind eye and allowing his confidants to let some people out of the city was the most he could do. If Prince Duan pressured him further to join in the grand scheme, even if he agreed under duress, he couldn’t mobilize the imperial guards under him.

Zhao Wucheng lit an incense stick, secretly praying that Prince Duan wouldn’t fail, and even if he did, that he wouldn’t be implicated.

He had calculated well: if the Mount Bei affair succeeded, all would be happy; if it failed, he would keep himself safe.

Zhao Wucheng called some of his confidants: “Keep a close eye on the situation and report at any time.”

Confidant: “Report what?”

Zhao Wucheng angrily said: “…Any developments must be reported!”

He needed to decide in time whether to rescue the Emperor or to be conveniently late in rescuing him.

Thunder rolled, and the sound of rain overhead gradually grew from light to heavy, becoming increasingly dense.

Yang Duojie sat swaying in a sedan chair. The chair was carried by men, ascending the steps along the sacred path up Mount Bei.

This was originally just a barren mountain, but now there was an offering hall on it, with a lower palace built around it for fasting and imperial stays. The buildings were meant to be majestic, but drenched in the cold rain and hidden among the dense forest, they gave off a somewhat ghostly air.

Yang Duojie was dizzy from the swaying and staggered out of the chair. Although attendants stood nearby with umbrellas to shield him from the rain, the chaotic raindrops still quickly wet his shoes and socks.

Yang Duojie shuddered and looked up in a disheveled state. Those two imperial figures ahead truly deserved their status; walking in such rain, they maintained dignified steps and composed expressions.

The Empress Dowager said without blinking: “Indeed a good place.”

Xiahou Dan’s expression remained unchanged: “I’m glad Mother is pleased.”

The official in charge of supervising the construction nodded and bowed: “Good rain knows the season, it’s truly the blessing of the sage.”

Yang Duojie: “?”

The Empress Dowager had already cursed countless times in her heart, but now she needed to keep Xiahou Dan outside the city at all costs, so she forced herself to say: “Then accompany Mother for a walk, and let the Imperial Observatory people check the feng shui.”

Imperial-certified fortune teller Yang Duojie: “…”

When he was sent here, his superior had explained: “The preparations for the Millennium Banquet were good, His Majesty and the Empress Dowager were both very satisfied. You’re eloquent and understand the five elements and eight trigrams. In the future, such occasions would be most suitable for you.”

Translated, it meant: The organization has decided to put you in charge of all future deceptions.

Yang Duojie was quite distressed inside.

He wanted to ask Xiahou Dan if he remembered the grand promises he had made on that painted boat—the hope of the people, the backbone of the Great Xia.

After this job, I’ll resign and go back home, he thought.

Yang Duojie forced a smile and approached the Empress Dowager: “This humble official sees that this place has mountains and water, with abundant energy…”

As he spoke, he glanced at Xiahou Dan and was surprised to find the Emperor also looking down at him, his expression indifferent but his eyes seemingly thoughtful.

Yang Duojie paused in his speech, instinctively reflecting on where his deception might have gone wrong, but Xiahou Dan had already looked away.

The group walked around the mausoleum, and Xiahou Dan unconsciously fell a few steps behind the Empress Dowager. Bei Zhou, dressed as a nursemaid, held an umbrella for him and reached out to support him: “Are you alright?”

Xiahou Dan’s headache was severe; every movement made his nerves spasm, and he didn’t even want to open his mouth, only giving an “Mm” sound.

Bei Zhou glanced at the surrounding forest from under the umbrella: “People are hiding in the woods. They were here when we came up the mountain.”

So, the conspiracy was on the mountain.

Xiahou Dan felt somewhat relieved.

Bei Zhou saw through his thoughts: “Good thing we didn’t let Wanyin come. Did you bring the item in your sleeve?”

“Dan’er.” The Empress Dowager didn’t know what he was whispering about, and fearing he would grow suspicious and leave, she actively approached him, “It’s cold outside, let’s go in and look at the offering hall.”

Xiahou Dan tucked his hands into his sleeves as if afraid of the cold, and said softly: “After you, Mother.”

However, the grand offering hall also had a cold, damp air.

The wind and rain made the day dark, and even with the lanterns lit by the palace attendants, they couldn’t brighten the dim hall. As soon as the Empress Dowager entered, she ordered the guards to disperse around the offering hall. Her people went further than Xiahou Dan’s guards, supposedly patrolling, but intercepting any urgent messages that might come up from the city.

The Empress Dowager had ulterior motives and tried to show goodwill to Xiahou Dan as they walked: “The mausoleum is indeed built grandly. My son has been thoughtful.”

Xiahou Dan endured his headache and played along: “It’s what I should do.”

The Empress Dowager smiled at him, seemingly with emotion: “Recently, my son has learned to make his own decisions, which is good. Mother is getting old and should enjoy some peace.”

Even Yang Duojie thought upon hearing this: That’s enough, any more acting would be too much.

Xiahou Dan was sparing with words: “Mother is in the prime of life.”

But the Empress Dowager had prejudices about Xiahou Dan’s intelligence and said lovingly: “Yesterday the Crown Prince mentioned you to me, saying he misses his father very much.”

Xiahou Dan closed his eyes in exasperation, with almost black qi rising between his brows.

Empress Dowager: “When you’re free, you can test his studies, talk to him more—”

“Mother.” At this moment, Xiahou Dan abandoned all pretense and said softly, “Mother has been afraid to let the Crown Prince out for years. Suddenly saying this today, do you think he can’t die now?”

The Empress Dowager was choked up.

The Empress Dowager looked at him in disbelief, thinking: This person has finally gone completely mad?

The hall was deadly silent.

The surrounding officials, palace attendants, and guards tried to make themselves smaller, wishing they could shrink into balls and roll away.

Yang Duojie: “…”

Did he just hear something that living people shouldn’t hear?

The Empress Dowager finally reacted, raising her willow eyebrows: “What do you mean by that?”

Images flashed before Xiahou Dan’s eyes. A group of palace people, both men and women, surround him like farmers breeding livestock. The lead palace maid brought a pill before him, and seeing him not move, said “Excuse me” and directly put it in his mouth…

The more his head throbbed with pain, the less it showed on his face. He even smiled gently at her: “Mother wouldn’t think I would develop any paternal feelings for him, would you?”

The moment their eyes met the hair on the back of the Empress Dowager’s neck suddenly stood up as if she heard a venomous snake hissing out its tongue.

Yang Duojie: “……”

He began to wonder if he could still get down the mountain alive today. Surely they wouldn’t silence everyone?

Xiahou Dan chose this moment to call on him: “That one from the Imperial Observatory.”

Yang Duojie silently shuddered: “Your servant is here.”

Xiahou Dan casually said: “Go check the feng shui of the nearby lower palace, sacred path, and memorial pavilions. Look carefully, there must be no oversight.”

Yang Duojie was stunned, and though he didn’t understand, his feet moved quickly, as if afraid the Emperor would change his mind. He retreated, virtually running.

He plunged into the rain curtain, heading straight for the farthest side hall. As long as no one looked for him, he could inspect until next year.

In the forest.

The patrolling guards suddenly heard a strange noise from deep within the woods, not distinct in the rain, like the sound of breaking branches.

He went to investigate but saw no one. Thinking he had misheard, he was about to turn back when from the corner of his eye he suddenly glimpsed deep footprints in the muddy ground.

The guard was about to raise an alarm, but that cry was permanently silenced.

Tu Er dragged his body behind a tree to hide it, looked up at the distant halls, and made a silent gesture.

In the hall.

The Empress Dowager still stared fixedly at Xiahou Dan, as if she had heard something treasonous and was waiting for his apology.

Xiahou Dan indeed didn’t want to pretend anymore.

Although he didn’t know what move she would make after painstakingly bringing him here, at this point, there was no need for false courtesy.

At this moment, with Yu Wanyin not by his side, he didn’t even need to wear his last layer of disguise. He glanced at the Empress Dowager with a half-smile: “Aren’t you going to begin?”

Empress Dowager: “…What?”

As soon as the words fell, a lightning bolt split the sky, and the dim interior was suddenly brilliantly lit.

In that flash, the window shutters on all four sides shattered simultaneously!

More than ten black shadows leaped in, pouncing on them like ghosts!

The Empress Dowager was terrified and screamed: “Pro… protect the Emperor!”

The guards in the hall hurriedly rushed forward, but before they could even see the intruders’ movements clearly, a handful of powder was thrown over them.

The guard running at the front was still trying to defend himself before falling but was quickly finished off by the intruders.

Ten people.

The delayed thunder exploded as if right by their ears.

Xiahou Dan’s secret guards hurriedly revealed themselves to fight, but the enemy’s martial arts were incredibly high, and their tactics mysterious, breaking their formation as soon as the fight began.

Fourteen people.

Another lightning flash. In the alternating brightness and darkness, the remaining people’s vision was blurred, and they had no time to consider fighting strategies. They could only instinctively tighten their circle, using their bodies as walls in front of the Emperor, trying to hold them off for a moment: “Your Majesty, flee—”

The Empress Dowager had already collapsed on the ground.

Twenty people.

By the time the second thunder sounded, twenty bodies lay on the ground, only two of which were enemies.

Now Xiahou Dan could finally see the faces of these people. They weren’t unfamiliar; he had seen them at the Millennium Banquet.

Yan people.

Tu Er charged at the front, wielding a sword taken from a guard, swinging it with great power and impressive vigor. His natural giant strength surged like a flood, flowing throughout his body, making an ordinary long sword display the appearance of wind and thunder rushing forward.

The sword flashed like lightning, cutting another secret guard in half at the waist. The next second, it pointed at the Emperor on the dais, with such battlefield momentum that it seemed as if this strike could destroy thousands of troops—

Then it was blocked by a short sword.

The wrist holding the sword wore a bracelet.

Tu Er looked up in astonishment to see a heavily made-up nursemaid.

Under his gaze, the bones in the nursemaid’s body made a muffled “crack-crack” sound, and the entire person’s form suddenly grew taller, revealing a man’s appearance. Taking advantage of his momentary shock, the man delivered an iron palm blow with a fierce wind, hitting Tu Er squarely in the chest. Tu Er staggered back two steps and spat out a mouthful of blood!

Tu Er: “What kind of monster are you?”

Bei Zhou: “Your mother.”

Tu Er: “???”

Bei Zhou was also secretly shocked. The sword was short and the blade was long; just now when he forcefully blocked, he had already sustained internal injuries, and the hand that delivered the palm strike was also faintly painful. How was this person’s flesh grown? Could it be steel bones?

Bei Zhou’s expression was solemn as he slowly said: “Judging by your skills, you must be Yan’s number one master, Tu Er?”

Tu Er: “That’s right. And who are you?”

Bei Zhou glanced at the dead and wounded on the ground, stepped forward, picked up a long sword from the ground, shook off the blood on the blade, and calmly said: “I’m just an ordinary water-carrying nursemaid in the Great Xia palace.”

Tu Er: “…”

Tu Er belatedly realized he was being ridiculed, but instead of getting angry, he laughed: “Do you Xia people only know how to talk? Come fight!”

He took his stance, wielding his sword and attacking again. Bei Zhou showed no fear and was about to meet the enemy—

Suddenly, he heard a barely audible “click” sound from somewhere behind him.

In a flash, Bei Zhou moved.

Not toward Tu Er, but withdrawing to the side.

The next second, it was as if a bolt of lightning had struck directly in the center of the offering hall, exploding with a roar.

Last night.

Yu Wanyin smiled: “Uncle Bei, show him the thing.”

Bei Zhou, smiling, raised his two hands that had been hidden behind his back.

Xiahou Dan: “…”

Xiahou Dan looked at Yu Wanyin with a blank face: “Are you joking with me?”

Bei Zhou: “Eh, Dan’er, why do you look like you already know what this is? This was Wanyin’s idea—not using internal energy, but using gunpowder to propel a mechanism that shoots hidden weapons. Uncle researched for countless nights to make it, the only pair in history…”

Xiahou Dan: “Guns.”

Bei Zhou: “Your eyesight isn’t good. How could these be guns? I’ve given them a name: Nine Heavens Mysterious Fire Repeating Sleeve Crossbow.”

Xiahou Dan: “…”

Xiahou Dan: “Uncle, whatever makes you happy.”

Bei Zhou: “Here, one for each of you, keep them safe for emergencies. But since you haven’t practiced, your aim might be off, so don’t use them carelessly. Me? I don’t need such a thing to protect myself.”

The hall once again fell into deadly silence.

Even the attacking Yan people couldn’t help but pause, staring dumbfounded at the center of the hall.

A huge hole had appeared out of nowhere in the wooden pillar, with a burnt smell and blue smoke wafting out.

Xiahou Dan himself staggered back half a step before steadying himself, holding a strange object never seen before, one end pointing at Tu Er.

No one saw clearly how he had just acted, but the tremendous force and the terrifying destructive power had already overturned everyone’s understanding.

He must have missed. If that shot had hit Tu Er…

Tu Er threw back his head and laughed loudly.

“Good!” His eyes flashed with bloodlust, “Today we’ll see whether you die or I perish!”

As soon as he finished speaking, he didn’t charge toward Xiahou Dan but leaped at Bei Zhou instead.

Bei Zhou frowned, wanting to create distance between them to give Xiahou Dan a clear shot. But Tu Er’s instincts were extraordinary; he immediately understood the key point, grappling with Bei Zhou in close combat while shouting: “Do the same, everyone! He has no aim!”

His subordinates suddenly understood and followed his example, engaging the remaining guards in close combat. Some even went so far as to pick up the corpses of guards as shields, advancing step by step toward Xiahou Dan.

Bei Zhou was pursued relentlessly by Tu Er to the wall, his face frost-cold: “Are you underestimating me too much?”

His feet shifted, and he suddenly exerted his energy throughout his body. His long hair flew up, and his sword flashed like a rainbow.

Tu Er avoided it by turning sideways, but Bei Zhou’s sword continued with undiminished force, directly breaking through the window, and his whole person followed through.

Tu Er was stunned for a moment, then realized what was happening, but it was too late.

Another explosion sounded from behind, and his shoulder felt a sharp pain!

Tu Er let out a great shout and followed Bei Zhou through the broken window. His right shoulder was bleeding profusely, with a burnt smell mixing with the scent of blood, making one nauseated.

He rolled away from the window on the ground, stood up in the heavy rain, and tried twice but couldn’t raise his right arm. His eyes, like those of a ferocious wolf, shot toward Bei Zhou as if he wanted to devour him alive.

Bei Zhou clicked his tongue and said with regret: “The aim is poor.”

Tu Er switched the blade to his left hand: “Again!”

Inside the hall, the guards had been killed in disarray, with only four or five struggling to hold on.

The Empress Dowager, after collapsing for a while, noticed that the intruders seemed to have no interest in her life, and crawled toward the back door with her head lowered, trying to escape in the chaos.

Xiahou Dan had shot and killed four Yan people with his gun, but the rest were hard to aim at, and he accidentally wounded a secret guard.

However, with the gun in hand, the Yan people didn’t dare approach easily.

How many bullets were left? Three? Four? He couldn’t remember clearly.

He took a deep breath and raised the gun again, when suddenly he heard a guard cry out in alarm: “Your Majesty, behind you!”

Xiahou Dan turned sharply, only managing to avoid the vital point.

Ha Qi Na, who had snuck up on him, thrust his sword into Xiahou Dan’s right chest.

Perhaps because he was accustomed to pain, Xiahou Dan first felt a bone-chilling coldness, then belatedly felt the pain.

He mechanically raised his hand and pulled the trigger.

Ha Qi Na fell.

Xiahou Dan knelt on the ground, unsure whether to pull out the sword from his chest. The wound was beginning to feel numb, possibly poisoned. Thinking of this, he still gritted his teeth and pulled out the sword, blood pouring out.

Outside the hall, guards who had seen the situation turning bad had already rushed into the rain, intending to run down the mountain to find imperial guards for reinforcement.

They hadn’t run far when they heard a whistling sound from above. Before they could look up, they were pierced through the heart by an arrow.

A cry of surprise came from the woods, followed by the sound of something heavy falling.

After this happened several times, Bei Zhou noticed and while dealing with Tu Er, he shouted from the window: “There’s an ambush in the woods, not letting us down the mountain!”

The Empress Dowager, who had almost crawled to the door, startled and looked back at Xiahou Dan. Xiahou Dan, kneeling on the ground, was also looking up at her.

As their gazes met, he unhesitatingly pointed the dark barrel of the gun at her.

The Empress Dowager’s vision darkened, and she instinctively let out a miserable scream.

But Xiahou Dan lowered the gun barrel and with a “bang” shot her in the leg.

The Empress Dowager let out another heart-rending scream: “Xiahou Dan, you dead—”

Xiahou Dan: “Is Mother planning to perish together with me?”

“What…” The Empress Dowager’s mind was in chaos, in such pain that tears and mucus flowed freely, “The people in the woods aren’t mine! My people are in the city—!”

Everything had happened too quickly for Xiahou Dan to sort through his thoughts.

Now, hearing the Empress Dowager’s wail, he understood.

Prince Duan.

The Empress Dowager was still crying out: “It’s not me, let me go…”

Xiahou Dan smiled: “Mother, I never thought that after all our years as mother and son, today we would both meet our end here. But the fortunate thing in this misfortune is that your mausoleum can now be put to use.”

After saying this, his smile became a bit more genuine, as if he had amused himself.

The Empress Dowager’s cold sweat and mucus flowed down together: “You… you’re a madman…”

But Xiahou Dan shook his head: “Unfortunately, I can’t die yet.”

How many bullets were left? Two? One?

He propped himself up and finished off another Yan person who charged forward.

“Someone is still waiting for me to return.”

Yang Duojie exited the door of a side hall in the lower palace and walked toward the next one.

From earlier, the thunder outside had been continuous, coming in waves from far to near, as if some enormous creature in the nine heavens was stepping closer, wanting to use lightning as a blade to split Mount Bei.

Yang Duojie’s heart was inexplicably pounding, and he tightened his neck.

Another thunderclap and the palace attendant beside him were so startled that the umbrella handle tilted, drenching half of Yang Duojie’s body in rain.

Yang Duojie was about to bow his head and walk into the room when his steps suddenly paused, and he turned his head toward the direction of the offering hall.

Was that last sound… thunder?

The trees on Mount Bei trembled in the dim, unclear weather. In the distance, the horizon looked like a pool of thick ink spreading, layer upon layer of cloud mountains collapsing, transforming into a primeval flood pouring down.

Suddenly, a black shadow flashed in the corner of his eye!

Yang Duojie looked more carefully. It wasn’t an illusion; someone was running wildly down the mountain. It was a palace guard.

The guard abandoning the Emperor? Was he fleeing in panic or going for reinforcements?

Something serious had happened in the offering hall.

Yang Duojie struggled internally for a moment, but ultimately his sense of duty conquered his survival instinct. Being a minister for even a day meant fulfilling a minister’s duty. He grabbed the umbrella from the terrified palace attendant and walked quickly toward the offering hall.

Two more people came running toward him, dressed as Xiahou Dan’s secret guards: “Lord Yang, wait!”

Yang Duojie: “What’s happening in there?”

The secret guard’s expression was solemn, briefly saying: “The Yan people are assassins.”

Yang Duojie immediately understood and was about to rush forward again, but the secret guard stopped him: “We’re going to notify the imperial guards. Sir, don’t go to the offering hall and don’t go down the mountain. Find a secluded place to hide, don’t waste His Majesty’s kindness.”

After hurriedly explaining, they left Yang Duojie and ran toward the dark forest.

Yang Duojie stood dumbfounded on the spot.

Kindness.

Yes, earlier the Emperor had sent him away because he sensed something was wrong and deliberately let him avoid danger.

What kind of emperor waits for his ministers to rescue him in life-and-death situations? What kind of oddity pushes his ministers away?

He recalled the look Xiahou Dan had given him earlier. There was no smile in it, no brilliance, only cold calculation—precisely the “sages are without sentiment” look that had always made him uncomfortable.

Before today, Yang Duojie had always thought that Xiahou Dan considered him a useful chess piece.

Now he understood: he was indeed useful, but not to the Emperor.

The Emperor wanted to protect him even when facing death because he was useful to the world.

Xiahou Dan’s inspiring speech on the painted boat back then, he had never taken it seriously: “Everyone must stand straight and be the backbone of Great Xia.”

Yet an emperor’s promise weighs more than nine sacred cauldrons.

Yang Duojie couldn’t articulate what he was thinking, only feeling numbness in his limbs and blood rushing through his veins. He mindlessly charged toward the offering hall, but after just a few steps, he heard strange noises from the forest behind him.

One of the secret guards who had stopped him earlier had fallen to the ground with an arrow in his back. The remaining one was engaged in a bitter fight.

Yang Duojie hurriedly hid behind the nearest corridor pillar and peered out.

Upon closer inspection, he discovered bodies on the ground in various directions throughout the forest. Besides guards and secret guards, there were also some bodies dressed in plain clothes.

The person fighting with the secret guard in the forest was also in plain clothes. These ambushers didn’t display their identity, but Yang Duojie wasn’t a fool. With a little deduction, he knew they were either Yan people or Prince Duan’s suicide squad.

Prince Duan wanted to let the Yan people kill Xiahou Dan and the Empress Dowager.

The remaining secret guard was skilled; even after being ambushed and injured, he managed to grit his teeth and kill the ambusher before collapsing.

Yang Duojie’s breathing quickened. He could see that during their fight, no other ambushers had come to help, indicating that the ambushers in that direction had been temporarily cleared out, creating a gap in the encirclement.

So, at this moment…

This thought hadn’t even fully formed before his body had already taken the initiative to rush out from his hiding place.

Yang Duojie felt he had never run so wildly in his life. He plunged into the forest, past the bodies lying crosswise on the ground, down, down, shaking off branches and leaves, shaking off the pounding rain—

The mountain became steep, each step he took was slippery, and gradually there was no path to walk—

“Over there!” Someone shouted from behind.

How many people had that bastard Prince Duan deployed?

Yang Duojie twisted his ankle and fell face-first into the mud, his hands deep in the mire, unable to get up. As he struggled to look back, he saw someone on a tree behind him drawing a bow.

Yang Duojie no longer tried to get up but rolled directly down the steep slope.

In a dizzying spin, he was like a broken branch, washed down by mud and water, faster and faster, until he finally stopped after hitting a fallen giant tree.

His whole body was in excruciating pain, and he couldn’t tell how many bones he had broken. His clothes were torn, and his flesh was bleeding. Yang Duojie gasped for a moment, supported himself against the giant tree, and continued downward.

Through the gaps in the trees, he finally saw the foot of the mountain.

Before Yang Duojie could feel tears of joy, the hair on his back suddenly stood up. From somewhere above his head came the sound of a bowstring being tightened again.

This moment was infinitely extended, with the voice of the dead secret guard echoing in his ears: “Don’t waste His Majesty’s kindness…”

Yang Duojie’s eyes were about to burst.

He shouldn’t die, he shouldn’t die!

He used all his strength to lunge to one side—

The sound of something cutting through the air.

The sound of a heavy object falling to the ground.

Yang Duojie propped himself up, checked his intact limbs, and turned his head to look. The ambusher who had just drawn his bow had fallen to the ground with a dart in his body.

“Lord Yang?” A woman’s voice called him.

A farm woman and several men who looked like peasants ran toward him. When the farm woman spoke, Yang Duojie was shocked to hear Yu Wanyin’s voice: “What happened to you?”

“Imperial Consort Yu!” Yang Duojie disregarded everything else and shouted, “There might still be people in the forest!”

Yu Wanyin abruptly stopped, looking up.

In the rain, among the trees, it was impossible to make out any figures.

Suddenly a flash of blade—not from above the trees, but from behind them!

This blade was instantly before her eyes—

Yang Duojie heard Yu Wanyin take a deep breath.

At this critical moment, an explosion sounded in Yang Duojie’s ear, nearly deafening him.

This sound was remarkably similar to the one from the direction of the offering hall earlier.

Yang Duojie covered his ears in panic. Yu Wanyin herself stepped back two paces and fell to the ground. The ambusher who had emerged from behind the tree now had a bloody hole in him, but he wasn’t dead yet and persistently swung his blade toward her.

Another bang.

This time Yang Duojie saw clearly: Yu Wanyin was holding a strange object, pointing it directly at the man’s forehead.

The man’s brains and blood splattered on the tree behind him, a red and white mess. He swayed before falling to the ground, his blade rolling and touching Yu Wanyin’s foot.

The last time Yu Wanyin killed someone, it was through Consort Su’s hand, and she hadn’t personally seen Xiaomei’s body. She had vomited then.

Now with an actual corpse right before her eyes, she didn’t feel nauseated again; it all seemed unreal.

The scene before her eyes floated like a dream, and even the dead fellow looked like a prop dummy.

After all, wasn’t this entire world fake?

“Your Highness!” The voice of a secret guard brought back her awareness, “Are you injured?”

Yu Wanyin’s stomach belatedly cramped in pain, but she gritted her teeth and endured it. No, even in this world, there was still one person who was real.

She turned to Yang Duojie and urgently said: “Tell me the situation.”

Yang Duojie reported as briefly as possible.

Yu Wanyin’s mind raced. She looked at the four secret guards who had followed her and pointed to two of them: “You two, carry Lord Yang and seek help.”

Secret Guard: “Yes!”

“Lord Yang,” Yu Wanyin patted him, “the future of Great Xia now rests on your tongue.”

Yang Duojie left.

The remaining two secret guards showed hesitation: “Your Highness…”

Yu Wanyin’s face was deathly pale as she clutched the gun tightly: “I’m fine. Let’s hurry up the mountain.”

In her chaotic mind, she suddenly had the most inappropriate thought: last night under the corridor lights, why didn’t she just kiss him?

The secret guards moved extremely fast, carrying Yang Duojie and running wildly, approaching the city gate.

Yang Duojie was covered in blood, and the imperial guards at the gate hurriedly stopped them.

Yang Duojie shouted hoarsely: “Where is Commander Zhao? Take me to see Commander Zhao!”

Zhao Wucheng had already given orders that any developments must be reported. The gate guards didn’t dare to neglect this and sent someone to fetch him.

When Zhao Wucheng saw Yang Duojie’s state, his heart relaxed considerably: it seemed Prince Duan was close to success.

While Yang Duojie was still urgently calling for rescue, Zhao Wucheng interrupted him: “Who are you?”

“I…” Yang Duojie reported his identity.

Zhao Wucheng stroked his beard: “In your condition, with just a few peasants, you dare to claim you’re from the Imperial Observatory and presume to mobilize the imperial guards?”

Yang Duojie trembled with anger, frantically searching his body, but all items that could prove his identity had been lost during his tumble down the mountain.

Zhao Wucheng: “Guards, arrest him for questioning.”

All the blood in Yang Duojie’s body turned cold.

He could certainly find ways to prove himself, but by the time he finished all this trouble, would there be anyone left alive on Mount Bei?

In the torrential rain, Bei Zhou and Tu Er had exchanged hundreds of moves, neither able to break free.

In terms of martial arts, Bei Zhou far surpassed Tu Er, who could only use his left hand. But Tu Er was determined to die, each move designed for mutual destruction as if he wanted to perish with Bei Zhou on the spot. Bei Zhou, however, was still concerned about Xiahou Dan in the offering hall, and for the moment, was being suppressed.

In the offering hall.

Whether invaders or guards, almost all lay on the ground, some dead, some wounded, unable to move.

In the entire hall, only three Yan people remained standing.

They were all elites under Tu Er’s command, who had traversed countless blood and fire to reach this point, and they grew more fierce with each battle. Even at this final juncture, they didn’t relax at all. They held the remains of dead guards in front of their chests as meat shields formed a formation, and approached their final target step by step.

Xiahou Dan sat on the ground in the depths of the offering hall, blood pouring from his chest, one hand holding the gun, moving it back and forth as if looking for a weakness.

Only he knew in his heart that this was merely a bluff. The gun chamber no longer contained any ammunition.

The enemy continued to approach slowly.

Today he truly wouldn’t be able to return, would he?

Xiahou Dan looked back at the half-dead Empress Dowager, feeling only deep regret. Had he known he wouldn’t survive today, he shouldn’t have wasted that bullet on her leg earlier, but should have directly dragged her down with him.

He had many regrets.

He hadn’t seen Prince Duan kneeling before him. He hadn’t seen the two countries cease war, with bountiful harvests of millet. He hadn’t fulfilled his promises to Cen Jintian and more ministers, letting them see clear rivers and peaceful seas, harmonious times, and abundant years.

Countless regrets passed like fleeting shadows, yet the clearest image remaining in his mind was of the small hot pot in the Cold Palace, steaming and bubbling.

If he could see her again…

Three explosions.

The three men blocking his view fell one after another, revealing the wide-open door behind them.