Footsteps sounded behind her—her personal troops had caught up. Also arriving were some of the Blood Riders from the nearest stations to the city gates.

Di Yiwei inquired and learned that the general defending the city had just been killed, leaving the defending army without leadership.

At this time, there was no point hoping the court would arrange a general in time—they couldn’t wait for that.

The Five Armies Commander-in-Chief’s Office was definitely busy suppressing chaos within the city and couldn’t spare personnel.

Di Yiwei pointed to Liu Chen, who had accompanied her this time.

“Liu Chen, I’m entrusting this city to you. Do you dare defend this city for His Majesty!”

“I dare!”

Di Yiwei nodded, then removed her token from her waist and tossed it to a subordinate serving as a roving officer.

“Take this to Commander Xia Hou. I’m placing all twenty thousand of my elite troops remaining in the capital under his full command. Also report today’s events at the city wall to the Crown Princess and request her decision.”

The roving officer accepted the order and departed.

“Commander, what about you? Aren’t you going to lead us in defending the city?”

Di Yiwei turned to look north.

“I’m going where I’m needed most,” she said. “The city gates must be defended, but the national borders must be defended even more.”

She turned again to glance in the direction of the imperial palace.

The Great Qian had fallen into its most critical moment in twenty years.

And you too have fallen into the most painful situation, body and soul, in eighteen years.

But I hope you can bear it.

I believe you can bear it.

She turned, threw out a rope, hooked it to the city wall, and slid down.

Her personal guards made the same motion.

“Leave the city!”

“Return to Yongping!”

…

During last night’s heavy snowfall, He Zi was painting in his study.

He had already gone to sleep, but habitually suffered from insomnia. At midnight he got up and dressed, went to his study and picked up his brush again.

When he went to his study, he passed his only old servant’s room and heard loud snoring from inside. He couldn’t help but shake his head and smile, thinking that at this age, to sleep so well—what a blessed person.

He entered his study and closed the door. No one was ever permitted in his study.

The small room had paintings covering all four walls.

All painted by himself.

All of the same person.

Practicing swordplay, traveling, cooking, drinking wine.

His wife.

Everything about her was the most beautiful in his memory.

When she passed away, she was not yet thirty, in the prime of her youth, with flowing eyes and long dark brows.

Yet he would rather have her beside him now with gray hair and wrinkled skin, mutually complaining about whose snoring was louder.

He Zi skillfully spread paper and ground ink. He disliked being served, and aside from one old servant he had taken in along the way, there wasn’t a single servant in the small courtyard.

He didn’t live in a grand mansion with courtyard upon courtyard, but had requested a professor’s quarters at the Imperial Academy, living next door to the Imperial Academy’s Chancellor.

His Majesty and the Crown Princess had offered to grant him residences several times, but he had refused them all.

He liked staying close to his students.

This location was near the palace city, surrounded by many high ministers’ residences, centrally positioned, convenient for all affairs.

Outside the window, wind and snow raged. He Zi looked up, gazing at the storm, remembering his wife practicing swordplay in the snow many years ago.

Graceful as a startled swan, elegant as a wandering dragon.

Today he would paint his wife’s snow sword practice.

He Zi was skilled at painting his wife—with just a few strokes, the figure leaped onto the paper. As he was selecting colors, he suddenly heard a distant thunderous sound.

He Zi’s heart jumped. He immediately set down his brush, opened the window, and looked out.

But the wind and snow were too fierce—he could see and hear nothing clearly.

He pondered for a long while, feeling that uneasy sensation growing stronger. Suddenly he extinguished the lamp, turned to put on his cloak, opened a secret compartment in the study wall, took out a small bundle he had prepared long ago, and walked toward the back courtyard.

Passing the old servant’s room again, he stopped, thought for a moment, turned and climbed the steps.

The snoring in the room had stopped at some point, but he paid no attention. He knocked on the door and said, “I’m going out on business. If anything happens, remember to hide in time.”

There was no sound from inside. He Zi turned and went down the steps. Walking to the back wall, he pulled on a bundle of dried wisteria hanging on the wall.

That section of wall turned, becoming a small door.

He passed through the door—next door was Imperial Academy Chancellor Kong Wanliang’s home.

The idea for this door came from a story he’d heard about Di Yiwei being saved by a village woman. He too had opened a door in his courtyard.

But this door could only be used to cross from his side to Old Kong’s house—it couldn’t be opened from Old Kong’s side.

Kong’s wife had passed away recently, and Old Kong lived alone in the back courtyard. At this moment, the courtyard was completely dark.

He Zi stood in Kong Fangliang’s courtyard, listening to the rustling snow, looking at the sky like a dome. The entire capital seemed to be sleeping.

He suddenly felt he was being somewhat absurd.

Perhaps it was just auditory hallucination, yet he had fled like a startled bird.

Probably from handling the Xiao family affairs recently, his nerves had been stretched too tight.

He was about to go back and finish his painting when he suddenly felt the ground trembling slightly.

At the same time, through the wind and snow, he faintly heard the sound of hoofbeats, clashing swords and blades, and countless wind sounds of rustling garments.

…

On Sifang Street, just an arrow’s shot from He Zi’s home.

Xiao Gong, who had just been rescued from the Ministry of Justice prison, still hadn’t had time to remove his prisoner’s clothes. Draped in a cloak, he stared coldly at the quiet small courtyard not far ahead.

After leaving the prison, the old, weak, women, and children of the family were taken to safe places to hide, while the remaining men had more important tasks tonight.

Control the high ministers, threaten the imperial family!

His task was He Zi.

The current Grand Tutor, the Crown Princess’s teacher, the foremost literary minister in the realm, the greatest leader of the royalist faction.

Capture him, and even if the Crown Princess could still survive, she would be caught in a dilemma.

If she couldn’t protect He Zi, the scholars throughout the realm could drown her in their spittle, and she could never hope to sit securely on the throne again.

Xiao Gong looked at the small courtyard ahead, his expression both gloomy and triumphant.

So father’s endurance was to achieve rebirth after destruction.

It was to use himself as bait, lull the imperial family into complacency, and gain responses from all sides—assassination in the palace, fires breaking out in four directions throughout the capital on this snowy night, leaving the imperial family beset by internal and external troubles, overwhelmed.

Thus, the Xiao family’s recent retreats and grievances were worthwhile.

Once they captured He Zi and these other loyal old dogs, if they didn’t obey, they’d kill a few first—let’s see who would still wave flags and shout for Tie Ci in the future!

Xiao Gong was so delighted he almost burst out laughing. With a wave of his hand, he charged toward the small courtyard.

A large group of Da Yan riders with high noses and deep-set eyes followed behind him.

Few people knew that the Xiao family had always maintained good relations with Da Yan.

When the Xiao family controlled Yue Li Academy, Ma Deneng from Da Yan acted tyrannically at the academy because his maternal clan had long been allied with the Xiao family.

Da Yan’s maternal clan was a great Da Yan tribe, but they envied the prosperity of the Central Plains and had entered the pass early to trade. Over time, the Great Qian side had almost forgotten the Ma family’s Da Yan identity.

But actually, the Ma family had always maintained contact with Da Yan, and using the convenience of trading with the capital, they operated horse farms and trained their own Da Yan cavalry.

Also using business as cover, they changed all these people’s identities to Great Qian, disguised them, and slowly sent them to the capital. Once there, they either lived among the common people with ordinary identities or went directly into the equally vast underground areas beneath the Xiao family’s great mansion, hidden from the world.

This was slow but safe. The Xiao family had spent nearly two years accumulating this small batch of Da Yan people, patiently waiting until now to bring them out.

Actually, they wouldn’t play a major role, but in the minds of Great Qian people, Da Yan people were savage blood-drinkers, fierce and cruel, who inevitably massacred cities wherever they went—their very mention could stop children from crying at night.

The sudden appearance of Da Yan people in the capital would have obvious devastating effects on the capital’s civilians, very useful for creating panic and further throwing the capital into chaos.

Xiao Gong was confident that after tonight, the capital would once again be the Xiao family’s domain!

Then he would make Tie Ci kneel at his feet begging for mercy, drag her by her hair through the long streets, let the capital’s people get a good look at this shameless woman, throw her into the Ministry of Justice prison, and greet her with every torture device the Ministry possessed!

Xiao Gong’s eyes blazed as he charged into the small courtyard that could be crossed in just a few steps.

But he didn’t find He Zi.

The bedding was cold—it had never been opened.

“Seventh Master, there’s an old servant here!” A rider dragged in a trembling old man.

Xiao Gong kicked the man down with one foot. “Where’s He Zi!”

“I don’t… don’t know…” the old servant cowered on the ground, eyes full of terror. “I was sleeping the whole time… woke up to see you brave men… spare my life, brave men, I have a few dozen coins under my pillow.”

“Get lost!” Xiao Gong kicked again, sending the old servant rolling out of the study and tumbling into the snow.

He looked around irritably.

He Zi had actually escaped.

Then he saw the courtyard next door.

“The Imperial Academy Chancellor is also an important literary minister, and the Imperial Academy under him controls scholarly traditions. Let’s go next door!”

Xiao Gong hurriedly led his people out.

Next door, He Zi heard them as soon as Xiao Gong entered.

He rushed into Kong Wanliang’s bedroom and without a word pulled him from bed.

Chancellor Kong hurriedly dressed. Hearing He Zi’s brief explanation of the situation, his face also changed.

The two old men rushed out, just hearing Xiao Gong interrogating the old servant next door and saying he was coming to the Kong house.

The two old men looked at each other.

Both knew they absolutely could not fall into the Xiao family’s hands as hostages.

But at this moment, in the freezing weather, where could two old men go?

He Zi gritted his teeth, grabbed Kong Wanliang, and rushed toward the wall connecting to his own courtyard.

He crouched down, signaling Kong Wanliang to step up. “Over the wall! They won’t search places they’ve already been!”

Kong Wanliang immediately understood. “What about you!”

“You first, quickly!”

Bang—the main gate had already been broken open. Soon they would enter the rear courtyard.

He Zi exerted force and directly boosted Kong Wanliang over the wall, flipping him into the snow next door.

Then he tried to climb up using hands and feet.

But footsteps had already entered the second gate.

He Zi’s heart grew cold, knowing he absolutely couldn’t make it in time.

Since the Xiao family dared to escape prison and capture ministers, they must have backing. The capital had very likely fallen into chaos, and the palace might also be in trouble.

Under these circumstances, once he was caught, he would certainly be used to threaten the imperial family.

He would become a sinner of the Great Qian, forever recorded in history for this moment of shame.

He Zi stopped climbing and slowly straightened up.

He was already living on borrowed time anyway. When he died and how he died didn’t matter.

But he couldn’t die in a cowardly way, die in frustration, die while burdening others!

The footsteps were close at hand.

He Zi bent down, drew a knife from his boot, and hid it against his wrist inside his sleeve.

He wasn’t in a hurry to commit suicide.

Anyone who wanted to take him hostage had better be prepared to be stabbed to death by him first.

With a creak, the second gate opened.