Su Jin lowered the side curtain. Hu Yuanjie asked: “Is it because the Crown Prince learned that this humble envoy was eager to return home and specially ordered the accompanying guards to travel faster?”

Su Jin replied: “Yes, that is precisely by the Crown Prince’s instruction.”

Hu Yuanjie sighed with emotion: “When I met the Crown Prince previously, I found him quite taciturn. He only asked this humble person about Annan’s customs, whether accompanying people to Annan might find it difficult to adjust, and so forth. I never imagined he would be so thoughtful in private about everything. Using your Great Sui’s words, one could say he has a truly warm heart.” As he spoke and thought further, he added: “Though all of your Great Sui’s imperial princes are people of such fine character. This morning before departure, the Twelfth Prince even made a special trip to see this humble person off.”

Zhu Qiyue?

Su Jin was quite astonished to hear this.

Zhu Qiyue ordinarily handled only military affairs and paid no attention whatsoever to court matters. Why would he suddenly concern himself with diplomatic relations between the Great Sui and Annan today?

Feeling suspicious, she asked: “I wonder what the Twelfth Prince said when he came to see off Envoy Hu?”

“He only inquired about the journey,” Hu Yuanjie smiled. “Lord Su may not know—the Twelfth Prince guards Lingnan and frequently campaigns at the border regions. Our people there have heard his name like thunder piercing their ears. Our Emperor Hu often envies Emperor Jingyuan, saying his several imperial sons are all brave and skilled in battle. Not to mention the Twelfth Prince and Crown Prince—I’ve heard there’s also a Fourth Prince who has guarded the Northern Pass for over a decade and can actually make those formidable Northern Liang barbarians flee in terror at the mere mention of his name.”

Hearing this, Su Jin thought to herself that Zhu Qiyue had come to see off Hu Yuanjie because of the military campaigns in Lingnan.

She lifted the carriage curtain again to look outside.

At the first quarter of the hour of the Tiger, heaven and earth were still pitch black, yet she was already anticipating daybreak, anticipating her return.

When Zhu Nanxian told her he wanted to set the date on the thirteenth of the seventh month, she had thought that day was perfect—because Zhu Nanxian was also ranked thirteenth, having been the Thirteenth Prince for so many years.

Never before in her life had she so eagerly anticipated something as she did today, counting down the hours one quarter-hour at a time.

By the time a trace of dim light appeared at the edge of the sky, it was already the middle of the hour of the Rabbit.

Zhu Qiyue stood atop the Chengtian Gate tower, gazing in the direction the Annan envoy had departed, saying nothing.

Unexpectedly, someone behind him called out: “Tenth Prince.”

Zhu Qiyue turned to look and was surprised to see that Zhu Yiheng had also come up to the gate tower.

“I heard from your men below that you’ve been standing here alone since last night. I was somewhat concerned, so I came up to check.”

Zhu Yiheng’s injuries had not yet healed, and his complexion was still very pale.

Zhu Qiyue was surprised: “Why did Tenth Brother come to the palace? Are you also going to see off First Imperial Brother today?” He asked again: “Are your injuries better?”

Zhu Yiheng smiled faintly: “Much better already.”

A young servant nearby draped a fur coat unsuited to the season over him and handed him a damp cloth.

Zhu Yiheng slowly wiped his hands with the cloth, returned it to the servant, and gave an instruction: “All of you withdraw.”

Though Zhu Qiyue and Zhu Yiheng didn’t usually associate closely, these two were actually born of the same father and mother—true blood brothers. After Consort Shu gave birth to Zhu Yiheng, because the Imperial Noble Consort had no sons, she was compelled to have Zhu Yiheng fostered at Chonghua Palace.

At that time, Consort Shu was heartbroken for a while over this, only improving somewhat after Zhu Qiyue was born.

Though the two brothers hadn’t grown up together, after understanding their blood connection, they spoke with more warmth than they did with others.

Zhu Yiheng came straight to the point: “Twelve, Tenth Brother asks you—is Zhu Zhaowei going to deploy troops today?”

If it were anyone else asking this question, Zhu Qiyue certainly wouldn’t answer. But telling Zhu Yiheng was harmless.

“Yes,” Zhu Qiyue said.

Zhu Yiheng was startled, then sighed: “Twelve, you haven’t listened to Tenth Brother’s words.”

At the beginning of the year when Zhu Nanxian was still imprisoned in the Eastern Palace, on one occasion Zhu Qiyue had asked Zhu Yiheng to go with him to pay respects to their birth mother, Consort Shu.

As the two rode on horseback, Zhu Yiheng had advised Zhu Qiyue: “Since you’ve chosen Seventh Brother, you shouldn’t constantly be thinking about saving Thirteen. The struggle for imperial power is most cruel. This bit of so-called compassion you have, thrown into this whirlpool, will ultimately only harm others and yourself. Between Zhu Zhaowei and Zhu Nanxian, you can only choose one. The other—even if you must cut bone and flesh—you should sever all ties of friendship with him.”

But Zhu Qiyue had replied: “I’ve always followed Seventh Brother, but I cannot abandon Thirteen. I’m actually not afraid of cutting bone and flesh, but I can’t bear to watch Thirteen be killed because of this fraternal struggle. He never wanted to be emperor in the first place. He only fell to this state because of the conflict between First Imperial Brother and Seventh Brother. I want to preserve his life. Once everything settles down, I’ll send him away.”

“One mountain cannot contain two tigers; one realm cannot accommodate two potential heirs to the throne. If you send Thirteen away, where would you have him go? In the struggle for imperial power, there’s no room for such righteousness. Such ‘loyalty and compassion’ can only be seen as weakness.”

Standing on the gate tower, Zhu Qiyue recalled Zhu Yiheng’s words of advice and said: “Now, I somewhat understand what Tenth Brother meant back then.”

He lowered his eyelids and reached out to touch the recessed part of the palace wall built of stone bricks: “It was me—desperately protecting Thirteen that harmed Seventh Brother.” He gave a low, bitter laugh. “Now Thirteen is determined to kill Seventh Brother. Seventh Brother knows he’s reached a desperate situation and must stage an uprising to fight for survival, but Seventh Brother—he’s never once blamed me.”

Zhu Yiheng turned his face to glance at Zhu Qiyue. After all, they were blood brothers—his swallow-tail eye corners were almost identical to his own. After thinking it over, he said: “If you’re willing to listen to me, then Tenth Brother will advise you once more today—since Thirteen managed to return from the brink of death, Zhu Zhaowei is already at the end of his road. You shouldn’t concern yourself with Seventh Brother anymore now. Just serve the court faithfully, serve the sovereign. The court is short of military officers. This realm will have use for your martial skills. The Great Sui’s borders are still waiting for you to guard them.”

Zhu Qiyue said: “Since Tenth Brother uses these words to advise me, you should know what kind of person I am. How could I possibly abandon Seventh Brother at such a critical juncture? When I was twelve years old and fell into the hands of mountain bandits, it was Seventh Brother who came and saved my life. Later when my leg bone fractured, he was the one who carried me on his back from house to house seeking physicians. The reason I am what I am today, the reason I could become a general—it’s all because Seventh Brother didn’t abandon me in my most perilous moment. I know he’s ambitious, and I know what he does can’t be called entirely right, but I cannot refuse to help him.”

Having said this, as if recalling some past event, he sighed with a smile: “Tenth Brother, you don’t know—when we were young, when many of us brothers still played together, everyone said Seventh Brother had the best, mildest temper. But actually I knew that wasn’t true. Once I went to find Seventh Brother and saw that a kitten had merely blocked his path, so he picked up that cat and drowned it in the pond. He knew I had witnessed his cruelty and viciousness. For a long time afterward, he was quite annoyed with me. That year when I fell into the mountain bandits’ hands, when he rescued me, he even said to me: ‘You’re so stupid—why didn’t you just die?'”

As Zhu Yiheng listened to Zhu Qiyue speak these words, he inadvertently thought of his birth mother, Consort Shu, with whom he wasn’t close, who always smiled at him from afar.

It was said she had been gentle as water all her life, never competing or grasping.

That’s why she raised this kind of Zhu Qiyue.

Always remembering others’ kindness, always wanting to repay it.

Even including him as the older brother—back then when he had wounded himself to let Thirteen escape and return, when Zhu Zhaowei wanted to kill him, it was also Zhu Qiyue who stopped it.

Such kindness placed in the struggle for imperial power was truly both pitiful and detestable.

Zhu Yiheng said: “Back then I told you many principles. Now I’d rather you didn’t understand them. From now on, go to the border passes. Don’t ever return here for the rest of your life. You should be a good general—killing enemies, breaking through foreign forces, campaigning in all directions. But you shouldn’t be an imperial prince.”

Zhu Qiyue asked: “Like Fourth Brother?”

Zhu Yiheng glanced at him, then gazed toward the distant sky. Mountains and rivers like a painting, vast and boundless. He smiled slightly: “Fourth Brother is different.”

Horn sounds came from the northern palace—it was nearly the hour of the Dragon. The funeral procession would depart soon.

Zhu Qiyue and Zhu Yiheng both turned to look toward the northern part of the palace grounds.

Zhu Qiyue’s gaze swept across Zhu Yiheng’s eye corners—the swallow-tail eye shape resembled Consort Shu. This elder brother his mother-consort had thought of all her life, feeling she had shortchanged all her life.

“Tenth Brother,” Zhu Qiyue said. “When late in the seventh month, on Mother-Consort’s birthday—let’s go see her together. We’ve never celebrated her birthday together.”

Zhu Yiheng had already responded to the horn sound and walked to the edge of the gate tower stairs.

Actually, he never much cared about such vulgar ceremonies. When people died, they were just a mound of yellow earth. Birthdays, memorial days—all were fleeting clouds and smoke.

But seeing the way Zhu Qiyue looked at him, he suddenly felt this brother who campaigned abroad, weathered by the winds and frosts of battlefields, actually resembled him greatly.

He suddenly felt that bond of flesh and blood. Then he nodded: “Good. Late in the seventh month, Tenth Brother will accompany you to see Mother-Consort.”

After Zhu Yiheng left the gate tower, Zhu Qiyue summoned a close attendant and asked: “Did you observe clearly? What route did Vice Minister Su and the envoy take?”

The attendant replied: “Reporting to the Twelfth Prince, they definitely took the official road. The Thirteenth Prince and Lords Liu and Shen don’t seem to know about the gunpowder matter.”

Zhu Qiyue was silent for a moment, then said: “Send someone to take the shortcut to guard outside Yingtian City. You must intercept the envoy before he reaches Yingtian City.”

The attendant didn’t understand: “If the Twelfth Prince doesn’t wish the envoy to come to harm, why not send men to immediately catch up with the escort convoy?”

“I must buy Seventh Brother some time,” Zhu Qiyue said. He asked again: “These past few days I had you take inventory—the soldiers in the Northern Great Camp who still obey this prince—have you finished the count?”

“Reporting to Your Highness, the count is complete. Including Your Highness’s manor troops, altogether nine hundred twenty-six men. They’ve now all been deployed outside the Imperial Mausoleum.”

“Good. Have them prepare and await my command at any moment. We must help Seventh Brother return to Fengyang.”

“Yes!”

The grand funeral procession was led by Crown Prince Zhu Nanxian, with various imperial princes and relatives following. There was no fixed number of ministers.

The Three Guards’ Imperial Troops didn’t all accompany them. Apart from the Zhongxiao Guard originally stationed at the Imperial Mausoleum, the Huben Guard, Jinwu Guard, and the Banner Guard managing ceremonial insignia each selected one thousand men.

When Zhu Nanxian arrived at the north gate, the military guards and imperial clan officials were already arrayed in formation.

He gazed into the distance and saw that today Zhu Zhaowei had indeed worn that imperially bestowed python robe. When their gazes met, Zhu Zhaowei actually smiled.

Zhu Nanxian ignored him. After drinking the sacrificial wine an inner attendant handed him, before mounting his horse he asked Qin Sang: “Has Zuo Qian already brought Du Zhen back to the palace?”

Qin Sang replied: “Reporting to Your Highness, the Left General just sent someone to report that he’s been brought back. Right now Lord Shen is using the warrants from the Ministry of Justice and Imperial Censorate to interrogate him.”

Zhu Nanxian made an acknowledging sound, but still felt somewhat uneasy.

He looked back and saw that among the officials seeing them off, only Liu Yun had come from among the Seven Ministers. After thinking it over, he said: “Have someone relay orders to Qingyue—whatever he learns from the interrogation, immediately send someone to the Imperial Mausoleum to report to this palace.”

Qin Sang said: “Your Highness can rest assured. Lord Shen said exactly the same thing.”

Only then did Zhu Nanxian nod and mount the imperial palanquin.

The horn sounded three long notes and one short. At the third quarter of the hour of the Dragon, the procession to send off Shen Jing and Zhu Minda departed.

When Shen Xi was interrogating Du Zhen and heard this horn sound, he shifted his gaze to the window outside, was silent for half a moment, then moved it back. Holding up the list in his hand, he said: “Speak. Which items on this list have problems?”

This list was one he had compiled during the night—all items from the Lingnan campaign account books at the beginning of the year with unclear weight calculations.

Du Zhen was bound to a square table chair and was still indignant: “Even if you’re to be promoted to Minister, we’re currently both Vice Ministers. What gives you the right to interrogate me like this?”

Shen Xi laughed once but didn’t avoid his verbal attack. With an effortless deflection, he said: “Though we’re both Vice Ministers, in the current court, both military and civil government are controlled by the Eastern Palace. With one word from me, taking your life or stripping your position would be child’s play.”

As he spoke, he withdrew his smile and said coldly: “I’m telling you this so clearly not to threaten you, but because I don’t want to waste time with you. Right now Zhu Zhaowei is at the end of his road and can no longer protect you. You’re clear about this yourself—otherwise why would you have tried to flee last night? Since you’ve been captured and brought back by the Jinwu Guard, you should understand that in this palace, apart from this official, no one else can save your life.”

He slapped the list on the table in front of Du Zhen and asked again: “Which items?” Then he said: “If you don’t speak, I’ll immediately apply torture.”

“I’ll speak, I’ll speak!” Du Zhen hurriedly said. His gaze scanned over the twenty-some items on the list, then timidly added: “But if I truly speak, can you guarantee you’ll spare my life?”

Shen Xi stood with hands clasped behind his back and laughed coldly: “Someone come! Apply torture!”

“Yes—”

Immediately two jailers carried torture instruments into the room.

At the sight of those instruments, Du Zhen was instantly terrified out of his wits. He said: “I’ll speak—it’s saltpeter, saltpeter!”

“Saltpeter?” Shen Xi was startled.

“Moreover…” Du Zhen raised his eyelids and cautiously stole a glance at Shen Xi’s expression. “Several years ago, the Seventh Prince, using the Grand Canal case as cover, secretly facilitated transactions and stockpiled quite a bit of sulfur.”

Saltpeter and sulfur?

This was for making gunpowder?

Shen Xi’s eyes instantly became cold as ice. After a moment, he asked: “Where did Zhu Zhaowei bury the gunpowder? The Imperial Mausoleum? Or somewhere else?”

Actually, having asked this, he already had the answer in his heart.

If it were the Imperial Mausoleum, that would actually be fine. The Imperial Mausoleum was imperial grounds. Since Zhu Nanxian was conducting the funeral for the Late Crown Prince and Late Crown Princess today, how could he possibly fail to detect it?

Du Zhen shook his head and said quietly: “It’s not…” Then he added: “It’s to be used against Vice Minister Su. I heard His Highness say it would be buried in Yingtian City.”

Hearing these words, Shen Xi was instantly stunned.

After a long while, he asked: “Has Zhu Zhaowei’s brain filled with water? Why would he target Su Shiyu?”

Du Zhen said: “I actually asked the Seventh Prince about this. He said only by targeting Su Shiyu would he have a thread of hope for survival.”

Only if something happened to Su Shiyu would Zhu Nanxian and Liu Yun, in their helplessness and panic, give him a sliver of hope for survival.

Wind blew in from outside the window, causing the organized list on the table to flutter noisily.

Shen Xi’s heart was in turmoil. He swept his hand across and knocked everything on the table to the floor. Then he said: “Doesn’t he know there’s also the Annan envoy in Yingtian City? When two nations are at war, they don’t execute envoys. Is Zhu Zhaowei trying to provoke a war?!”

But having said these words, he no longer had time to wait for Du Zhen’s answer.

He glanced at the sky again, forced himself to calm down, mentally calculated the timing, then ordered the guards standing nearby: “Immediately dispatch men to take the shortcut to Yingtian City. You must intercept them before the Annan envoy and Shiyu reach Yingtian City. Additionally, send men urgently to the Imperial Mausoleum to report this matter to the Crown Prince and Liu Yun.”

The guards acknowledged and withdrew after receiving orders.

Shen Xi had no desire to deal further with Du Zhen. Planning to find the account books to check for any oversights, as he pushed open the door to leave, he was suddenly struck in the eyes by the sunlight pouring down.

This dazzling, near-autumn blazing sun was just like the brilliant spring light that day at Zhaojue Temple.

Outside, officials large and small, hearing Minister Shen’s anger, were all kneeling in self-imposed punishment.

Shen Xi looked at the autumn sun, then at the dense crowd of people kneeling before him, and suddenly felt something was wrong.

Today’s deployment of troops at the Imperial Mausoleum was Zhu Zhaowei’s desperate gambit while trapped. He wouldn’t fail to leave himself an escape route.

He most loved to keep a backup plan hidden away.

And this time, what was his backup plan?

Gunpowder? Or Yingtian City?

Shen Xi’s face turned white in an instant, color rapidly draining from his cheeks. Only that single teardrop mole remained deep and luminous.

He walked back into the room, looked at Du Zhen, and asked in a low, quiet voice: “Was it Zhu Zhaowei who told you the gunpowder was buried in Yingtian City?”

“Yes, yes.” Du Zhen quickly nodded. In the moment Shen Xi had stepped out, he had already figured it out clearly—right now in the palace, only Minister Shen could truly save his life. So he added: “The Twelfth Prince also knows about this. Yesterday after leaving office, after the Seventh Prince told me this matter, the Twelfth Prince even quarreled with the Seventh Prince over it.”

After Shen Xi heard him finish, for a long while he seemed unable to stand steadily and staggered back a step. Then he shouted: “Someone come! Someone come!”

Jinwu Guard Commander Yao Jiang, who Zhu Nanxian had left at the palace, burst through the door upon hearing the call: “Lord Shen, this subordinate is here.”

Shen Xi said: “Go chase them! Quickly go chase the Annan envoy’s convoy! The faster the better!”

Yao Jiang glanced left and right. The Jinwu Guards on both sides acknowledged the order and swiftly withdrew.

Shen Xi made an effort to compose himself, then said: “Also go to the Imperial Medical Bureau. Leave one person there, and have everyone else leave the city. Follow the official road to chase Vice Minister Su and Envoy Hu. You must rescue them both.”

How should the gunpowder be handled? Shen Xi thought.

But at this moment, he no longer had time to think through each step.

“We also need to deploy troops,” Shen Xi said. “Yao Jiang, take all the men you can muster and rush along the official road. Also send someone to accompany this official to the Imperial Mausoleum!”

The auspicious time for burial was at the hour of the Monkey.

When Zhu Zhaowei arrived at the Imperial Mausoleum with the others, two quarters past the hour of the Goat had already passed.

He looked toward the distant sky. Today, for some reason, the near-autumn sunlight was brilliantly white. Every time the sunlight was this magnificent, it was his lucky day.

He was in a very good mood.

Naturally, not without reason.

Zhu Zhaowei thought: Did they really believe him when he said the gunpowder was buried in Yingtian City? Of course burying it in Yingtian City wouldn’t be bad either, but military tactics prize the unexpected. Why would he bury it so far away?

I heard Su Shiyu was in such a hurry to travel today? Zhu Zhaowei thought with pleasure. She had always been a composed person—what could she be in such a rush to leave and rush to return for? Racing toward reincarnation? At her speed, the gunpowder had probably already exploded.

Ahead on the Eternal Life Path of the Imperial Mausoleum, Liu Chaoming was leading the officials in performing a ceremonial bow to Zhu Nanxian.

Zhu Zhaowei felt even more pleased and couldn’t help but smile, thinking to himself: Too late.