Emperor Qizhen pushed away the young eunuch holding the umbrella beside him and walked step by step through the thick snow to stand before Jingrong.

Invisibly, a sense of oppression swept around Jingrong along with a cold wind.

Yet he refused to retreat even half a step!

Until the next instant, Emperor Qizhen reached out and suddenly gripped the back of his neck, pulling forcefully forward.

Jingrong was forced to lean forward by this restraining force on his neck.

The distance between father and son was close at hand!

Emperor Qizhen’s eyes were ice-cold as he spoke in an imposing voice: “Do you know that right now, you are the only one I place my hopes in? You are my son, the future Emperor of Great Lin. What you should carry in your heart are plans for the rise and fall of the realm, the glory of the nation’s victories and defeats. What you should hold in your hands is the state and its altars, not learning from Jinghua and Jingyi to oppose me and force me. You understand me and know me well. If you remain obstinate, I will change the heir apparent and depose you!”

Uh!

Jingrong’s expression remained unchanged as he gazed at those cold, furious, sharp eyes.

Emperor Qizhen’s large hand gripping the back of his neck applied even more force as he asked: “So, do you want the great rivers and mountains? Or do you want to continue investigating the Linjing Case that will never have results?”

With that, he released him.

On one side was the throne, on the other was the truth!

Choose one!

However, Jingrong’s cold, hard face showed not the slightest hesitation. He swept his robe and knelt on the ground.

“I earnestly request Father Emperor to order the exhumation.”

Both knees knelt in the deep snow, the cold penetrating through the thick fabric, slowly spreading into his body.

Facing such stubbornness, Emperor Qizhen stepped back, his chest aching with anger. He seemed almost crazed, both furious and laughing, his eyes full of disappointment.

“Good, good! I have truly raised a fine son! Jinghua was like this, Jingyi was like this, and now you are like this too.”

His voice rolled through the cold air, cool as a thin blade.

Leaving these words behind, Emperor Qizhen turned and left!

Jingrong continued kneeling in the snow, his body straight, hoping his father emperor would nod and agree to his request.

But—

He didn’t!

The snow grew heavier and heavier, covering his dark hair in white, flakes flying chaotically, blurring his vision and chilling his heart…

Emperor Qizhen returned to Fuyang Hall and smashed everything inside to pieces. He swept the incense burner from the table, and it rolled to the ground, spilling all its ashes.

Raising a layer of gray dust.

Emperor Qizhen was pained. “Back then, Duke Yuguo was like this, and today Jingrong is also like this—all trying to force me, to oppose me.”

The echo lingered.

Carrying a hint of sadness.

Seeing this, Zhang Quan stepped forward to console him. “Your Majesty, please don’t harm your body.”

“Harm?” He laughed coldly, looking at Zhang Quan. “You tell me—what exactly must I do to make this matter pass forever?”

Helpless!

Zhang Quan lowered his head. “As long as Prince Rong stops investigating, this matter can pass.”

“I was wrong—wrong to entrust this case to him. Now, to uncover the truth of what happened back then, he would rather give up the throne.” He furrowed his brow tightly again. “Could it be that Duke Yuguo truly didn’t die?”

Zhang Quan: “Your Majesty, don’t overthink. If Duke Yuguo were truly still alive, why wouldn’t he have shown himself in these fifteen years? And even if he really is alive, he poses no threat to Your Majesty. Moreover, Your Majesty acted out of necessity for the state, its altars, and the people of the realm.”

For the state and its altars?

For the people of the realm?

What was the real truth, actually?

About half an hour later, a eunuch came to report.

“Your Majesty, Prince Rong is still kneeling in the Imperial Garden.”

Through the latticed window, Emperor Qizhen glanced outside. The snow continued to fall, the cold wind whistling sharply. An ordinary person standing in such weather for the time it takes to burn a stick of incense would probably shiver with cold, let alone someone who had been kneeling for half an hour.

“He truly is my son—equally stubborn!”

The eunuch: “Then Your Majesty, do you need someone to…” bring the prince back to the palace?

Before he could finish, Emperor Qizhen interrupted.

“Let him be.”

Let him be?

The eunuch didn’t dare say more and could only withdraw.

Emperor Qizhen pressed his forehead, his temples throbbing with intense pain.

That day, Jingrong’s stubbornness kept him kneeling for an entire day.

A eunuch placed a brazier beside him to prevent him from freezing into an ice block.

The wind and snow didn’t stop. Just when it seemed he could barely hold on, a pair of shoes appeared before his eyes.

A woman’s shoes!

The shoes were not of fine quality, made of coarse cloth—most ordinary—yet embroidered on them was a pair of exquisitely detailed cranes.

Lifelike.

Ji Yunshu held an umbrella, holding it over his head, looking down at the stubborn man kneeling on the ground, tears immediately welling in her eyes.

She crouched down, her gaze level with his, looking at him with heartache, reaching out to cup his ice-cold face.

Too cold!

She finally couldn’t hold back her tears.

Jingrong’s weakly drooping eyes looked at her, and a smile gradually appeared at the corner of his mouth.

“I’m fine.” His voice was weak and hoarse.

After gently brushing away the snow from his head and shoulders, she wrapped her slender arms around him.

Trying to warm this man up.

She choked out: “Let’s go back.”

The man’s ice-cold body trembled violently in her embrace. He parted his slightly cracked lips and said word by word: “How I hope we were both wrong, how I hope that person… isn’t him!”

His voice trembled, mixed with distress.

Ji Yunshu understood his feelings.

That understanding was empathetic understanding.

She could only hold this man tightly, warming his ice-cold heart.

But—

He still fell ill.

Collapsing into her arms.

“Jingrong? Jingrong?” She called his name again and again by his ear.

Jingrong’s heavy body pressed against her shoulder and chest.

He had lost consciousness!

And the umbrella in her hand also fell at that moment. In an instant, the flying snow covered both of them like cotton flowers, flake by flake.

Finally, palace servants carried Jingrong out of the palace and sent him back to Prince Rong’s manor.

Upon learning the news, Muruo rushed over immediately. Seeing Jingrong’s nearly frozen body, he was both worried and cursed: “This block of stone is just too big—his head is full of stones! Knowing it’s such cold weather, yet still kneeling in the snow for so long—does he not want to live!”

Ji Yunshu sat by the bedside, constantly rubbing Jingrong’s hands.

The room quickly filled with braziers. Quilts were added layer upon layer, and hot towels were changed one after another.

Finally, his body was warmed, and he was out of danger.

Ji Yunshu remained by the bedside, unwilling to leave.

She touched Jingrong’s face, which was gradually regaining color, and tears fell one by one.

“Why can’t we stop? Why? From the beginning, I shouldn’t have agreed to let you come to the capital. If not for that, today we wouldn’t be caught in such a dilemma—on one side is your father emperor, on the other is the truth about Duke Yuguo’s household. It concerns the imperial family, concerns Wei Yi, concerns the old servants of Duke Yuguo’s household, and concerns that army of a hundred thousand. How to choose? How can we choose?”

She leaned forward against his chest, her hands gripping the bedding tightly.