Compared to the vast and imposing procession of court officials, the inner palace was remarkably quiet and serene, showing not a single sign that anything was amiss with the Emperor.

Xiao Liu drew a deep breath. His mentor had said Hao Yue was trouble, and trouble it must be — he trusted his mentor’s judgment. Yet behind him, some of the court officials had already begun to slow their steps. Now that the initial impulse had passed and they could see the tranquil scene within the inner palace, clarity returned to them. If the Emperor truly was unwell and had merely chosen not to appear, then they…

As though he had eyes in the back of his head, Xiao Liu called out in a clear voice: “You gentlemen may wait for General Zhou to arrive together. I shall go on ahead.”

The officials exchanged glances. Some took the opportunity to hold back, but the majority still followed. They had already come this far — what difference was there between fifty steps and a hundred?

At that moment, Xiao Liu turned his head and took in the sight of those trailing behind him: the Duke of Dingguo and the Duke of Angguo, the ministers of the Six Ministries, and even the Minister of Rites Wei Congwen had not stayed behind. There were those from his own camp whom he recognized, and there were officials with whom he had never had any dealings. They might have doubts in their hearts, yet in the end they had followed — following him toward the light, or perhaps toward the abyss.

Xiao Liu bent deeply at the waist and bowed in a deep salute. Whatever calculations might lie in their hearts, at this moment they were genuinely concerned for their sovereign. This was what officials of Daqing ought to look like. His mentor had once said that in ordinary times it was fine for people on the same side to fight behind closed doors — a love of infighting was simply the nature of the people — and that so long as officials could keep their heads clear at critical moments, they could be put to use. He felt that the officials before him now were exactly the kind his mentor had spoken of.

The court officials returned the bow in unison. No words were needed; everything was understood without being said.

Turning away, Xiao Liu’s steps never faltered again.

Through one long corridor after another, past one palace hall after another, the group came to a stop before the Emperor’s bedchamber.

Xiao Liu raised his head and looked at the plaque above the entrance. His expression held a composure that seemed to belong to someone far older than his years. He gave no instructions to anyone else, but stepped forward himself and pushed open the heavy palace doors.

Inside, every person who should have been there — and some who should not — were all seated. The two groups regarded each other across the threshold.

This unexpected sight stunned everyone. The court officials fell to their knees and kowtowed, their hearts full of dread as they waited for the Emperor’s thunderous wrath.

For a brief instant, Xiao Liu’s mind went blank as well, but then his mentor’s words came back to him and he steadied himself.

Composing himself, he stepped over the threshold and entered the hall. Now he could see more clearly: at the head of the room sat his Imperial Father and the Empress Dowager, while below them were seated the Four Consorts. Fu Gang, commander of the Imperial Guards, stood to one side with his head bowed. Several members of the Seven Lodges Division that he recognized stood guard behind the Emperor.

Indeed — not a single one was missing.

He lifted the hem of his robe and knelt to pay his respects. “Your son greets Imperial Father and greets the Empress Dowager.”

“Xiao Liu has grown capable, it seems.” The Emperor regarded him with an ambiguous smile. His gaze swept briefly toward those outside. “Earlier, We still did not believe you would lead the court officials to force your way into the palace, yet the evidence is now right before Our eyes. What do you have to say for yourself?”

The Duke of Angguo wanted to enter the hall and speak on behalf of the Sixth Prince, but the Duke of Dingguo, sharp-eyed and quick, seized his arm and held him in place, giving him a slight shake of the head. Any words spoken in defense of the Sixth Prince at this moment would be adding fuel to the fire. They had to wait for the right opportunity. In a situation like this, only the Sixth Prince himself could navigate it. He could only hope that what the young man had learned from Hua Zhi was not only boldness, but also how to conduct himself in a crisis.

Xiao Liu did not disappoint him. He raised his head, his tone carrying the youthful vitality unique to young men: “Does Imperial Father know that there are remnants of the Zhaoli faction within the palace?”

“We are aware.”

“Your son asks further: does Imperial Father know that early this morning, a courtyard was discovered within the city that contained not only a large quantity of food and weapons, but also imperial ceremonial robes?”

The Emperor gave a cold laugh. “Was this not a trap of your own devising, used as a pretext to force your way here?”

“A trap that can be broken simply by Imperial Father showing his face?” A chill spread through Xiao Liu’s heart. “Imperial Father has not shown himself for ten days. Those outside cannot enter; not a single piece of news has come out from within. Even the news of Zhaoli remnants in the palace failed to stir any response. The report of a treasonous conspiracy delivered to the palace received no reaction whatsoever. Rumors spread throughout the capital and the officials are in a panic. As a son and as a prince of Daqing, what was Your son to do? What if you had truly been taken captive by Zhaoli remnants and were waiting for your son to come to your rescue? What if some villain had trapped you with poison? You say your son is forcing his way into the palace — yet General Sun is currently stationed at Shouya Pass, and your son has neither military authority nor anyone to rely on. A single word from you and all five garrisons in the capital answer to your command. Had that come to pass, your son would face nothing but death. What reason would I have to force my way here?”

“You have Hua Zhi behind you devising strategies; you have the openly declared support of the chief of my Seven Lodges Division; you have military officers, the Lu Family, the Zhu Family, and numerous other court officials — and you call this having no one to rely on? Xiao Liu, Xiao Liu, if not for this scheme, We would not have known that you had quietly won over half of Our court officials. You truly have been busy.” The Emperor’s complexion flushed red. His spirit was strangely animated; he even stood up and circled Xiao Liu once. In that moment he actually appeared somewhat younger than before.

Xiao Liu’s mind buzzed. He knew he was caught in a trap, yet someone had already planted this impression deep in his father’s mind long before now. He did not know how to break free of it.

“Xiao Liu, do you confess your guilt?”

Xiao Liu raised his head. He had no guilt to confess, yet if he did not take this upon himself, his mentor, Yanxi-gege, and all the court officials who had followed him here — everyone who stood on his side — would suffer. Perhaps the very purpose of someone’s scheme was precisely this point.

He looked toward Yuepin, seated at the lower left. She was lovely in appearance, and because she was seated, her pregnancy was especially prominent. By his reckoning she must be nearly due, yet this woman who was about to become a mother harbored such a serpent’s heart.

Feeling his cold gaze upon her, Hao Yue instinctively stroked her belly. She lowered her head and gently raised her handkerchief to conceal the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. Things had already come this far — what could his hatred do to her?

“Your son…”

“The Empress Dowager believes in Xiao Liu.” The Empress Dowager, who had been sitting with her eyes half-closed like a figure carved from wood, suddenly rose to her feet. She walked to Xiao Liu’s side, crouched down, and gently stroked the reddened corners of his eyes. “He is Consort Zhen’s son. Does the Emperor still remember Consort Zhen?”

The Emperor paused. It had been many days since he had thought of that woman who could find contentment and ease within the small world she had created for herself.

“Among all the consorts in the rear palace, the one Aijia admired most was Consort Zhen. Aijia had even thought of elevating her to the position of Empress and entrusting her with the phoenix seal. But she was remarkably perceptive — Aijia had barely hinted at it in private when she deftly steered the conversation away. Later, when she was gravely ill and Aijia went to visit her, she made one request of Aijia.”

Hao Yue lowered her gaze and made no move to interrupt. Even if this allowed the Sixth Prince to keep his life, what of it? He would have no more opportunities. Besides, the Emperor might show mercy to a son, but toward Hua Zhi, toward Gu Yanxi, that was far from certain.

The Empress Dowager gently patted Xiao Liu’s hand. “Consort Zhen asked me — if the opportunity ever arose, to send Xiao Liu far away. Even a small fief in some remote and desolate place would do, as long as it was as far from the imperial city as possible. She saw through the life-and-death struggles of the palace early on and only wanted her son to have a peaceful life. Xiao Liu, did Consort Zhen ever leave you with any instructions?”

Xiao Liu bit down on his lip, desperately holding back the tears that welled up at the thought of his mother. His voice came out hoarse: “Mother said the world outside is vast. She asked me to go and see its beautiful scenery in her place, to taste the local delicacies from every region. She said a man who is confined to the capital is a man without prospects, and she wanted me to become a person of worth…”

Xiao Liu lowered his head. Tears slipped down his cheeks. He missed his mother.