The mournful wail of horns and the clanging of warning bells carried in from outside the hall, reverberating throughout the palace city.

Yuxiu and I both started. Before either of us could speak, a guard outside the door announced, “Commissioner Wei requests an audience.”

“It appears Song Huai’an has also moved quickly.” I glanced at Yuxiu with a smile. Her complexion, already corpse-white, grew even more ghastly and ashen.

I gripped the armchair and forced myself to stand. Yuxiu reached out to help me, but I brushed her hand away with my sleeve — and between the two of us, a distance of a step immediately opened.

She paused, standing there motionless with her hand still extended.

“Which side you stand on — that is for you to choose.” I sat back down and stripped away the soft warmth from my expression, fixing her with a cold, penetrating stare. “If you have decided to be my enemy, then show the bearing of Madam Song!”

Yuxiu bit her lip and said nothing. Tears had clearly gathered at the corners of her eyes, yet she stubbornly lifted her chin.

I looked away and called out in a raised voice for Wei Han to enter.

The hall doors opened and Wei Han strode in, hand resting on his sword. The white iron mask gleamed with a cold light. “This subordinate reports to Wang Fei — Song Huai’an has used the tiger seal to take command of approximately fifty thousand troops from the eastern outskirts garrison. He has ordered the sealing of all twelve gates of the capital’s perimeter, putting the entire city under martial law. No one is permitted to enter or leave.”

Only fifty thousand? I gave a faint curl of my lip and asked Wei Han, “And the remaining ninety thousand?”

“All stand fast, watching from the sidelines.” Wei Han’s voice rang like metal striking metal. “It is reported that there is some unrest at the main garrison camp, but General Xu Yikang has issued strict orders to each battalion to hold their positions and not act without authorization. The situation in the camp has gradually been brought under control.”

Well done, Xu Yikang. I quietly noted that name. If this crisis could be resolved, he would deserve the foremost credit.

I considered for a moment and asked, “Where are Song Huai’an’s troops now?”

Wei Han said, “They have already entered the inner city, splitting into two columns. One column moves directly against the palace gates; the other is stationed outside the city.”

“The column heading for the palace — do you know how many troops?”

“Not yet determined.” Wei Han lowered his head.

I nodded. “Continue reconnaissance! Tell Commander Pang to hold the palace gates fast and be ready to fight at any moment!”

Wei Han received the order and departed.

Yuxiu trembled faintly, struggling to maintain her composure, but her lower lip had been bitten to bleeding.

I drew a silk handkerchief from my sleeve and handed it to her, not looking at her. “What do you think — what are his chances of victory?”

Yuxiu took the silk handkerchief and pressed it to her lips, as though she had resolved to oppose me with silence to the end.

“If the Prince were still alive — what do you think his chances would then be?” I turned my gaze toward her and spoke with quiet detachment.

Yuxiu’s body swayed. Her pupils suddenly dilated in shock.

I looked at her quietly and said nothing.

She suddenly could not find her voice, and stared at me in alarm. “How can this be — the memorial clearly stated that the Prince had already… already…”

“Which is precisely why it could deceive Song Huai’an and cause him to lower his guard, so that I was able to strike first and seize the initiative.” I smiled and held her gaze. “This is what they call turning an enemy’s scheme against them. What does Madam Song think?”

I wanted her to understand that her husband had already walked into this trap from the very beginning — and had had no chance of victory from the start. Even if he could storm the palace, kill me, and seize the capital, he could not escape Xiao Qi’s reach all the same. Awaiting him would be Prince Yuzhang’s army arriving at the city gates, unleashing a massacre to wash away the rebel forces in blood.

Yuxiu sank to the floor, her complexion ghastly white and near the point of collapse.

The sound of boots outside the hall doors — Wei Han had withdrawn less than a moment ago but now came hurrying back. “Reporting to Wang Fei, intelligence has arrived: Song Huai’an has ordered men to surround Prince Yuzhang’s residence and Prince Jiangxia’s residence, finding neither vacant. He has ordered a search of the entire city. All infants of one year and below are being taken away.” I gritted my teeth and said nothing, but at my side came a low cry — Yuxiu pressed her hand tightly over her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears, her shoulders shaking violently.

Wei Han cast a glance at her and continued: “Song Huai’an is now personally leading twenty thousand troops and moving in this direction. When they arrive, with heavy forces surrounding the palace gates, I fear that news from outside will be difficult to pass within.”

“No matter — what must come will come.” I raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Commander Wei — are you prepared?”

“This subordinate and his brothers in arms swear to live or die with the palace city.” Wei Han stood tall and looked directly at me, his eyes behind the iron mask burning bright — and fleetingly I was back to that cold night outside Ningshuo, those same burning eyes appearing in the darkness, full of resolve and courage, saying to me: “This subordinate has come under Prince Yuzhang’s orders to provide support, and is charged with keeping Wang Fei safe and sound.”

At Ningshuo, at Huizhou, and today — so many fine men who could advance to open new territory or fall back to give their lives in loyal service, who regarded life and death as nothing — these were the iron-blooded soldiers who followed under Xiao Qi’s command.

From the direction of the palace gates came once more the low mournful wail of horns. Wei Han hurried away.

Yuxiu gazed vacantly in the direction of the palace gates, her complexion a frightening pale-green, but she had ceased shaking and weeping.

In the dead silence of the hall, she lowered her head, her expression unreadable, and when she finally spoke her voice was low and hoarse. “Hu Guangyuan was killed by him.”

I was not surprised, nor angry — I only felt a deep and pervading sorrow. That rash, blunt young man had been nothing more than a pawn. Song Huai’an killed him to force Hu Guanglie into rebellion, making him the first soul sacrificed to the blade.

Yuxiu raised her head and looked at me directly, that gaze making me feel somewhat unsettled.

She gave a desolate smile. “It was for Ying Niang’s sake that Huai’an had long wanted to kill him.”

I was taken aback. “Who is Ying Niang?”

She seemed not to have heard my question, and continued as though speaking to herself. “The day Huai’an brought Ying Niang back to the residence, Hu Guangyuan came to the door making a scene, claiming to offer congratulations but very nearly coming to blows… All these years, I had never seen him lose his composure in such a fit of rage.”

I listened in bewilderment. It seemed that for the sake of a woman, Hu Guangyuan and Song Huai’an had harbored a grudge between them from an early point?

Yuxiu looked at me with a strange expression, seeming both to laugh and to grieve. “Ying Niang was nothing more than a singing girl. Huai’an had long been infatuated with her — only because you had previously scolded him for taking a concubine, he had not dared bring her home. On that day at the Qixiang Pleasure House, Hu Guangyuan was drunk and tried to fight him over Ying Niang, and in a fit of rage Huai’an took her away. That very night Hu Guangyuan showed up at the door making trouble, claiming to offer congratulations while in fact mocking him.”

I was growing impatient with this tale of rivalry over a woman and was about to cut it short, when I heard Yuxiu say slowly, “If not for the reckless words Hu Guangyuan spoke that day, Huai’an would not have suddenly moved against him.”

“What words?” I asked in startled curiosity.

Yuxiu gazed at me with a distant look and said, “He mocked Huai’an, saying that the more he looked at this woman, the more she reminded him of a certain person, and asking whether the Right Chancellor harbored a hopeless longing for that very person.”

Her voice was soft and faint, yet to my ears it struck like a thunderclap.

A face flashed before my eyes like lightning — one I felt I had seen before. That beautiful concubine in green… No wonder she had seemed familiar. Those brows and eyes bore a marked resemblance to my own features.

Song Huai’an had always been close to me in the capacity of a brother-in-law, and everyone in the capital knew that he and Prince Yuzhang were both subjects and friends, and that toward the Wang Fei he was both loyal and devoted.

The feelings he had harbored in secret in those former years — they should have faded with the passing of time. Yet Hu Guangyuan’s words, whether intentional or accidental, had laid bare this hidden secret…

My heart beat in wild agitation. My neck and cheeks were clearly burning hot, yet my back had gone ice cold.

Yuxiu’s gaze was like a thorn in my flesh — I did not dare meet her eyes. She had clearly known of this for some time. When had she first come to know — and for how long had she silently endured it?

I suddenly pressed my hands over my face and slowly sank back into my chair, feeling as though enormous waves were flooding in from every direction.

Wave after wave of unexpected revelations — how many more “surprises” still awaited me to uncover, and how many more “surprises” could this merely mortal body of mine withstand?

With sorrowful composure, Yuxiu told me the full story of the Ying Niang affair —

That day, the two men — Hu and Song — had come to blows on the spot. And somehow, word of it reached Xiao Qi in secret. Just as the standoff held, Xiao Qi arrived in a fury, slapped Hu Guangyuan’s face with his palm so that blood poured from his nose and mouth, and when Song Huai’an stepped forward to accept punishment, Xiao Qi merely cast one glance at Ying Niang huddled fearfully in the hall, then immediately ordered his guards to strangle her.

With the woman dead, there was nothing left for anyone to fight over — and the source of the rumor was thus erased. Yet Song Huai’an, defying all expectation, drew on seven parts of wine and stood boldly in her defense, directly defying Xiao Qi.

After a prolonged standoff, Xiao Qi finally spared Ying Niang’s life — but punished Huai’an by making him kneel in the courtyard for an entire night, and issued a strict prohibition: anyone who let word of that evening’s events leak out would be executed without pardon.

Thinking it over, I vaguely recalled one night when Xiao Qi had returned very late, with traces of anger still lingering on his face. When I had asked him about it, he had simply said it was official matters weighing on his mind — and at the time I had not thought any more of it.

Xiao Qi had clearly known that Song Huai’an was proud and high-spirited, that he was an arrogant man — and yet he had deliberately humiliated him before others, as a veiled warning.

Under the heavens, no one could vie with Xiao Qi, whether for the empire in his hands or the woman at his side — neither was to be coveted by another.

Xiao Qi had long had the intention of stripping the powerful ministers of their military authority — this was no matter of a day or two. At the time, the factional struggle between Hu and Song was at its most intense. Song Huai’an, with his soaring ambitions, was working to marginalize the Hu faction at every turn and striving to consolidate military power entirely in his own hands — and this had already drawn Xiao Qi’s displeasure.

And that clash of tempers had without question shattered the already fragile trust between Xiao Qi and him, driving him down a crooked path.

After that, Xiao Qi led his campaign in person, assigning each of the two men an important charge. Hu Guanglie was given command of the vanguard forces and dispatched to the northern frontier; Song Huai’an held great authority in the capital. On the surface, Xiao Qi’s trust in his two chief ministers, left and right, had not been shaken in the slightest by Tang Jing’s betrayal — rather, he had doubled his reliance on them. Toward Song Huai’an specifically, he had first openly rebuked and disciplined him as a warning — and then afterwards entrusted him with heavy responsibility, placing absolute confidence in him. This could be called a masterful balance of authority and favor. At the time, Xiao Qi had still given Song Huai’an one final chance.

What a pity that Song Huai’an, in the end, allowed himself to be led astray by ambition and private desire, and committed this irrevocable error.

Yuxiu looked at me and gave a sorrowful smile, tears sliding down the corners of her eyes.

I was silent for a long while before at last I managed with great difficulty to speak. “Yuxiu, whatever happens today, however it ends — I have no regrets toward you… Except for that one thing: knowing everything, I still arranged your marriage to him. That is what I have been ashamed of to this day.”

Yuxiu turned her head away and tears fell in a stream. “You need feel no shame — in those days it was my own willing choice.”

I suppressed the stinging in my eyes and slowly spoke. “If time could reverse and take us back to that day — knowing this would be the outcome, would you still be willing to accept the arranged marriage?”

“Yes — I would still be willing to marry him.” Yuxiu spoke with sorrow yet with absolute firmness.

I gave a faint smile, from the bottom of my heart to my throat all bittersweet.

Were we given that same choice once more, Yuxiu would still be willing to stand at his side as his wife — and I, too, would unhesitatingly accept the imperial marriage decree and become the Wang Fei of Prince Yuzhang.

In the quiet inner hall, two women sat facing each other in stillness. Between them lay grievances and obligations that could not be crossed — and a bond of affection that could not be severed.

All these years, we had come through one storm after another together. We had walked all the way to this day — only to find ourselves in such a situation as this.