The Eastern Palace
The watchman’s clapper for the hour of Zi had already sounded, yet the Crown Prince showed no sign of intending to rest. Hands clasped behind his back, restless and uneasy, he paced back and forth in his bedchamber, glancing now and then at the dark, cold stillness beyond the hall.
Not far from him stood a palace attendant, half his body hidden in shadow, his voice pitched low but carrying a tone of patient, coaxing persuasion. “Your Highness, everything Her Ladyship has done for you over the years, I needn’t elaborate — surely you already understand it all. This is no time to grow soft-hearted. Whether you can continue to hold your position in the Eastern Palace depends entirely on tonight’s arrangements. Her Ladyship mentioned just the other day how decisively you acted that night, killing Female Official Qin without a moment’s hesitation — it spared you no end of future trouble. You see, a person simply cannot afford to be soft-hearted. The moment you waver, it invites endless calamity and trouble without end.”
“It’s not that I haven’t the heart to kill Eleventh Brother,” the Crown Prince said hesitantly. “It’s only that Eleventh Brother is different from the others — he’s been deeply trusted by the Emperor these past years. We need to find a way to do this without leaving any trace, so as not to draw Father’s suspicion.”
A flicker of disdain crossed the attendant’s cold eyes. This child — after all the effort his mother had poured into putting him on the throne — was simply too indecisive. Was this really the time to fear the Emperor settling old scores? The proper course was to find a way, as quickly as possible, to silence everyone who knew the truth of what had happened back then.
If they kept hesitating, given Prince Lan’s heir’s decisive and ruthless methods, the position of Crown Prince that had been so painstakingly schemed for would soon be handed over to someone else — and not a single one of those who had once concealed the truth from heaven would escape.
Could it be that what Celestial Master Li had foretold all those years ago was truly correct? That a person’s fate was already set in stone, and that no matter how capable one was, even able to defy heaven and alter another’s destiny, one could never escape the fixed allotment of one’s own fate?
In an anxiety like nothing he had felt before, the attendant’s voice unconsciously took on a sharper edge. “Your Highness, the longer you remain indecisive, the more uncontrollable the situation will become. Prince Lan’s heir is not a man to sit and await his fate, and Prince Lan has only this one legitimate son — he will never simply allow us to move against him. If we want to turn defeat into victory, the very first thing we must do is strike down father and son together.”
“But Eleventh Brother handles things with great method, and holds Father’s token, which lets him command the Yulin Guards — by now he’s surely already taken precautions…” The Crown Prince still could not bring himself to a decision. He was not afraid of conflict — he was afraid of failure.
The attendant genuinely could not stand the Crown Prince’s hand-wringing, and raised his voice. “Has Your Highness forgotten your own status? You are the rightful, proper Crown Prince, the prince the Emperor has cherished and raised in the palm of his hand these many years like the apple of his eye. Even if the Yulin Guards answer to Lin Xiao’s command, would they truly dare show you disrespect? What’s more, Your Highness still holds the Garrison Commandant’s Office in your grip, full of seasoned soldiers and able officers. In troops, in legitimacy, Your Highness holds an unshakable, winning position no matter how you look at it — what exactly are you so afraid of!”
What was he so afraid of? The Crown Prince paced back and forth a couple of restless steps, then suddenly stopped and stared fixedly ahead. Ever since he had learned he was not actually born of Consort Hui, he had lost his ease and composure before his father, an invisible shackle settling permanently on his shoulders. Hardly a single night had he slept in peace since, forever dreading the day his secret might be exposed and his father would cast him down from the clouds into the mud.
At times, when the fear became too much, he even secretly resented the woman in Yongshou Palace whom he supposedly called his birth mother, resenting her for scheming to claim for him a title that was never rightfully his, putting him — who had known nothing of it — onto the fire to roast, trapping him in a position he could neither advance from nor retreat.
He had no love for a life spent in constant scheming and exhausting calculation. His father had spent these years clearing away every thorn for him, paving a smooth path to the throne — his claim was so utterly legitimate that he had never needed to engage in the cunning and treachery his father’s generation of princes once had. All he needed to do was wait for the right moment, then calmly receive, in due course, the imperial seal that governed all under heaven, straight from his father’s hands.
But now, the woman he had once believed to be merely a stepmother had come to tell him: everything he possessed was built upon blood. He needed to be like her, ceaselessly wielding the blade of hell, in order to maintain his present position and peace.
For the sake of all this, he had killed the woman he loved with his own hands, and now he was being pushed to move against his own brother. From now on, he would no doubt be forced again and again into acts that went against his very heart.
He even harbored a suspicion he dared not dwell on too deeply — the fear that one day he would grow utterly weary of this furtive, concealed existence, and turn his blade instead toward the father who had cherished him for twenty years.
“Your Highness!” The attendant’s patience had finally run dry, and he spoke up again in warning. “Prince Wu still hasn’t entered the palace by now — at this point, you are the only one left to make the decision. If you keep wavering like this, we may truly all be swept away in one stroke by Prince Lan’s heir!”
The Crown Prince shook his head forcefully, casting aside the inappropriate, intrusive thoughts swirling in his mind. “Make the preparations. I will go out of the palace at once to find General Jin of the Garrison Commandant’s Office. Also, take my token and send a rider at full speed to meet Xia Di — his troops come from the Garrison Commandant’s Office and must answer to my command. Tell him not to delay along the way, and to return to Chang’an swiftly to join us.”
Seeing that the Crown Prince had finally come around, the attendant allowed himself a faint, subtle smile, and went down to make the arrangements.
Just as he reached the hall’s entrance, a young palace attendant came in to report in a low voice, “His Majesty had another nightmare just now — he spoke of dreaming of Consort Hui, though the details of the dream weren’t clear, and he woke in a cold sweat. Fearing that the nightmare had drained His Majesty’s vitality, Consort Yi has already sent for Yu Ruoshui to examine him.”
The attendant exchanged a glance with the Crown Prince, and seeing him fall once more into uncertainty, as though hesitating over whether to go check on his father, said in a tone of warning, “Your Highness, don’t forget what I just told you. Which matter is more urgent and which is less — surely you don’t need me to spell it out. You can weigh that for yourself.”
The Crown Prince dared not waste any more time. He strode forward, descended the steps, and walked out of the hall.
Once the attendant saw the Crown Prince leave, his expression darkened, and he hurried off in the direction of Yongshou Palace.
Yuan Jue had just lowered part of his body into the well when he suddenly heard a faint stirring from below. His movements froze; looking down, he saw what looked like the secret passage door beginning to open.
Unable to confirm whether it was Lin Xiao returning, he didn’t dare go any further down, and instead crept lightly back out of the well, slowly raising a hand into a defensive stance.
Qing Xuzi had heard the sound too, and drew out his whisk, standing guard alertly, his eyes fixed intently on the mouth of the well.
Qin Yao had just come out in her fur cloak, and seeing this, hurried over to the well, holding her breath as she peered down inside. A moment later, she saw Chang Rong brace himself against the rim of the well and leap up out of it, with Wei Bo and the others following close behind.
Catching sight of Qin Yao, Chang Rong had no time for formalities, and spoke urgently. “My lady, everything at the academy has been arranged. Tonight, we need to use the breaking of the array to lure the snake out of its hole. The young master has specifically ordered us to bring you all back to Chang’an.”
“Lure the snake out of its hole?” Qin Yao said, startled. Could it be that Lin Xiao had already guessed who that skilled practitioner beside Consort Yi truly was?
“I’ll explain on the way.” With matters now pressing, there was truly no time to lay out the full story. Chang Rong then turned to Qing Xuzi and Yuan Jue beside her. “Master Qing Xuzi, Abbot, there’s no time to lose — please, both of you and my lady, come with us to the academy at once.”
Qin Yao did not delay any further. Wrapping her outer robe tightly around herself, she went back into the room to grab the talismans she had just finished drawing, then took the Soul-Devouring Bell from her sleeve and hung it around her neck. Once ready, she returned to the courtyard, only to find her master and Yuan Jue standing still once more.
The two of them stared intently at Chang Rong, asking him, “Does the young master intend to genuinely break the array, or merely stage it? Did he say anything about A’Han? Is he to stay behind in the hideout, or come with us?”
Hearing this, A’Han hurried out from the room. “Master, A’Yao, Abbot, I want to go with all of you!”
“It’s a genuine attempt to break the array,” Chang Rong confirmed. “The young master said that person and Consort Yi are far too cunning to easily leave behind any evidence. The only thing they cannot afford to abandon is the formation within a formation at the academy — even knowing it means walking into a mountain of blades and a sea of fire, that person will have no choice but to show themselves, doing everything possible to stop us from breaking it.”
Hearing this, Qin Yao and the others all thought to themselves that this was indeed a direct and effective method, one that could also suppress the Maiden Star ahead of time as a side benefit. But Consort Yi’s forces were no small matter, and both the Crown Prince and Prince Wu commanded plenty of troops of their own. If that person went to the academy to protect the array, Consort Yi would surely send enough soldiers to guard him. If they rushed in recklessly, not only might they fail to break the array, they could even be captured outright by Consort Yi.
They wondered whether Lin Xiao truly had enough strength to match such odds.
But Qin Yao also knew that Lin Xiao had always been a cautious man — for him to make such an arrangement could only mean he had already made thorough preparations.
“Very well, let’s go.” Yuan Jue and Qing Xuzi exchanged a glance at the bewildered, helpless A’Han, then resolutely led him to the well. Qin Yao stood stunned for a moment before hurrying to follow as well.
One by one, they descended into the secret passage. As Qin Yao walked, her earlier apprehension gradually settled into resolve. Tonight would surely be a fierce battle.
Press forward, and perhaps the dawn’s light awaited. But to merely hesitate and remain rooted in place would mean being swallowed forever by the boundless dark.