Shu Shenhui received the news on the seventh day after the incident while on his return journey. Shocked and anxious beyond measure, he abandoned the main contingent and rode swiftly back to the capital with a light cavalry escort. Two days later, on the ninth day, while changing horses and resting at a roadside station, he encountered Chen Lun, who had departed from Chang’an to find him.

Chen Lun informed him that when the young Emperor first disappeared, Empress Dowager Lan initially concealed the truth even from Prince Xian, claiming only that the young Emperor was unwell and court sessions were temporarily suspended. She dispatched people to search secretly everywhere, throughout the imperial palace and then the imperial city. But the imperial city was vast with a population of one million; how could they find him in such a short time? With no trace of the Emperor and no sign of his return, by the evening of the second day, realizing she could no longer suppress the matter, and in utter panic, she was forced to seek Prince Xian’s help. Investigation revealed that the young Emperor had secretly left his chambers that night, hiding in the waste cart that was sent out of the palace each morning, without alerting anyone or catching the guards’ attention, successfully escaping alone.

The Emperor leaving the palace and disappearing without any attendants was an incident of utmost gravity. Prince Xian was profoundly shaken. While continuing to suppress the news strictly, he immediately dispatched trusted allies to expand the secret search. Beyond the inner and outer areas of Chang’an, considering that the young Emperor might have left the capital to find the Regent Prince, he sent Chen Lun on the road.

“Your Highness need not worry excessively. His Majesty is alone, and having never left the imperial city since childhood, he likely hasn’t gone too far. Perhaps during the days this humble minister has been away, he has already been found, or His Majesty has come to his senses and returned to the palace—”

Seeing the Regent Prince’s tense expression, Chen Lun feared he was overly concerned. After explaining the situation in Chang’an’s imperial palace, he offered comfort, but saw him remain silent, stride out of the station, mount his horse, knowing he intended to continue the journey, and hurriedly followed.

For the remaining journey, traveling day and night under stars and moon, finally, on this day in September, the party entered Chang’an.

By this time, more than half a month had passed since the young Emperor’s disappearance. Shu Shenhui, covered in travel dust, went straight to the palace. Waiting for him were Prince Xian, Fang Qing, and a few other ministers who knew the inside story, all deeply worried. Young Emperor Shu Jian, since disappearing that day, had vanished like a stone dropped into the sea, with still no news of his whereabouts. The palace maintained silence while publicly claiming the young Emperor had contracted a contagious disease and was unfit for public appearances.

Seeing that so much time had passed without the Emperor recovering and showing his face—something unprecedented—ordinary ministers, some worried and anxious, others suspicious and speculative, inevitably began spreading various rumors.

Prince Xian reported that during this half month, they had searched every possible location in the imperial city and were now continuing to search the capital’s surrounding metropolitan areas.

Originally, their greatest hope was that the young Emperor had gone to find the Regent Prince. Now that this expectation had failed, they could only hope that the young Emperor had left the capital in anger and was currently relaxing somewhere near Chang’an. Beyond this, they truly couldn’t imagine where else he might have gone.

Prince Xian was extremely remorseful, saying he was incompetent, had failed the Regent Prince’s instructions before leaving the capital, and had caused such great chaos, endangering imperial dignity. Speaking thus, he tremblingly prepared to prostrate himself before Shu Shenhui in apology.

After the incident, Empress Dowager Lan fell gravely ill, leaving both the inner palace and court affairs entirely on Prince Xian’s shoulders. While continuing to preside over court affairs and calm the ministers, he also had to search everywhere, exhausting his mental and physical energy, worrying day and night. Already advanced in years, after this ordeal, by the time Shu Shenhui returned, he could barely support himself. When prostrating, he couldn’t stand. Shu Shenhui stepped forward, caught him firmly, steadying him with gentle words of comfort, then instructed Chen Lun to escort Prince Xian home to rest, leaving all remaining matters to him.

After Prince Xian and others left, he stood alone in the Western Pavilion of Xuanzheng Hall, frowning deeply. While lost in thought, urgent footsteps sounded outside.

Empress Dowager Lan, supported by attendants on both sides, struggled up from her sickbed and hurried over.

She had always been extremely particular about her appearance. Whenever appearing before others, she was invariably magnificently dressed in splendid attire, graceful and dignified, even her gaze seeming gilded with golden light. However, in just over half a month, her appearance had drastically changed. She hadn’t been able to eat for several days, her hair disheveled, face deathly pale, eyes red and swollen. Since entering, her lips had been trembling uncontrollably. She still wore luxurious garments, but seemed to have lost her soul, leaving only an empty shell.

“Your Highness! Third Brother!”

She called out to Shu Shenhui, and tears immediately streamed down her face: “You’ve finally returned! I’ve been hoping day and night! Please help me think! Please think! Where might Jian’er have gone? It’s all my fault! I shouldn’t have argued with him! But I was doing it for his good, I truly had his best interests at heart. Why wouldn’t he understand my feelings for him?”

Tears flowed from the Empress Dowager’s red, swollen eyes. She broke free from those supporting her, abandoning dignity, and lunged toward Shu Shenhui as if grasping at a lifeline, spreading her ten stick-like fingers to grip his arm desperately. Though she seemed near death from illness, she somehow found the strength to dig her fingers through his sleeves, pressing deeply into the powerful arm of the young man before her with tremendous force.

“Third Brother, please think! Please help me think! You must help me find Jian’er! I’m begging you as your sister-in-law! You must—”

She stopped, suddenly showing fear in her eyes: “Third Brother, do you think something has already happened to Jian’er? He left the palace alone! With no one beside him! What if he encountered bad people? He’s still young—what if he had dark thoughts?”

Her entire body trembled, barely able to stand.

Shu Shenhui suppressed his disgust, withdrew his arm from her grasp, and ordered someone to escort this woman back to her chambers to recover. Only then did Empress Dowager Lan seem to regain some clarity, hastily adding: “Third Brother, please don’t misunderstand Lan Rong! It was entirely my decision! He’s devoted to serving the court and follows your every command. He wasn’t even in the capital then—he knew nothing…”

Shu Shenhui turned his face toward the window and saw one of Liu Xiang’s trusted men hurrying toward them. Leaving behind the still-explaining Empress Dowager Lan, he strode out of the Western Pavilion.

Liu Xiang, having just returned to Chang’an with him, immediately joined the search efforts and now brought the latest news. At a location downstream from the Wei River north of the city, someone had discovered a corpse that had been floating dead for several days, with height and age seemingly similar to the person they sought. However, due to the lingering summer heat, the floating corpse had been soaking in water for many days, causing the face to be swollen and damaged, making immediate identification difficult. After securing the area immediately, they requested his presence for examination.

Shu Shenhui felt as if struck by a heavy hammer, his vision darkening, his palms instantly covered in cold sweat. He left the palace through a side gate, quietly exited the city, spurred his horse into a mad gallop, and reached where the floating corpse was discovered.

A sealed canopy had been erected on the shore, with soldiers driving away curious bystanders who had come to gawk without understanding the situation. Liu Xiang led the men guarding along the riverbank. Seeing him arrive on horseback from afar, he stepped forward to meet him.

Shu Shenhui entered the canopy by the river. Inside, a corpse covered by cloth confronted his vision.

He stopped at the tent entrance, feeling unable to move forward. He stared for a moment, finally steadied himself, then stepped forward, walked to the corpse’s side, crouched down, reached out, and slowly lifted the covering cloth.

Liu Xiang waited outside, his mood extremely heavy. He couldn’t imagine what would happen to the court if the corpse inside the tent truly was the young Emperor, how the new wave of treacherous undercurrents would unfold… Lost in wild thoughts, he heard footsteps from within the tent.

A familiar figure emerged from inside. He rushed forward but dared not ask, only looking toward the Regent Prince.

His expression was calm as he slightly shook his head.

Liu Xiang understood. He breathed a long sigh of relief, watched the Regent Prince stride away, then immediately ordered the canopy removed and notified the Chang’an magistrate to come handle this nameless floating corpse.

His nephew had been pampered since childhood with delicate skin, but on his leg was an old burn scar from when he playfully set himself on fire as a child. The floating corpse’s face was unrecognizable, and though the skin had swollen from water immersion, careful examination revealed no trace of such a scar.

It wasn’t his nephew.

Shu Shenhui walked toward his mount when someone on the opposite side rode up hastily. Seeing him, without even stopping his horse properly, the rider dismounted and rushed toward him, falling to his knees and kowtowing heavily upon reaching him.

“This humble minister is guilty! Deserving of death!”

Lan Rong had arrived.

He had rushed back from the imperial mausoleum where he was supervising construction work after learning of the young Emperor’s disappearance. During this time, he too had led people searching everywhere, running east and west, going without sleep for several consecutive nights. His face was now dark and haggard, eyes filled with red veins. Looking up, his forehead had been cut by scattered stones on the riverbank, bleeding from broken skin.

“This humble minister is guilty—”

He repeated, kneeling before the Regent Prince, choking as he spoke. When his gaze fell on the canopy by the riverbank ahead, fear showed in his eyes: “Your Highness, inside there…”

He stopped, lacking the courage to finish the question.

Shu Shenhui stood with a face like still water, looking down at him for a moment before finally speaking faintly: “It’s not.”

Lan Rong seemed unable to support himself any longer. Hearing this, he collapsed, kneeling, motionless. Suddenly realizing the Regent Prince had stepped past him, he roused himself, crawled up, caught up, and knelt again, blocking his path.

“Your Highness! Things having reached this point, this humble minister knows his responsibility is grave. Everything is this minister’s fault—I absolutely won’t make excuses for myself. I have only one thing to say: I never harbored presumptuous thoughts of establishing my daughter as empress. If Your Highness doesn’t believe me, I swear an oath—if there’s half a lie in my words—”

He turned toward the Wei River, facing the rolling waters on that vast river surface, and made a curse: “Let Lan Rong be buried at the bottom of Chang’an’s Wei River, wrapped in fish bellies, forever and eternally, never to be redeemed!”

Shu Shenhui turned to look at him for a moment and said, “General Lan, please rise. The urgent matter is to find the person first.”

Lan Rong hurriedly kowtowed again, stood up, and said: “Yes! This humble minister will go immediately!”

Shu Shenhui returned to the palace at nightfall. Today’s news from various places had gradually gathered, still without any progress. Word came from Empress Dowager Lan’s side that she hadn’t touched food or water for several consecutive days, grief-stricken beyond consolation. During the day after returning to the palace, her emotions became agitated, and she fainted again—the imperial physicians were treating her. More word came that ministers, hearing of his return today, had gathered in crowds. The palace gates had long been closed at this hour, so everyone gathered outside. Prince Xian arrived upon hearing the news, and together with Fang Qing, announced that the Regent Prince had returned from his southern tour and was tired from the journey, ordering officials to disperse first. But everyone refused to leave and remained gathered outside the palace gates, where they usually waited for morning court.

Shu Shenhui ordered the gates opened to admit them.

Li Xiangchun and Zhang Bao helped him change clothes. He closed his eyes and raised his arms, standing motionless before a huge golden mirror polished to mirror brightness. Li Xiangchun held the crown with both hands, finally placing it securely on his head.

“Your Highness, it’s ready,” Li Xiangchun said quietly.

He opened his eyes, not looking at his reflection in the mirror, turned, and walked out.

Though it was deep night, Xuanzheng Hall in the imperial palace was still brightly lit. Dozens of central court officials and metropolitan officials of fourth rank and above had gathered here. Some stood in their positions, eyes closed, waiting alone. Others formed groups of three to five, discussing in low voices. Amid buzzing chatter, accompanied by a eunuch’s announcement of “The Regent Prince arrives,” the noise abruptly ceased. Everyone with their various thoughts quickly returned to their positions, turning to see a familiar figure appear outside the hall entrance.

The Regent Prince, who had returned to the capital during the day, had arrived. Dressed in court robes, under the gaze of many eyes around him, he walked with his characteristically steady and vigorous stride through the hall, ascending to take his seat.

Everyone paid their respects to him in unison.

Under the bright light like daylight, he sat upright in his position, dignified in countenance and spirited in bearing.

With the young Emperor’s continued absence for many consecutive days, despite the palace’s explanation of his suffering from a severe contagious disease making him unfit for public appearance, these recent days had seen small rumors circulating secretly throughout the court, suspecting that the young Emperor had suffered some unspeakable accident, perhaps even endangering imperial dignity.

After all, the large-scale deployment of the Six Armies’ soldiers, such commotion, no matter how secretly maintained or disguised as routine security patrols, couldn’t be completely without ripples. Everyone felt anxious and fearful.

But tonight, at this moment, seeing the Regent Prince return and appear, with everything in the court hall exactly as usual except for one missing person in the position above him, this scene gave many in this hall a sense of reassurance, like being fed a calming pill. Their original anxiety and terror immediately disappeared—

Some among them, more audacious, even speculated in their relief that even if things truly collapsed as speculated, if the Regent Prince stepped up to take power, it would actually have no impact on the court situation.

Many present had heard in earlier years that Emperor Wu, while alive, had also considered passing the throne to Lord Anle. It was only because Crown Prince Emperor Ming was also a deeply beloved heir apparent, with brotherly harmony and no faults, that Emperor Wu abandoned the idea.

Speaking with great irreverence, even if this was a baseless rumor, today, compared to the youth sitting in that position, this might be more beneficial for Great Wei…

The court ministers had originally come with doubts and unease, spontaneously seeking audience. But now, after paying respects to the seated figure and hearing him ask what they had gathered at night to report, they looked at each other, with no one stepping forward to speak, finally all lowering their heads.

Shu Shenhui then said: “This Prince knows why you ministers have gathered. This Prince also learned of His Majesty’s illness during the return journey and was deeply concerned, which is why I hurried back to the capital today. His Majesty’s illness cannot be cured immediately. The imperial physicians say it may spread to those nearby, which is why court sessions have been suspended for consecutive days while he recovers.”

He continued: “You ministers’ concern for His Majesty’s condition is understood by this Prince. However—”

His gaze swept over the silent group before him without pause, but his tone suddenly became heavy: “How is it that I also hear that your gathering here tonight is not solely out of care for His Majesty’s health, but for other reasons?”

Still, no one spoke, but hearts tightened. In the vast hall, besides his voice, there was no other sound.

“Though His Majesty cannot govern due to illness, in the court, there are still Prince Xian and the Secretariat Director whom this Prince entrusted before leaving the capital. These two guard His Majesty and maintain the court, working diligently. I reviewed their work today—not a single oversight!”

“During this time, have they delayed your grand strategies for the realm, or reduced your coal, salary, and provisions? To turn a blind eye, believe rumors spread by those with unknown malicious intentions, forcibly gather outside the palace at night, disturbing His Majesty—are you all trying to be those who fear the world isn’t chaotic enough?”

His stern expression and pointed accusations were extremely rare. After speaking, he stood up, his voice and manner equally severe: “If this Prince hadn’t appeared tonight, would you ministers, relying on the principle that the law cannot punish the masses, have forced your way to stand outside the palace, disrupting court order?”

Everyone felt not only regret but extreme alarm at his questioning. When his words ended, the hall was filled with kneeling figures, all begging forgiveness, saying they harbored absolutely no harmful intentions. Tonight’s gathering was not only from concern for His Majesty’s condition but also eagerness to learn the results of the Regent Prince’s southern tour.

Shu Shenhui initially maintained a stern expression. After everyone finished their statements, his countenance gradually softened: “This Prince’s southern tour was quite successful. The details will be distributed in documents when the accompanying main force returns to the capital, and you can all read them then. If there’s nothing else tonight, let’s disperse. It’s getting late, and there’s court tomorrow.”

The ministers were silent as cicadas, responding in unison, bowing again before withdrawing from Xuanzheng Hall. On the way out of the palace, no one whispered to each other anymore. Each kept silent until leaving the palace gates, then went their separate ways home.

Under the night sky, the imperial palace returned to its usual tranquility.

Shu Shenhui stood alone in the empty great hall for a long time before going to his nephew’s study.

This was where his nephew usually reviewed memorials after retiring from court. Palace attendants lit lamps as he slowly entered, his gaze falling on the desks, chairs, tables, couches, and stacks of books and writing materials. Before his eyes seemed to appear the scene from his first year of reign, when he suddenly looked up from his desk to complain to him about bothersome government affairs. His mood was extremely heavy.

It was his fault—inadequate guidance.

If, when replying to the letter, he had been less preachy and condescending, more understanding of his worries and anxieties, directly telling him that he would never allow something like establishing the Lan family daughter as empress to happen, then perhaps he wouldn’t have been so desperate as to abandon everything and run away.

Shu Shenhui suppressed his emotions and began examining the study with renewed spirit, hoping to find some traces that might indicate his destination. There was nothing. His nephew had left in anger that day without leaving a single word.

In this vast world, where could he go alone without seeking him out?

While pondering, he suddenly thought of someone, his heart trembling slightly.

Could he be so audacious as to go to Yanmen to find her alone?

After she entered the capital, his nephew’s attitude toward her was completely different from the beginning.

He tried desperately to suppress this nearly absurd idea that emerged from his heart, closed his eyes, and recalled the scene of his nephew seeing them off from the capital that day. He remembered she had already boarded the carriage when his nephew suddenly stepped forward to arrange martial arts sparring with her upon their return. He had been standing nearby then, seeing his nephew’s reluctance clearly.

Shu Shenhui’s heart pounded as his originally cold blood seemed violently stirred by something, even the roots of his hair seeming to emit heat.

He opened his eyes and walked to the young Emperor’s desk. There still lay a stack of memorials delivered on the day he fled. He quickly flipped through them. Upon opening the topmost one, his gaze froze.

It was a battle report from Yanmen! It stated that General Changning had successfully penetrated deep into Youzhou territory from the northern front and had smoothly reached Maple Leaf City.

“Someone—”

Shu Shenhui spun around and called out loudly.

The next day, Liu Xiang returned with news. Fast horses had inquired at roadside stations along the route from Chang’an to Yanmen. Several stations within Jingzhao territory reported no abnormalities. But after leaving Jingzhao and entering Beidi Commandery, at a station called Wu Po, over ten days ago at midnight, a youth had burst in carrying an imperial edict commanding full support from roadside stations along the route, claiming to be executing court business and urgently needing fast horses. Though the station official found the visitor young, his bearing was commanding, and the seal completely matched—impossible to forge—so assuming he was on secret court business, he dared not ask questions and immediately prepared fast horses and provisions as requested, sending him on his way.

Liu Xiang concluded that, based on the physical description, the northbound youth was undoubtedly the young Emperor.

Shu Shenhui steadied himself and immediately left the palace for Prince Xian’s residence.

He returned in the latter half of the night, made brief preparations without any delay, and at the fourth watch of dawn led a group of men on horseback out of the city, then rode swiftly northward under the moonlight.