Dan Zhen never concerned herself with affairs in the capital. She stayed in this place partly to avoid the court’s pursuit and partly to wait for news from Xuan Li. In her view, everything was now set in stone and nothing could go wrong. Therefore, she wasn’t worried. Even Yuan Chuan’s strange behavior that day hadn’t caught Dan Zhen’s attention. She never expected that now, Xuan Li would suddenly appear before her.

Dan Zhen looked up at this man. To be fair, Xuan Li wasn’t unattractive, and given his methods, he wasn’t incompetent either. It’s just that Dan Zhen had already set her heart on another person, and Xuan Li was far inferior to that man. When Dan Zhen looked at Xuan Li again, she felt no significant emotional stirring. However, she still knew that Xuan Li was the one making deals with their Southern Frontier, so she stood up and smiled: “Eighth Prince.”

Xuan Li also wore a smile. Dan Zhen had seen Xuan Li several times and knew this was his habitual expression. To wear a mask so deeply ingrained in his bones, making everyone who saw him feel like a spring breeze – Xuan Li had some ability. But today, though his face still bore that usual gentle smile, there seemed to be something extra in it that made people feel indescribably strange.

Dan Zhen’s steps forward suddenly paused as she said: “What brings Your Highness here?”

She sensitively detected something amiss but couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong. Her communications with Xuan Li were all conducted through Yuan Chuan, who was a clever man and the sharpest blade she wielded.

Xuan Li smiled slightly and said: “Saintess, I’ve come only to ask you about one matter.”

Dan Zhen asked: “What matter?”

“The imperial edict found on the Princess Consort of Prince Jinying – the Saintess burned it, correct?” Xuan Li’s smile, seen up close, appeared somewhat false, inexplicably making Dan Zhen feel disgusted. As if it contained something else within, she looked at Xuan Li and nodded: “That’s correct.”

“Oh? Then may I ask why the Saintess did such a thing?” Xuan Li inquired.

Dan Zhen was startled and carefully examined Xuan Li’s expression before saying: “Since that edict was a succession decree for your brother, keeping it would only be a disaster. Eventually, you would destroy it anyway. Rather than have complications arise over time, it was better for me to handle it. Since we’re on the same side, I wasn’t afraid to do such things.”

She thought her words were quite appropriate. For the Saintess of the Southern Frontier to personally handle matters for others was already a tremendous honor. If not for the current alliance between them, she wouldn’t have spoken such words. Who would have thought that after hearing this, Xuan Li would smile strangely and say: “Help me?”

Dan Zhen hadn’t expected this reaction from Xuan Li. Somewhat displeased, she said: “What does Your Highness mean by this?”

Xuan Li’s tone was unreadable: “What you burned wasn’t the Thirteenth Prince’s succession decree. The name written on it was mine.”

“Yours?” Dan Zhen cried out in shock. In that instant, she understood why Xuan Li had this attitude. But ordinary people would probably first think of how to express their regret – Dan Zhen, however, thought about how to shift blame. She even felt a surge of anger.

She said: “Is Your Highness here to demand an explanation? Even though the Southern Frontier was destroyed by the Great Jin Dynasty decades ago, the Southern Frontier still granted this former royal Saintess extremely high status and honor. No one questioned or opposed her words, and because of the nation’s destruction, they treated Dan Zhen even better. In her bones, Dan Zhen looked down on anyone of lower status than herself. In her eyes, Xuan Li was merely a prince who hadn’t yet ascended the throne. How dare he speak to her with such an uncomfortable, accusatory tone – it was simply disrespectful. She immediately assumed a superior attitude: “When Your Highness had us intercept that edict, you never mentioned that the name on it was yours. What, now you’re blaming me? Did I burn your succession decree? Besides, you never looked at that edict – how do you know your name was written on it? Haven’t you fallen into someone else’s trap?”

“Fallen into someone else’s trap?” Xuan Li slowly repeated.

“Yes,” Dan Zhen seemed suddenly interested and continued talking: “Perhaps when you had us intercept that edict, you had already fallen into someone’s trap. Your Highness keeps demanding explanations – why don’t you question yourself? This matter is ultimately your own fault. You were stupid, made mistakes, fell into someone’s trap, and burned your own edict, cutting off your own legitimate path to the throne. I merely acted according to your instructions – what does this have to do with me? The one truly to blame is yourself!”

Dan Zhen, eager to extricate herself from the entire affair, blamed all the mistakes on Xuan Li. These words might have been acceptable under normal circumstances, but today her words struck precisely at Xuan Li’s sore spots. This matter had indeed begun with Xuan Li falling into someone’s trap – his arrogant misjudgment had led him to mistake the succession decree bearing his own name for Xuan Pei’s. But Xuan Li was extremely proud and couldn’t tolerate any flaws in himself, much less others questioning his abilities. Dan Zhen’s words were slapping his face with every sentence – how could he bear it? Moreover, this matter originally had room for remedy – he could have simply produced his own edict. Who knew Dan Zhen would be such a troublemaker, burning away his last chance with a single fire? Not only that, she showed no remorse and acted aggressively.

A surge of violent rage suddenly rose in Xuan Li’s heart.

He looked at Dan Zhen and slowly said: “You’re quite right.”

Dan Zhen had only let her usual temper flare momentarily. She hadn’t expected Xuan Li to admit his faults so quickly. Feeling somewhat strange, but knowing Xuan Li was always honey-tongued and duplicitous, excelling at maintaining a harmonious facade with everyone, she didn’t think much of it and said: “Actually, it’s not your fault either. You just shouldn’t have blamed everything on me…”

Before she could finish speaking, she suddenly felt a chill in her chest. An unfamiliar pain spread from her chest, drilling into her bones. She stared blankly down at her chest, where a short blade was embedded, its handle gripped in Xuan Li’s hand. Xuan Li looked at her with a slight smile, the violence in his eyes intensifying as he deliberately twisted the blade slowly in a full circle. The sound of flesh rotating was almost audible.

“Since I shouldn’t blame you, I should thank you. How about I send you on your way?” Xuan Li’s voice was light yet carried a bone-chilling coldness. Dan Zhen stared at her wound in disbelief. She wanted to cry for help, to call for Yuan Chuan, for Qi Man, for the servants outside, but she couldn’t utter a single word. Her whole body was strangely cold. Her mouth opened and closed, but she had no strength.

The blade’s tip was poisoned. Xuan Li calmly withdrew the short knife from Dan Zhen’s chest. In that instant, blood spurted out. Xuan Li took out a handkerchief from his robes, wiped the blade clean, returned it to its sheath, and looked down at the woman lying on the ground with eyes that would never close. He admired the corpse on the ground as if appreciating a painting, then slowly smiled: “I should have killed you from the beginning, fool.”

He turned and walked out of the room.

Dan Zhen’s corpse lay sprawled in the room, blood gradually pooling from her chest and staining the floor beneath her red. Even in death, Dan Zhen never imagined that Xuan Li would actually harm her. Perhaps she never realized how grave her mistake truly was, nor that Xuan Li was far more ruthless than she had imagined. But what she least realized was that she wasn’t as important as she thought. Her confidence came from believing Xuan Li needed to ally with her and borrow Southern Frontier’s power. But she forgot that she wasn’t the only one who could make decisions for the Southern Frontier. She was the Southern Frontier’s Saintess, but the Southern Frontier also had a princess. Qi Man was cleverer than her, more patient, and better understood how to deal with Xuan Li. When someone isn’t the only choice and there’s even a better replacement available, eliminating her becomes a simple matter.

Even in death, Dan Zhen never imagined her life would end so quickly. She never saw Jiang Ruan suffer a fate worse than death, never saw Xiao Shao forced to submit to her. She died at Xuan Li’s hands over an imperial edict – how unwilling she must have felt. Perhaps in her final moment, she suddenly understood why Jiang Ruan had said those words to her – those misleading words that made her believe the edict definitely bore Xuan Pei’s name. It was all to use her hand to burn that edict, then exploit her personality to completely tear relations with Xuan Li. She might have even predicted Xuan Li’s reaction, knowing he was someone who couldn’t tolerate being trampled upon – sensitive and fragile, he would certainly take her life.

When Dan Zhen was in the Southern Frontier, she had heard that Jiang Ruan was someone skilled at reading people’s hearts. Dan Zhen had dismissed this, but this dismissal ultimately cost her life. From the beginning, Jiang Ruan had laid a chain of traps. She wanted Xuan Li’s imperial ambitions and Dan Zhen’s life. She had done nothing except lightly manipulate Dan Zhen’s emotions, creating such an irreversible situation. She was indeed a woman skilled at exploiting human weaknesses – a terrifying woman.

But Dan Zhen’s final insights could only vanish with her life on Great Jin Dynasty soil. Conquering the sky where eagles soar and the land where wolves roam had become impossible.

The door was pushed open, and Yuan Chuan’s voice rang out: “Saintess…” His words suddenly stopped as his gaze fell on the corpse lying on the ground.

Yuan Chuan froze, seeming too stunned to approach. Only after a moment did he finally understand, quickly walking over to crouch down and pull Dan Zhen into his arms. His embrace held only a cold corpse, no longer containing any life. Yuan Chuan was immediately stunned.

“How could this… how could this…” Yuan Chuan murmured, calling softly: “Saintess, Saintess!”

Only deathly silence answered him. Dan Zhen’s blood stained his clothing, the bloodstains somewhat dark and purple. He suddenly held Dan Zhen’s head in his arms, beginning to sob quietly in anguish.

If anyone from the Southern Frontier had passed by at this moment, they would have been astonished by Yuan Chuan’s expression. This man who always remained mysterious and never showed his true face, who had always been extremely ruthless in his actions – almost everyone working under him felt genuine fear toward him because this man was unpredictable in his moods. He seemed to simply enjoy killing and bloodshed. That such a devil-like man would weep uncontrollably over another’s death, appearing extremely sorrowful, was shocking.

He whispered: “Didn’t you say I was your most loyal servant, the best blade you wielded? I was to help you achieve your wishes – how can you die now…”

Yuan Chuan’s gaze held some madness. He frantically pressed his lips chaotically against the face of the person in his arms, his expression already showing signs of insanity. He had always been clear about his position – before Dan Zhen, he was a biting dog. He knew who was in Dan Zhen’s heart. So what if she treated him like a dog? As long as Dan Zhen wanted him to bite someone, he would bite them. Only one person in this world could earn his complete loyalty. Even if this woman held not an ounce of space for him in her heart, he was content.

She was a saintess sent from heaven to save sinners, while he was a sinner humble as dust. The Saintess was also human, with her own emotions and desires that couldn’t be resolved. He was willing to be the blade in the Saintess’s hand. If blood was filthy, then let his hands be filthy. He would eliminate all obstacles on her path so she could remain that clean, pure Saintess.

But now, the person in his arms was just a corpse – nothing remained. His faith and the person he would follow for life were both gone. Yuan Chuan slowly laid down the person in his arms and reached up to remove the mask that never left his face. Beneath the mask, half his face was covered in crisscrossing scars, with traces of old wounds still visible. On the half of his face the mask had covered, a branded character “囚” (prisoner) made with a branding iron could be seen.

That was the great crime he had once committed. He had been whipped and had the character “囚” branded on his face with a red-hot iron. Just as they were about to brand the other side, he heard an ethereal voice: “Stop.”

The painful torture ceased abruptly. He looked up to see a red dress, those magnificent eyes. That woman was like a fairy from heaven, graceful in posture, who simply said: “He’s not beyond redemption. Spare him.”

His crime hadn’t been serious – he had merely offended someone important. This woman’s words rescued him. Later, Yuan Chuan couldn’t forget this woman. Finally finding an opportunity to see her again, he expressed his willingness to devote his life to following her.

Yuan Chuan was clever, ruthless, and perceptive – Dan Zhen liked using him very much. These years, he and Dan Zhen had depended on each other. He saw Dan Zhen as his redemption. This world was too dirty and dark – only this woman, beautiful beyond the mortal realm, could make this world seem a little less ugly. He had personally witnessed Dan Zhen’s loneliness and solitude, his soul becoming twisted in the process. Whether he became an evil spirit or not, he had never regretted it.

Yuan Chuan touched the uneven skin of half his face, his expression gradually becoming calm. He said softly, slowly: “You gave me my name, gave me my life. Saintess, I will make them accompany you.” He slowly bent down and performed a grand Southern Frontier ritual before Dan Zhen’s corpse. Then he slowly rose, never looking at the corpse on the ground again, and walked out the door.

…

At the Eighth Prince’s residence, unlike usual days, besides advisors, there were also many important court ministers – all people following Xuan Li’s faction. Now they were all seated here without exception. The leading official said: “Your Highness, the Thirteenth Prince’s coronation ceremony is imminent. If…”

“Since the edict has been proclaimed to the world,” Xuan Li said coldly, “we can still succeed without an edict.” Thinking of that burned edict, Xuan Li’s heart still felt like it was about to split open.

“Your Highness means… rebellion?” another minister asked tentatively.

“What do you mean rebellion?” Xuan Li countered. His face no longer bore its former gentle, scholarly expression, instead showing some sinister madness as he said grimly: “This empire was mine to begin with. Winners become kings, losers become bandits – whoever wins gets it. Don’t speak of rebellion anymore. This time, call it purging the palace of treacherous factions!”

The ministers all remained silent. The common people weren’t fools – the succession decree had already been issued. Talking about purging treacherous factions was just self-deception. Everyone knew these were just words to deceive. However, action was better than inaction. In terms of military strength, Xuan Li’s forces weren’t necessarily inferior to Xuan Pei’s, especially with the Southern Frontier people.

A military official said: “Has Your Highness made arrangements with the Southern Frontier? It’s just that the Southern Frontier people are outsiders after all – I fear they’ll cause trouble later. Currently, it’s only due to circumstances that we’re temporarily cooperating. In the future, Your Highness should beware of complications and should…” The official hesitated without continuing. Allying with foreign countries to deal with one’s own land was fundamentally unsettling. Moreover, this Southern Frontier had once been personally destroyed by the Great Jin Dynasty. To say the Southern Frontier people had no other intentions was hard to believe. How could those harboring ulterior motives peacefully coexist in the future? If not for currently needing to counter Xuan Pei’s faction, why would they need to do these things with the Southern Frontier?

“Just an expedient measure,” Xuan Li said indifferently. “After success, we’ll naturally deal with the Southern Frontier. You needn’t worry.” Xuan Li had long planned to cross the river and burn the bridge – use them and discard them. The Southern Frontier was merely a tool to him. But thinking of what Dan Zhen had done, Xuan Li couldn’t help feeling angry again. That woman’s meddling had unnecessarily added many complications. Now only Qi Man remained from the Southern Frontier. Qi Man seemed much easier to control and far cleverer – hopefully more sensible than Dan Zhen.

Hearing Xuan Li speak this way, the ministers first breathed a sigh of relief, then someone asked: “Where should Your Highness begin this campaign?”

“According to previous plans,” Xuan Li said, “but now instead of from palace outward, we go from outside the palace inward, forming an encirclement. The Southern Frontier people will respond at the capital’s edges. First, take the Imperial Guards outside the palace, create a siege, surround the palace, then implement scorched earth tactics and burn the imperial palace.”

He spoke as if it were nothing, but those around him couldn’t help breaking into cold sweats. Scorched earth tactics, burning the imperial palace – that meant sparing no one, including Empress Dowager Yide in the palace. The ministers didn’t know whether to feel fortunate or unfortunate. Fortunate that they had followed Xuan Li, otherwise they might be the ones burned to ashes. Unfortunate that this master appeared gentle and scholarly on the surface but was so ruthless inside – working under such a person might not lead to good ends in the future. For a moment, emotions were mixed, expressions complex.

“When will this happen?” someone asked.

“The coronation ceremony,” Xuan Li answered.

The ministers fell silent. Only to avoid detection, they soon dispersed and hurriedly departed. After everyone left, Xuan Li sat alone in the hall, supporting his forehead with one hand, his expression carrying an indescribable desolation.

In the end, he had still taken the worst possible step. He had originally thought everything could be properly arranged, that the throne would come legitimately – he would just need to use methods to prevent Xuan Pei from legitimately taking that position. Who knew Xuan Pei would play such a hand? Now he was the one who had failed and had no choice but to force the issue under the name of rebellion.

Rebellion – Xuan Li smiled. What he valued most in life was reputation. Once the word “rebellion” came out, regardless of whether he ultimately won or lost in future struggles, he would completely become what he most despised – a treacherous subject. Even if he eventually ascended to the throne, this reputation could never be washed away. Common people might not dare speak out loud due to fear, but who could know what they thought in their hearts? He couldn’t slaughter all the tens of thousands of citizens in the capital to silence tongues. So from the moment he made this decision, this shame would be deeply branded on Xuan Li, never to be removed for life.

This matter was fundamentally all Jiang Ruan’s fault. After returning, Xuan Li had gradually figured it out – even his killing Dan Zhen in anger was probably within Jiang Ruan’s calculations. But he didn’t regret it. Dan Zhen, that woman, would have brought him trouble as long as she lived – better to die early and be done with it. Xuan Li hated being schemed against most in life, but now facing the situation, discovering he was always being schemed against by Jiang Ruan, he didn’t even have the interest to demand explanations anymore.

He was just a bit tired.

If Jiang Ruan were his person, wouldn’t he avoid such headaches now and not have to take this lowest path? With Jiang Ruan, it would be like adding wings to a tiger – the road to conquering this vast empire would probably be much smoother. Xuan Li thought, but hadn’t he shown goodwill to Jiang Ruan before? From their first meeting, he had maintained a gentle, refined demeanor. Though this appearance might not make all women flock to him, it surely wasn’t disagreeable.

But from the very beginning, Jiang Ruan had avoided him like a snake or scorpion, even seeming somewhat disgusted. Xuan Li didn’t know why Jiang Ruan always opposed him, sabotaged his plans, and when he proposed marrying her, she rejected him outright without hesitation. Xuan Li wondered if it was his imagination, but sometimes Jiang Ruan would even inadvertently show hatred toward him. Xuan Li didn’t know how he had offended her – he thought and thought but couldn’t find a reason.

Later, Jiang Ruan chose Xiao Shao. Xiao Shao won the beauty, while Xuan Li appeared unchanged on the surface but was inwardly furious. Jiang Ruan was someone he couldn’t obtain, yet she was ultimately obtained by another – and that person was Xiao Shao, the person he hated and envied most in this lifetime.

Yes, he was jealous. He didn’t understand why the Emperor trusted Xiao Shao so much when he was clearly a treacherous subject. He didn’t understand why among the brothers on Jia Nan Mountain, Master Ba Qi favored Xiao Shao most. He didn’t understand why Xiao Shao could easily accomplish what others needed great effort to achieve – under his brilliance, others’ efforts were obliterated.

Xuan Li had always been unwilling to fall behind others since childhood. He craved constant attention, wanting to be the best. But Xiao Shao’s appearance disrupted his order. Even Bai Jiu was the same.

Initially, everyone thought Bai Jiu liked him, but in truth, he had liked Bai Jiu. Born in the imperial palace and accustomed to various struggles, who wouldn’t love such a naturally innocent, unpolished, romantic young girl like Bai Jiu? That was his first time liking someone. Full of affection and not yet having spoken, he saw Bai Jiu worriedly tell him: “Eighth Senior Brother, I like Third Senior Brother. Why does he always ignore me?”

Bai Jiu liked Xiao Shao – she had never liked Xuan Li.

Xuan Li didn’t understand why Bai Jiu still liked Xiao Shao when he was so cold to people. In that moment, he felt extreme anger and a sense of betrayal. He was jealous of Xiao Shao and disgusted by Bai Jiu’s betrayal. The young man’s affection turned into towering hatred in that instant. What did he do? He said: “To see if he truly cares about you, see if he’ll get jealous. Just say you like me and be more intimate with me – that way you can test his feelings.”

Bai Jiu didn’t suspect anything. In her eyes, Xuan Li was a gentle, caring elder brother. She thought this method was good, so at that time, all the brothers on Jia Nan Mountain knew Bai Jiu liked Xuan Li. The more intimate Bai Jiu acted, the more unbearable it became for Xuan Li. He felt it was all humiliation – all humiliation.

Then that day came.

When Bai Jiu was trapped, he had hesitated momentarily about whether to call for rescue. But in the end, remembering Bai Jiu telling him about her feelings for Xiao Shao, Xuan Li had sneered and turned away.

Bai Jiu never knew until death why Xuan Li did such things. Everyone on Jia Nan Mountain thought he was a heartless, fickle person. Only he knew that Bai Jiu had never liked him – Bai Jiu liked Xiao Shao, and he hated Xiao Shao most.

After all these years, he thought he had long forgotten those events. He had worn the mask so long that he could smile pleasantly even at Xiao Shao. But those jealous, dark emotions had never been forgotten for a single day. Xiao Shao was always luckier than him – whether Bai Jiu or Jiang Ruan, he always took away what Xuan Li valued.

Perhaps they were destined enemies from past lives, ultimately needing to settle accounts in this life. Xuan Li clenched his hands, and the teacup in his grasp shattered with a crack. Blood flowed from between his fingers, but he paid no attention. His expression was strangely peculiar, like a possessed wild beast, utterly mad.