The final note still lingered on his lips when the coachman’s hand had already reached Noble Consort Bao’s neck and gently twisted.
A crack.
The sound was faint, yet startling enough to make everyone’s eyebrows twitch.
At the same time, the coachman suddenly burst into a loud shout.
“Today I avenge our late Emperor Huan of Da Qian!”
With this cry, he threw Noble Consort Bao to the ground. The woman rolled softly in the snow, her neck bent at an unnatural angle.
Under everyone’s shocked gazes, the coachman’s figure exploded upward, flashing like an eagle in mid-air before disappearing over the wall.
For some reason, perhaps due to excessive shock, no orders were given and no one moved. Even Mu Si, who usually reacted quickly, stood there motionless.
Only after the figure vanished in the air did he shout: “Pursue!”
Figures flashed as people gave chase, but whether they could catch up was another matter entirely.
In the carriage, Chazi lowered the curtain, a hint of a smile in her eyes, though her expression was somewhat complex.
Murong Yi sat quietly throughout, seemingly oblivious to what had happened outside.
After a long moment he said: “…Was this her intention?”
Chazi said: “When I went as envoy to Da Qian last year, she had me bring back my master. To avoid your detection, master has been hiding in my residence this whole year, though all this year’s medicine has been newly prepared by master. As for what she instructed master to do, I didn’t know before, but now I understand.”
Her feelings were complex as she turned to look at the woman who had once been arrogantly domineering, now lying scattered in the muddy snow, thinking: Emperor of Da Qian, what kind of person are you really?
Do you hate to the bone, or love deeply?
Murong Yi sat silently beside her in the dark carriage, a faint light flickering in his eyes. Suddenly he held out his hand to her: “Do you have any tobacco?”
Chazi: “…”
After a long moment she said: “No!”
Murong Yi sighed regretfully: “At a time like this, I suddenly want to smoke a pipe like Di Yiwei.”
Only thus could he express his current mood.
Only thus could he suppress his current emotional turmoil.
Only thus could he control this moment’s overwhelming, irresistible longing for her.
…
The ministers still remaining in the room looked at the two corpses outside, everyone’s face ashen, teeth chattering.
Having living people suddenly die violently before their eyes brought an indescribable impact, especially given these two people’s identities—one was His Majesty’s brother, the other his own mother.
All present were high officials who naturally wouldn’t be deceived by appearances. Setting aside whether that assassin was actually sent by Da Qian, at the very least they had seen clearly Mu Si’s earlier killing intent and his deliberate inaction after the incident.
His Majesty truly showed no mercy even toward his last, only remaining relative.
What more for them!
Outside, Mu Si stood with hand on sword, slowly saying: “His Majesty orders: those who seek their own death need not be discussed. What was said earlier still stands.”
First to surrender would be spared death; last to emerge would have nine generations executed.
Movement stirred in the room. The Court of Judicial Review and Palace Guard Commander rushed out together, kneeling under the carriage weeping and pleading for forgiveness.
Then the Palace Attendant Commander, Grand Minister of Education, and several others also emerged. Mu Si said: “His Majesty asks: who was the chief rebel in this matter?”
The Palace Attendant Commander looked toward Noble Consort Bao’s corpse on the ground.
The Grand Minister of Education sighed deeply: “It was this subject who coordinated everything. This subject is willing to bear responsibility, but begs His Majesty not to implicate my family.”
Murong Yi paid no attention. Mu Si gestured for them to be taken away.
Only the Imperial Censor and Minister of Public Works remained in the room. The two exchanged glances. The Imperial Censor lifted the curtain but didn’t exit, while the Minister of Public Works drew his personal sword and placed it at his own neck.
Mu Si sneered: “What, threatening His Majesty with your own life?”
Simply inconceivably absurd.
The Minister of Public Works shook his head, saying mournfully: “Your Majesty, this subject knows death is inevitable. This subject has no family, and relations with relatives are distant. If you truly wish to execute nine generations, this subject is powerless to prevent it. Today this subject only wishes to use this life to remonstrate with Your Majesty—harsh governance is fiercer than tigers, whether toward the people or toward ministers!”
The Imperial Censor stood at the doorway, also saying solemnly: “Your Majesty, we subjects didn’t want your life. At least this subject and the Minister of Public Works did not. We simply feel that continuing this way is disadvantageous to the court and to Da Feng. We subjects don’t understand—since you value people’s livelihood and care for the common people, why won’t you extend such compassion to your subjects? Why must you treat us so harshly? Are subjects not also your people? Must you force all ministers to live in constant anxiety, uncertain of tomorrow, with no choice but to rebel against you?”
Both men gazed steadily at Murong Yi, their eyes holding regret, disappointment, and mostly incomprehension.
Clearly a wise ruler of his generation, an excellent choice in intelligence and ability, yet his behavior was extremely contradictory, insisting on pushing himself toward tyranny.
In the carriage, Murong Yi remained unmoved, even seeming to want some sunflower seeds again.
The two exchanged glances, both seeing disappointment in each other’s eyes. They sighed together: “Your Majesty, take care.”
The Minister of Public Works tensed his arm. The Imperial Censor lowered the curtain.
But just then, with a whoosh, the curtain exploded in the Imperial Censor’s hands, pierced with countless tiny holes. Cotton batting flew from the holes, blinding the Imperial Censor and stopping his attempt to crash into the wall.
Countless sunflower seeds shot through the holes like a sudden rainstorm, instantly striking the Minister of Public Works who intended to cut his throat. The impact caused him pain throughout his body, numb arms, and his dagger clattered to the ground.
With a sharp crack, a black-clothed crossbow-bearing figure dropped from the skylight, restraining both men.
Only then did Murong Yi’s voice drift out faintly: “You civil officials love playing these death remonstrance tricks, gaining eternal fame for yourselves while placing the ruler in a position of condemnation. Such malicious intentions—I refuse to fulfill your wishes.”
Minister of Public Works: “…”
After a long moment he sighed: “If so, whether Your Majesty wishes to subject me to death by a thousand cuts, that is your thunderous imperial grace. This subject will accept it.”
Murong Yi’s lips curved slightly: “These two—imprison them on the nineteenth level, never to be pardoned!”
After Murong Yi ascended the throne, he renamed many institutions. For example, the Embroidered Uniform Guard was abolished and the new intelligence organization was called Guatian Division. The dungeon where the Embroidered Uniform Guard had previously held important criminal ministers was renamed the nineteenth level.
This bizarre style and arbitrary naming method actually had a better deterrent effect on the court—everyone lived under suspicion, and upon conviction would enter the nineteenth level of hell.
Hearing “nineteenth level,” the ministers in the courtyard all trembled, grateful they had emerged quickly.
The Court of Judicial Review, who had rushed out first, crawled forward a step, saying tearfully with gratitude: “Thank you for Your Majesty’s great kindness…”
Kneeling on the ground, he habitually used the corner of his eye to secretly observe the Emperor’s expression, trying to gauge his mood and attitude to say more appropriate words.
But he glimpsed Murong Yi staring at him, a smile at the corner of his lips—cold, stunning, beautiful yet… cruel.
When their gazes met, the Court of Judicial Review’s heart suddenly chilled, feeling a creeping coldness climb densely up his spine.
Overwhelming terror.
Yet he didn’t know why he should be terrified—His Majesty had promised to spare his life…
This thought had barely flashed through his mind when he felt a sudden coolness at the back of his head.
Without even feeling pain, he saw heaven and earth suddenly flip upside down. The carriage tumbled several times before his eyes. The person in the carriage curiously tilted his head looking at him, still smiling, still wearing that beautiful yet somewhat innocently cruel smile.
Then a flash of red silk ribbon-like brilliance swept across his vision.
With a “snap,” heaven and earth closed shut.
…
The Court of Judicial Review, Grand Minister of Education, and others knelt in the snow, watching the head that flew up and crashed before them. Their bodies had already become as cold as the ice and snow beneath their knees.
With a “clang,” Mu Si expressionlessly wiped his blood-stained blade on the snow and sheathed it.
The ministers began shaking like chaff. The Grand Minister of Education at their head widened his eyes, crying hoarsely: “Your Majesty, you clearly… you clearly…”
“I clearly what?” Murong Yi looked at him with interest. “I clearly said nothing.”
The ministers all looked toward Mu Si.
It was Mu Si who had spoken. Mu Si was always your spokesman, and you didn’t object.
But no matter how they gestured, Murong Yi looked at them with an innocent expression.
Mu Si, who always took the blame, stood steady.
Murong Yi chuckled: “This type who rushes to the front in rebellion, betrays fastest, and shamelessly begs for life—does such trash deserve to remain in my realm?”
While everyone was still stunned, the Grand Minister of Education had already vaguely grasped his meaning and sighed inwardly.
So that was it.
But who in this world could truly fathom this Majesty’s thoughts?
Kneeling in the snow, he pondered everyone’s fate based on their order of emergence and reactions, when he suddenly felt something was wrong.
Where was Wu Rui?
This former Vice Minister of Personnel who harbored the deepest hatred toward the Emperor and had participated most deeply in the entire coup attempt, providing the greatest assistance—where had he suddenly gone?
Then the Grand Minister of Education saw Wu Rui emerge from the inner room, kneel before the carriage, and hand Murong Yi a list.
The Grand Minister of Education suddenly understood.
Bone-deep coldness filled his heart. His fear of the Emperor before him had now reached its peak.
He couldn’t help trembling all over, prostrating in the snow without daring to raise his head.
The Palace Guard Commander and others had just realized what happened and instinctively shouted: “Wu Rui, you traitor!”
Wu Rui didn’t even glance at him, snorting: “What traitor? I’ve always been His Majesty’s man.”
The Palace Guard Commander said in shock: “Then your embezzlement charges were also false?”
“Those weren’t false.” Wu Rui bowed toward Murong Yi. “This subject did embezzle, but His Majesty gave this subject an opportunity.”
“Let me personally explain to you fools,” Murong Yi said. “When the Ministry of Justice reported Wu Rui’s case, I guided them. Afterward, I felt this person was talented, so before his execution, I sent someone to ask his intentions.”
Wu Rui smiled, remembering that night when he was in despair. Someone had brought a tray with a cup of poisoned wine, asking him: “I’ll give you a chance to live, but from now on you can never appear before people again. You’ll hide in darkness for life, doing the dirtiest, most vicious things, cursed by thousands, and your future end might not be good either. You’ll just live wretchedly for a long time. If you’re willing, drink this wine. If not, see you at tomorrow’s execution ground.”
He had chosen that wine.
A bad life was better than a good death.
Wasn’t it just being His Majesty’s blade, doing things inconvenient for the ruler?
Wasn’t it just that his future end might be the same as those dismembered Embroidered Uniform Guards?
If he didn’t choose, he’d be dismembered tomorrow.
This was a profitable deal.
Murong Yi looked at him, a faint smile at his lips.
When he heard about Wu Rui that day, he had determined that someone skilled at hiding and disguising was exactly what he needed as leader of Guatian Division.
Such dirty work couldn’t be done by Zhao San or Mu Si.
Devils wanting life must exchange it for soul and reputation.
He didn’t mind how bad people were—after all, he wasn’t a good person either.
He had this man imprisoned, convicted, made him face death directly, then forced him to surrender to himself.
This layer of grievance could also deceive everyone, making those ministers with various intentions trust completely and lay bare all their ridiculous plans and sneaky actions before him.
These fools didn’t even think—Wu Rui, a guilty person whose property was confiscated and servants scattered, where would he get so many houses? Such great influence to accomplish things they couldn’t do, like bringing confined princes out?
With this, they thought they could rebel against him.
Murong Yi and Wu Rui’s smiles appeared demonic to the ministers.
The Grand Minister of Education tremblingly pressed his head to the snow.
The person before them had thoughts deep as an abyss and methods like a demon. Yet they had foolishly tried to overthrow him—truly living as a joke.
He heard the person in the carriage mutter to himself: “Thus, another batch can be killed…”
That voice was filled with ease and pleasure.
The Grand Minister of Education didn’t understand, only feeling overwhelming sorrow and coldness wash over him.
The Emperor was coughing. Thick curtains dropped down, and the carriage rumbled away.
Ahead lay endless roads.
Behind lay chaotic wind and snow.
…