From bowing my head to raising it again — only a brief instant, yet within my heart a thousand thoughts had already turned, as though a lifetime had passed in that span.

I had reached a moment of life and death with no way to retreat. I could only turn his scheme against him and stake everything — my life included — to gamble this hand against Song Huai’an!

I raised my head; before I had spoken, tears were already flowing. “From now on, I and these two children — whether we live or die, whether we flourish or suffer misfortune, all depends entirely on you.”

“Huai’an would not dare!” Song Huai’an startled, his gaze burning as he looked at me. He said he would not dare, yet his eyes could not conceal a surging exhilaration. “As long as Huai’an has a single breath left in him, he will never allow Your Highness to suffer even the slightest grievance!”

I looked at him through tears, my body swaying. I used the momentum to lean forward as if about to fall.

He lunged forward to catch me, and right there in front of the handmaids on either side, held me in his arms.

The warmth that transmitted to me from his body only made me feel colder still. Against my back it was as though a cold, clammy serpent pressed against me, one that might strike at any moment.

These arms had reached out to support me again and again over the years. The memory of the battle at Huizhou rose before me as if it had been just yesterday. Over these years of walking this road, I had doubted many people, been suspicious of many people — yet I had never once been on guard against him.

In the space of a single night, the most trusted friend had become the most dangerous enemy.

Through layer upon layer of clothing, I could still detect Song Huai’an’s heartbeat — rapid and disordered like this, and his arms were trembling slightly too.

“This is no time for grief. I implore Your Highness to hold yourself together by all means. While the news has not yet spread, make arrangements in advance to ensure all is secure.” He steadied me by the shoulders, his gaze earnest, even carrying a trace of sincerity.

I closed and opened my eyes, forced myself to calm down, and wiped away the tear stains. “You are right. The foundation His Highness toiled to build over half a lifetime must not be allowed to crumble now.”

His eyes were full of anguished sympathy — and it looked almost real.

I fixed my sorrowful gaze on him. “Song Huai’an, are you willing to swear an oath that — regardless of what position you may occupy — you will protect the heir and the commandery princess for your entire life, protect the Prince Yuzhang household, and never harm my kin?”

He released his hands and slowly stepped back; his face had flushed red from the force of his emotion.

I pressed my gaze upon him. “Song Huai’an, are you willing to swear this oath to me?”

He looked steadily at me; the veins at his temple pulsed; he stood rigid for a long moment — then decisively dropped to one knee, raised his hand toward heaven, and declared: “With heaven above as witness, Song Huai’an swears to pledge his loyalty to Her Highness the Princess Consort, to protect Your Highness, the young heir, and the little commandery princess for his entire life, and never to harm any of Your Highness’s kin. If this oath is ever broken, may heaven and earth bring destruction upon him!”

As his words struck the ground, all around fell silent. Moonlight filtered through the eaves and fell upon his face, light and shadow shifting, bright and dark in turn.

I bit my lip and gave him a sorrowful smile. “I hope you will remember the oath you have made today for all time.”

His gaze scorched like fire. For the first time he shed all restraint and the calm composure he had always maintained, looking at me with such open abandon — a man wholly unlike the person he had been before, no longer that shadow-like existence. He no longer needed to remain submerged behind Xiao Qi, forever eclipsed by Xiao Qi’s brilliance.

“I will entrust His Highness the Prince’s military tally to you.” I said slowly. “You will take command of the armies of all under heaven and transmit orders for the northern expedition generals to withdraw their troops and return to the capital… Before the great army reaches the capital, keep all deaths concealed — not a word can be allowed to leak, lest the court and the whole realm be shaken.”

Song Huai’an bowed his head. “I obey Your Highness’s command!”

I closed my eyes in exhaustion, yet heard him say, “Given the urgency of the current situation, should we immediately deploy the capital garrison troops into the city to make preparations, as a precaution?”

— How swift his thinking was. I was inwardly alarmed, yet kept my face even more impassive. “I will leave all to your discretion. I will enter the palace myself now to see His Majesty and request that His Majesty issue a decree appointing you Supreme Commander of All Forces Under Heaven — only then can you command the six armies in a legitimate capacity.”

He naturally understood that, with no leader in charge, the only recourse was to hold the Son of Heaven hostage to command the feudal lords. Zidan was still an important piece on the board.

“You have not slept all night. There is no urgency in entering the palace — you can rest for half a day first.” He suddenly spoke in a gentle tone.

My heart leapt at once; cold sweat nearly broke out. Could it be that he had already detected my intentions?

But when I looked up, I met those familiar, warmly reassuring eyes — full of concern and earnest attention, as if truly caring for me.

“Your complexion is so poor…” He stared at me and stepped forward, raising his hand as if to touch my cheek.

I immediately stepped back, and his hand remained suspended in midair.

“Please wait in the study.” I lowered my eyes and covered my face in weary exhaustion. “I am very tired. Allow me a moment to wash and compose myself.”

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but finally fell silent and turned to leave.

Stepping into the inner room, I immediately went weak and sank into the chair, without half a trace of strength remaining.

“Your Highness, are you truly going to give the military tally to Chancellor Song?” Nanny Xu’s eyes were full of alarm and disbelief — she was, after all, a person who had long experienced the world.

“Have you seen through it?” I gave a wretched smile.

Nanny Xu’s face went pale; her voice trembled. “No — this old servant does not understand.”

I smiled bitterly. “His Highness the Prince is still alive. It is only that Chancellor Song has turned traitor.”

Nanny Xu swayed, trembling all over, and could say no more.

The sound of the watch drum beat steadily into my ears — it was already the fifth watch.

I braced myself against the table edge and rose through gritted teeth. “There is no time to explain in detail now, Nanny Xu. I have two things to entrust to you; commit them to memory and carry them out immediately, exactly as I say. No matter what questions you have, ask them later. First: find someone trustworthy and have them take my seal at once to see Iron Guard Commander Wei Han. Tell him to muster his forces and wait for me at the Chancellor of the Right’s residence. Second: take the young heir and the commandery princess yourself to the Ci’an Temple, and bring my handwritten letter to the Abbess Guangci. For whatever follows, follow her arrangements. After that, unless I or His Highness the Prince comes in person, under no circumstances may you allow anyone to learn where you are hiding.”

Nanny Xu’s voice trembled with joy. “His Highness the Prince — His Highness the Prince… is truly safe?”

I nodded. My eyes grew sore and hot; it was as though a great boulder were pressed against my chest. Tears circled back several times, yet in the end did not fall. Just now, before Song Huai’an, I had deliberately appeared weak to lower his guard — and the tears had come at will, streaming down freely. Yet now there were no more tears at all. How long had it been since I last cried? Xiao Qi used to always tease me for crying — happy or angry, my eyes would brim at a flutter of the lids. Now my eyes had dried out; even my heart had gradually hardened. Tears had become a luxury too precious to obtain.

“But what about you, A’Wu? Will you not come with us?” Nanny Xu gripped my hand anxiously.

I shook my head with a smile. “You need not worry. I have my own plan. There is no time to spare — while Song Huai’an is being kept in the study, slip away quickly through the side gate. I can only stall him for so long; the moment the military tally is in hand, he will quickly see through my intentions.”

“What will you do then?” Nanny Xu asked in alarm. “Are you really going to give him the military tally? Won’t all the capital’s troops fall into his hands?”

“The military tally is a lifeless object; the people are living beings. As long as the people remain, there will always be a way. If I don’t hand over the military tally, I cannot make him believe me. If at this moment I force him to turn against me openly, we will have only a dead end.” I clasped her hands in mine. “Rest easy — His Highness the Prince is already leading the great army back; at this moment they should already be on the way.”

I hastily wrote a letter and handed it to Nanny Xu, then sent her off. I called A’Yue in and told her to go in secret to the Prince Jiangxia’s residence, take out my elder brother’s four children, and bring them to wait at the Chonghua Gate. When all arrangements were made, I changed my clothes and dressed, carefully applying rouge to redden my eyes, then smoothing on a layer of fine powder to make my face look ghostly pale and white — truly like a grief-stricken widow brought to the brink of ruin.

When my makeup was done, I took the military tally and went to the study myself.

Song Huai’an took the wax-sealed box and opened it with urgent eagerness, examining it carefully.

He had indeed not been able to fully trust me; if the military tally proved false, he would likely turn against me on the spot.

“Your Highness entrusts me with such a weighty responsibility — Huai’an will pledge to follow unto death!” He could not conceal his delight, and bowed to me all the way to the floor.

“With you here, I have no worries about anything.” I forced a smile, then swayed and softly collapsed — feigning a faint.

Song Huai’an hurriedly summoned the imperial physicians. Eager to take control of the capital garrison, he hesitated for a moment, then took the military tally and headed off toward the eastern city camp.

The moment he was gone, I immediately summoned handmaids to disguise themselves as me, lying in the inner room — behind the bed curtains, no one could see clearly.

I slipped quietly out the side gate, in light clothes and a plain carriage, and drove straight to the Chancellor of the Right’s residence.

Using the military tally to lure him to the eastern city to take over the capital garrison troops — the round trip alone would take two full hours.

Taking advantage of this moment of luring the tiger away from the mountain, I already had sufficient time to arrange everything.

The carriage raced along; through the gap in the carriage curtains I looked back at the majestic imperially commissioned Prince Yuzhang’s residence, growing gradually distant in the morning light.

I abruptly dropped the curtain and closed my eyes, not daring to look back again.

This departure — whether it ended in life or death, success or failure, was all unknown. I left with such resolve, not looking back even once. Even when the two children were taken away by Nanny Xu, I had only held them once through their swaddling.

The children and I were Xiao Qi’s greatest vulnerability. The moment Song Huai’an learned that Xiao Qi was not dead, he would certainly hold us as hostages. The most urgent task before me was to send the two children far away and ensure their safety — only then could I fight with everything I had. Abbess Guangci had been my mother’s close confidante for many years; entrusting the two children to her care, with her and Nanny Xu to watch over them, whether I lived or died, they could safely weather this calamity.

But as for me — I could not, and would not, flee with them.

With the military tally in hand, if Song Huai’an then held Zidan hostage and issued decrees, it would inevitably grow into a catastrophe. I had no choice but to move ahead of him — to seal the palace, to signal the capital garrison troops with horn and beacon fire, to expose his treasonous act. Only then would there be any hope of stabilizing the capital guards. Once the conflict broke out into the open, the palace city was the only temporarily safe place. After all, it was the forbidden imperial palace; Song Huai’an would not dare to storm it by force, for doing so would be outright treason.

Even if he steeled himself to rebel, the palace city’s sturdiness and the resistance of eight thousand imperial guards could hold out for at least three to five days. Every additional day of holding out meant one more measure of hope and chance for survival. Once Xiao Qi arrived in person, the capital garrison troops would inevitably defect and return to their allegiance, and Song Huai’an, caught in a pincers within the city, would be no different from digging his own grave.

The carriage jolted and raced along, shaking my mind into a blur.

I knitted my brows and forced myself to trace the whole affair from beginning to end — yet there was always one crucial point I could not see through: had Song Huai’an premeditated all this from the very start?

The turning point of everything lay in that painstakingly crafted sealed dispatch. If I traced back from there, the dispatch did indeed come from Xiao Qi’s own hand — the military situation described within it, including his own death, were all his own fabrication.

He had sent this dispatch concealing a hidden message not only for me to see, but also for Song Huai’an to see — only that what I read was the true meaning, and what Song Huai’an read was false. The two intentions were diametrically opposed.

But what had happened before the sealed dispatch? Had Xiao Qi fallen early into Song Huai’an’s trap — or had Song Huai’an only stepped into a trap Xiao Qi had laid at this point?

Past events flashed before my eyes like lightning: Tang Jing’s sudden rebellion, the Turks’ deep incursion, the Hu clan’s case, and even the fate of the little imperial prince… Thinking back now, Song Huai’an’s shadow appeared at every critical juncture.

If there had been no inner accomplice, could Tang Jing and the Turks have proceeded so smoothly — calculating the timing with such precision, seizing the moment when the mountain road collapsed and news from the northern frontier could not pass through, to launch a massive invasion?

Only now did I begin to feel the seeds of doubt. And Xiao Qi — had he harbored suspicions about Song Huai’an before setting out on campaign? At what point had he discovered Song Huai’an’s conspiracy?

Song Huai’an — the closest, most trusted person at our side; and also the person nearest to that supreme position of power.

Standing just a single step away from the throne of all under heaven, with everything he had dreamed of within reach — yet standing before him was a towering mountain he could not surmount.

In hopeless times, one could still bend one’s head and walk the road beneath one’s feet. But once that towering mountain showed signs of crumbling, could one still go on bowing one’s head as before?

To reach out and push the mountain down, and take its place — or to willingly bow one’s head for a lifetime and halt before the mountain — Song Huai’an was a traitor, and also a man who had been seduced by temptation.

A thousand thoughts turned in my mind; the events of the past all rose before my eyes.

Tang Jing was dead; Song Huai’an had turned traitor. Yet had Hu Guanglie truly rebelled? Had he been used entirely by Song Huai’an, or was it — at its root — a smokescreen deliberately laid by Xiao Qi?

Amid a thousand tangled threads, something seemed about to leap out fully formed, the shape of the truth gradually taking definition — yet I could not find the key to it, still less guess the crucial pivot.

All the scheming comes to nothing; there is always someone scheming ahead of you. However clever and adaptable one might be, it cannot stand against the caprices of fate. Before me, mist lay heavy and dense — it was like walking along a pitch-black winding path, unable to see one’s hand before one’s face, with a bottomless abyss beneath every step.

The single point of light shining ahead was Xiao Qi.

My fate and his had already merged and intertwined — like blood and sinew and bone — impossible to separate even in death.

Having come to this point, even if he were to strike down heaven and destroy the earth, I could only draw my sword and follow.

I silently tightened my grip on the short sword in my sleeve. Even through the scabbard, a bone-piercing cold seemed to transmit from the hilt into my palm.

This sword had traveled with me from Ningshuo until now. It had once drunk blood on its frosty blade, saving my life from danger — and it could equally take my life in an instant.

I had already prepared for the worst. If the palace fell and the plan failed, I would rather draw the sword and take my own life — to perish together with all that I was prepared to destroy.