While Consort Li sought help within the palace, Minister Liu Yuan was step by step approaching the bell tower.

The bell tower area had no guards because none were needed – the crossbow mechanisms of the four corner towers forever guarded the bell tower.

He climbed the steps, viewing the entire royal city as he walked.

These towering walls, this magnificent palace complex, this vast land, this bustling Luoyun – after tonight, he would see them no more.

The tower stood high, his gaze piercing through the empty plaza and projecting toward the road ahead.

The crisscrossing streets lay clearly before his eyes. Directly facing the plaza was the essential route to reach the royal palace. If Ge Lian’s army came, they would inevitably pass through here.

On both sides were Tianguan Ward and Cifu Ward, the residential areas where all the court’s high ministers gathered, and not far behind them lay the offices of the Six Ministries.

At this moment, those grand mansions and compounds did not look peaceful from afar. Faint lights flickered dimly – it seemed many people in today’s eerily atmospheric royal city had caught the scent of something ominous.

Liu Yuan smiled with satisfaction.

This way, when the bell rang shortly, these people would arrive quickly.

He stepped onto the bell tower’s stairway.

The ground trembled slightly beneath his feet as he heard the mechanisms of the four corner towers faintly activating with creaking sounds, very clear in the quiet night.

The mechanisms needed time to activate – they wouldn’t actually fire until he reached halfway up the bell tower. This was the designer’s consideration, hoping those who entered by mistake would still have a chance to turn back.

Liu Yuan looked back and vaguely saw dust rising at the end of that main thoroughfare.

It was a black cloud silently rolling through the long street, iron armor reflecting a cold moon, spear points piercing the pale green sky.

Only Luoyun’s military wore colors other than white.

Ge Lian had finally mobilized the army, stepping onto the path of rebellion according to her original plan.

For a mere woman to suddenly command two military forces was actually not easy. Ge Lian thought her luck was good, but didn’t know that Gong Yin and his disciples had been helping all along.

For instance, casually eliminating a general who harbored doubts and had gathered his personal troops, preparing to storm the command tent to stop her.

For instance, capturing the Capital Guard commander who was stubborn by nature, completely unwilling to listen to a woman’s commands, and firmly demanding the Crown Prince’s personal presence before he would mobilize troops from camp, and throwing him directly into a mud pond.

Twenty thousand troops held absolute military authority in Luoyun’s royal city at this moment.

Liu Yuan withdrew his gaze and stepped up the stairs. At the final step before triggering the crossbow mechanisms, he paused, turned around, knelt down, and facing the royal palace, prostrated himself three times.

Moonlight cold and harsh illuminated his white hair.

In this moment, only the sound of his forehead touching the wooden floor was clear and crisp – it was the sound of great virtue, resounding throughout the universe.

After rising, he turned to gaze deeply in another direction. In that direction stood a small courtyard. Though he couldn’t see it now, he could clearly envision that courtyard’s appearance – a flower stone path, blue tiles and white walls, green moss covering the base of the walls, old wood windows weathered to a deep red shine over the years, with the only decoration being copper bells his old wife had hung there ten years ago. They chimed when the wind passed, yet he had never been startled awake from deep sleep, because all these years he had maintained uprightness, self-reflection, proper conduct, and clarity.

That was his courtyard – poor but tidy, not as magnificent and imposing as the grand mansions around it, yet possessing its own great freedom of a clear conscience.

He gazed for a long while, then sighed softly.

Not betraying his lord, not betraying his country, not betraying his people – he could only betray himself and his family.

When a man established himself in the world, before great principles, every step was life or death.

Dust rose, armor and weapons drew near.

He tore off a piece from his robe hem and tucked it at his waist. Turning around, he lifted his foot and stepped onto the next level – also among the final steps of his life.

“Click—” The mechanism responded faintly in the distance, playing death’s music.

Faster than imagined, the mechanism’s sound had just reached his ears when the next instant wind whistled fiercely toward the back of his head. He had no time to think and lunged forward desperately.

“Thud!” The arrow that should have struck the back of his head instead pierced his right arm. The crossbow mechanism’s force was so tremendous that it pinned his arm directly to the stairway.

Blood flowed and pooled on the spiral staircase.

He gritted his teeth, grasped the arrow, and forcibly pulled his arm free along with the arrow.

Without stopping, he stumbled forward. Three steps later came another “click—”

This time he moved even faster, lunging forward again, but after being wounded his reactions had slowed. “Swoosh!” An arrow pierced his right leg.

Liu Yuan’s body trembled, sweat rolling down. He was already physically weak, and with such severe injuries, he knew he had no chance of survival.

Suddenly there seemed to be a cool breeze below. He lowered his eyes and through the gaps in the stairway vaguely saw what appeared to be white shadows in the plaza.

His heart jumped in alarm, but those white shadows all stood motionless like clay sculptures, silent and upright.

Liu Yuan paid them no mind. Right now, even if the Heavenly King himself came, nothing could stop him from walking this path to the end. Whoever tried to stop him would be cursed daily, even if he fell to the nine levels of hell.

With his right arm and right leg both disabled, Liu Yuan began to crawl.

Dragging his severed limbs, he struggled to move up the stairway. Never in his life had any path been so long. The stairway was spiral, and when turning corners, he had to gather up and lift the limbs twisted at grotesque angles.

Extreme pain became numbness. He raised a pale face – blood loss affected strength most, and steps that normally seemed climbable in just a few paces now appeared as distant as ascending to heaven.

This journey to the end was like climbing to heaven.

Blood flowed downward all the way, while he climbed upward.

The crossbow mechanisms had no life, only responsible for precise calibration, aiming, cocking, and firing.

“Swoosh swoosh” After the continuous sounds, only a pile of flesh and blood remained crawling on the stairway.

The flesh and blood still moved, inch by inch, step by step.

At the final step of the stairway, Liu Yuan raised his head. Above was the bronze bell, its massive shadow covering the ground in all directions.

Mountains and rivers like a bell – strike it with life.

On the main road ahead, the dust raised by the army was already visible, gray-yellow, reaching to the horizon.

This was the darkest moment before dawn. The next instant, no one knew whether it would be cloudy or clear.

The bronze bell hung high, three feet from the ground. Liu Yuan could no longer stand.

He took out the piece of robe hem tucked at his waist. At this moment, only that piece of cloth was not stained with blood. He dipped it in his own blood and began to write. After finishing, he tied the cloth to the white marble railing before the bronze bell, and that piece of cloth fluttered like a blood-red banner.

Then he untied his belt, hung the blood-stained cloth on the bell’s hanging clapper, and suspended himself from the belt.

His entire body weight pulled on the bronze bell as he swayed powerlessly back and forth.

“Dong, dong, dong.”

The vast sound pierced clouds and split stone, like a great wind sweeping across the plaza, across the royal palace, across all of sleeping Luoyun.

Liu Yuan struggled to open his blood-crusted eyelids. In his final blurred vision, he seemed to see ministers startled and running, galloping horses racing wildly, the plaza in chaos with scattered blood, the armored King shouting wildly; he saw rebel armies flowing like floods and receding like blood tides; saw iron armor clashing with weapons, cold sounds reaching the heavens; saw the white marble ground like a field of snow, stained with fresh blood, corpses scattered with none to collect them, flesh and wild flowers alike crushed under iron boots.

These were all human lives… the lives of Luoyun people.

Heaven’s will was so harsh and cold. He only had time to do his part – with death.

Liu Yuan’s eyelids slowly drooped down.

“Sorry, old woman…”

“A husband dies for his country…”

His voice gradually faded as his heroic soul dissolved into heaven and earth.

At the moment he closed his eyes.

At the moment the bell rang.

Countless ministers started from their beds, threw on clothes and rushed out, not bothering with sedan chairs, madly spurring horses, heading straight for the royal city.

Ge Shen suddenly turned his head toward the palace gate direction. His face first showed a flash of rage, then immediately turned to shock as he suddenly stretched out his arm and shouted, “All palace guards assemble! Head for the palace gate! Send people immediately to the Imperial Guard camp – all battalions gather and enter through Chengtian Gate, quickly rescue the King!”

Inside and outside the royal city, countless soldiers donned helmets and armor, their iron boots echoing on the palace roads as torches and crowds gathered together, surging mightily toward the royal city.

Ge Lian suddenly raised her head, gazing toward the plaza direction, her face deathly pale.

She could never have imagined someone would ring the warning bell!

She knew someone was interfering and roughly knew who it was. She even understood the opponent’s intent – to take revenge on Luoyun, to provoke war within Luoyun’s royal family. Precisely because of this, she had determined the other party wouldn’t sabotage her military action. She had an opportunity – as long as she seized the moment and eliminated Ge Shen, once she controlled power, it wouldn’t be too late to deal with those people. Even if she couldn’t handle them, after they stirred up chaos in Luoyun and departed, the chaos and damage would be Luoyun’s. For her, as long as she gained power, it was better than living precariously under that cold father’s oppression.

Having calculated so clearly, she had stepped into the opponent’s open conspiracy.

Now, before the war had even begun, how could the bell ring?

This was impossible!

Her fingers trembled slightly, but her spine remained straight. Seeing her subordinates’ uneasy expressions upon hearing the bell, she pointed toward the plaza ahead and declared fiercely, “Listen! The nation is in peril, the warning bell tolls! Besides the King being in distress, who else could ring this bell? The King summons us to rescue him – what are we dawdling for!”

The soldiers immediately became tense, raising their whips and spurring their horses, becoming even more convinced of her claim that “the King is held hostage and needs rescue.” Ge Lian relaxed slightly, thinking that the Capital Guard and Five Cities Military Commissioner’s Office each had twenty thousand troops, while the Imperial Guard had ten thousand – these were Luoyun City’s main military forces. Although she could currently only mobilize half the troops from the Capital Guard and Five Cities Military Commissioner’s Office, the King would suspect both forces had rebelled because they came from these two armies. No matter what, he wouldn’t dare deploy them again, so he could only use the Imperial Guard’s ten thousand and the palace guard’s five thousand. Her twenty thousand-plus against the King’s fifteen thousand, and that ten thousand might not arrive in time – victory was still within reach!

Her heart settled somewhat as she spurred her horse faster, yet unease lingered – why would someone ring that bell? Why hadn’t the person stirring up trouble behind the scenes prevented it?

At this moment.

In the plaza, still temporarily quiet as water.

A group of white-clothed people had settled sparsely.

At their head was Gong Yin, standing not far from the bell tower, looking up at the tower’s peak. Liu Yuan’s corpse still swayed restlessly in the high winds, and even after his death, the bronze bell continued to resonate with each strike, sound by sound, until all of Luoyun was awakened.

Gong Yin did not go to disturb him.

He had actually arrived earlier, at a very opportune moment – just when Liu Yuan had lost his right arm and leg but was still crawling toward the bell tower.

Gong Yin knew that according to his plan, he should go up and pull him down.

Yet he stood motionless and stopped all his disciples’ movements.

“Watch,” he said.

A group of Dragon family masters stood straight and upright, watching that minister walk his path to death.

Knowing that letting him ring the bell would add variables to their plan, would make it difficult for Luoyun’s upheaval to begin, and would create difficulties for their later escape amid the chaos, still no one moved.

There was a kind of persistence and integrity that demanded respect.

Such moral character – even enemies must honor it.

The bell rang.

Gong Yin slightly bowed forward.

He bowed neither to heaven, earth, ruler, parents, nor teachers – regardless of enemy or friend, victory or defeat, he only bowed to moral integrity.

Behind him, the white-clothed crowd like snow-laden pines, all bowed together.

…

The bell rang, but Jing Hengbo couldn’t hear it.

She rolled along the ground all the way. This ground was like a seesaw, tilted at an extreme angle. Her eyes fixed on the front – Ge Shao had just rolled down from here.

But then her eyes widened – ahead was a wall!

For an instant she hesitated whether to jump up and escape to avoid a bloody head injury, or trust her eyes and grit her teeth to crash into it.

Someone was rapidly rolling over from behind, embracing her and heading toward the wall.

Jing Hengbo had no time to stop them, only sensing from the faint medicinal scent that it was Yélu Qi.

Just when the two were still three inches from the wall, the wall seemed to sense the vibration and suddenly withdrew backward.

Jing Hengbo felt like a pile of garbage being swept into a dustpan.

The royal nobility of Dahuang’s various nations supposedly all liked installing various mechanisms and secret passages in their homes, with different design methods. This was a habit passed down from the founding Empress. The Empress had killed too many people and made too many enemies. Though seemingly powerful, she ultimately felt insecure and dug an equally massive underground palace beneath her palace.

This passage was different from any Jing Hengbo had seen. Others were long and narrow; this was flat and tight, like a flat bag, gathering people downward.

Jing Hengbo remembered that statement: “The master switch is underground – I want you all to die.”

Though she didn’t believe Ge Shao’s status was sufficient for her to know the core mechanisms capable of destroying the entire Luoyun court, her deep wariness of the two sisters still made her follow.

The matter was serious – all her followers were in the palace. If nothing unexpected happened, Gong Yin should also be able to quickly complete what he needed to do and return to find her. If there really were some earth-shattering mechanisms in Luoyun palace that could harm them, that wasn’t something she wanted to see.

Even a one-in-a-thousand possibility was unacceptable.

Rolling down was instinctive, but as soon as her body fell she began to regret it – she was full of life and vigor, always forgetting there was another one in her belly.

Fortunately, Yélu Qi had embraced her in time, protecting her in his arms. This secret passage was also smooth and straight downward without steps, so it wouldn’t cause harm.

As she rolled, she wondered what could cause disaster for the entire Luoyun royal palace.

Thinking about it, it seemed impossible. This era had no weapons with excessive destructive power, but her heart remained vaguely uneasy.

For Ge Shao to run in here even unto death, she must have her obsession.

Suddenly Yélu Qi’s body stopped, and Jing Hengbo also felt they’d reached the bottom. Looking up, she saw a wall before them with a rotating disc – half blue, half black. The disc was stained with blood, presumably Ge Shao’s.

Obviously this was a door or mechanism. Ge Shao had already opened the door and entered.

How to open this door?

Jing Hengbo could teleport, but teleportation required her to have spatial awareness of her destination and guarantee sufficient space for existence.

But what was solid and what was empty behind this wall, she didn’t know. Her consciousness could hardly find an accurate landing point. To avoid danger, her mind would first cut off the possibility of movement.

Jing Hengbo thought for a moment, then she and Yélu Qi each chose a position at the top that no mechanism could harm – a dead angle. She found a piece of broken wood on the ground and, staying far away in the dead angle, controlled the wood to slowly push the rotating disc.

Pushing left released a cluster of poison arrows.

Pushing right made the ground rumble and sink a layer, revealing the bottom layer full of densely packed scorpions and poisonous insects.

Yélu Qi had been concentrating on listening to mechanism sounds behind them when he suddenly said, “Try left three turns first, then right one turn, then left one turn.”

Jing Hengbo followed his instructions. This time the entire disc popped out, smashing the opposite stone wall to pieces, then quickly bounced back.

But in that instant, the sharp-eyed Yélu Qi had already seen the mechanism’s construction inside and quickly said, “Two left turns is enough, then right one, left one!”

This time came a “click” sound as the disc split in two, revealing two secret passages.

The passages went in completely opposite directions, both pitch black with no visible differences.

Jing Hengbo knew that choosing the wrong passage would be equally fatal.

Yélu Qi lay on the ground, listening carefully for a while, then said, “There are faint breathing sounds in the left passage.” He also reached out to pinch a clump of earth from the left passage entrance – the soil was slightly darker, emanating a faint bloody scent.

“Ge Shao is on the left.”

The path was very winding, dug quite roughly, completely lacking royal secret passage standards. The ground wasn’t even paved with bluestone, and there were no lights. Such a tunnel couldn’t possibly have mechanisms, so they walked with confidence.

After walking through three or four turns, a stone door suddenly appeared before them. It was strange for such a crude place to have a stone door, and that door was exceptionally thick and heavy. Looking at this door, Jing Hengbo had a flash of thought – this door didn’t look like it was meant to be pushed open by people, but rather like it was blocking people from entering.

Then she couldn’t help but smile, thinking she’d read too many treasure protection manuals.

Suddenly she noticed some light. Looking carefully, she realized firelight was flickering through the stone door’s cracks.

She pressed against the door and looked for a long time before seeing that inside was quite a large space – just an empty room with a giant cauldron. The cauldron was strangely connected to a huge pipe, with a wind furnace beneath showing flickering firelight, obviously already lit. She could vaguely hear bubbling sounds like boiling liquid.

This scene looked like alchemy. Could it be that Ge Shao, severely wounded, knew there were spiritual medicines down here and came to save herself?

Beside the cauldron was a person wearing a long robe from head to toe and a mask covering the entire head. The whole person was completely covered like a moving giant jar. If not for her extreme weakness, occasionally gasping when adding fuel, Jing Hengbo could hardly confirm whether that was Ge Shao.

Ge Shao’s thoroughly covered appearance and that huge pipe obviously leading upward gave her an ominous feeling.

Damn it, this isn’t some biochemical weapon gas chamber, is it?

In this era, besides this thing, what else could instantly destroy an entire palace full of intruders?

“Can you calculate where this pipe’s exit should be?” she whispered to Yélu Qi.

Yélu Qi’s expression was also quite grave. He closed his eyes to think, then said, “It should be at the palace gate entrance directly facing the plaza.”

Jing Hengbo’s face changed.

Ge Lian would soon attack the royal palace, definitely assaulting through the palace gate facing the plaza. The palace would certainly organize resistance, with tens of thousands of troops gathering in that area. If Pei Shu, Gong Yin, and others got blocked, or if her group of fools got interested and wanted to join the fight, then any poison gas emerging would harm her companions.

Moreover, she felt this giant cauldron sealed in the royal palace underground, this entire design and arrangement, was clearly not a refuge but a forbidden zone.

So what exactly would emerge – perhaps worse than she imagined. Ancient transmission of infectious diseases was always surprisingly swift…

Yélu Qi suddenly began tearing his clothing, wrapping her head and face densely, whispering quickly, “I know I can’t stop you right now… Promise me, don’t breathe, don’t worry about Ge Shao, protect yourself, quickly extinguish the fire, and leave immediately!”

After thinking, he added, “Whether you can extinguish the fire or not, you must return immediately! Don’t be foolish! Even if poisonous smoke spreads, it needs time. They might not be at the exit, and outside they might not easily be poisoned. You’re in the most danger here inside!”

Jing Hengbo’s eyes filled with gratitude as she grasped his hand, “I thought you’d pretend to be weak and hold me back from going…”

“I really want to…” Yélu Qi smiled bitterly.

He really wanted to hold her back, knock her unconscious and leave directly, but couldn’t bear to let her be injured.

Carrying her away forcibly – if something really went wrong, how would she spend the rest of her life?

“Don’t worry.” Jing Hengbo patted his hand and flashed into the door.

The next moment she rushed straight toward the cauldron.

But reaching it, she was dumbfounded. The cauldron was too big – only when she flashed close did she realize it was three men tall. Just the three legs were as tall as her own legs. Though the ignition point was at the bottom, the fire had already reached the cauldron’s belly. Several wind ports in the belly flickered with firelight, and before getting close, rolling heat waves were already overwhelming. She flashed up to try opening the wind ports, but before standing steady she groaned and crashed down. Looking at her feet, her boot tips were already burned off.

The cauldron’s temperature was already extremely high and couldn’t be approached.

As for that pipe, without looking she knew that pipe thinner than the cauldron, standing in the cauldron and going straight up, must now be hot enough to cook on directly. If Jing Hengbo pressed against it, she could immediately become roasted Hengbo.

Jing Hengbo waved her hand, and daggers flew up, slashing fiercely at the pipe. But aside from a few sparks, not even a mark was visible.

This entire cauldron was seamlessly forged – she had no way to break it.

Behind her came laughing sounds mixed with muffled coughs. Ge Shao slowly moved over, her voice from within the hood hoarse and unpleasant, yet full of satisfaction.

“…Want to extinguish the fire? Right now the fire is in the cauldron – do you want to crawl in and put it out?”

Jing Hengbo stared intently at her. Ge Shao’s eyes were full of a dying person’s madness and the satisfaction of impending successful revenge.

“They’ll all be at the palace gate, she’ll be at the palace gate. She said that someday when she’s no longer oppressed by others, she must lead a great army, ascend the city tower, and properly overlook Luoyun once… Now, she, Ge Shen, the entire royal family, the entire court, and all of you who dare oppose me and harm me… will all be buried with me! Buried with me!”

Ge Shao’s hoarse, mad laughter echoed in the spacious underground chamber.

At this moment, flames in the cauldron flickered along with Ge Shao’s eerie gaze.

At this moment, the bubbling sounds became more obvious, with vague sounds of liquid flowing appearing.

At this moment, Pei Shu and others were moving from inside the palace toward outside, while Gong Yin was moving from outside the palace toward inside, all converging toward the palace gate direction.

…