“Release arrows!”

Ming Yan’an’s cry was hoarse and desperate.

Almost the instant the sound emerged, over a hundred arrows were already trailing deep red tails, whistling forth. In people’s vision, they carved out countless crisscrossing blood-like streaks.

At this speed and distance, unless Jing Hengbo vanished immediately, she absolutely wouldn’t make it in time.

Ming Yan’an stared intently at the prison cart, afraid the chains would suddenly fall off, afraid she would suddenly flash away using her old tricks. Then wild joy swept through his heart—the chains were still there, Jing Hengbo was still there, and the fastest fire arrows had already reached the cart’s bars. Even if she tried to escape now, it was too late!

He even saw that at this moment, Jing Hengbo seemed to be reaching for something in her robes.

What could she pull out to save herself at this time? A palm-sized shield?

Ming Yan’an was about to laugh, opening his mouth to prepare for a magnificent laugh that would swallow mountains and rivers, to sound his triumphant voice for the victory that was about to come.

But suddenly he realized something was wrong.

When the fire arrows were released, where were the blades that should have sprung from the prison cart, enough to pierce Jing Hengbo with ten thousand cuts?

Why hadn’t the blades emerged?

Then he heard a voice: “Grow!”

Without any other sound, suddenly there was a sheet of green light before his eyes.

Layer upon layer, dense and thick green light.

He stared wide-eyed as the prison cart that had been half-covered with tiger claw vines was instantly completely covered in green leaves.

Layer after layer, branch after branch, under everyone’s stupefied gaze, those tiger claw vines were growing wildly at an indescribable speed. In an instant, the prison cart had expanded twice in size, wrapped densely by the tiger claw vines.

This scene was actually eerie—deep red fire trails approached from both sides like a red “一” character about to close, but in the middle section a huge green mass had sprouted and was still expanding.

“Crack crack” came continuous sounds. In the blink of an eye, the fire arrows struck the prison cart.

Flames did indeed ignite immediately, but because the green leaves themselves contained moisture, they didn’t burn as fast as imagined. Moreover, because the green leaves were extremely numerous and thick, they couldn’t burn through in a short time.

The surface layer of tiger claw vine leaves was immediately burned away, but more grew from within, and the regrowth speed was faster than the burning speed. The prison cart that burned and grew simultaneously was like it hid gods and demons inside, playing a game of moving earthly plants and trees.

Ming Yan’an’s gaping mouth couldn’t close. His originally flushed face suddenly turned pale, then blue. If his imperial physician were here, he would know Ming Yan’an was overly shocked and on the verge of another stroke.

But Chai Yu and all the other generals and ministers, along with the Fifteen Gangs watching from afar, were all stunned in place. No one could spare attention for others.

The soldiers fighting on all sides also noticed the abnormality here, turning back to look in shock and nearly dropping their weapons.

Not to mention the citizens who had been driven to “observe the ceremony”—they gaped open-mouthed, swallowing a belly full of smoke.

After a moment, someone shouted loudly: “The Heaven-ordained Queen cannot be burned by fierce fire!”

“Ming Yan’an acts against Heaven’s will—Heaven does not aid him!”

“The Queen is the Heaven-ordained ruler of our Daimao! Treacherous minister and usurper Ming Yan’an!”

At first scattered and unclear where they came from, gradually more and more people shouted. Sound waves gathered and crashed against the faces of Shangyuan’s troops and citizens. Many soldiers stopped fighting in confusion.

Ming Yan’an began to tremble, grabbing Chai Yu and slowly retreating into the crowd while people weren’t paying attention. A large group of shield-bearing soldiers surged up to protect him in their midst.

“Stop using fire! Go kill her! Go kill! She’s still in the cart!” Ming Yan’an shouted, his face and voice seemingly twisted.

A large group of soldiers charged forward with blades.

…

The gates of Chentie Pass opened, and soldiers poured into the city.

Tie Xinze had already heard about the Mo Army’s internal strife and their leader’s decapitation. He joyfully came down from the city walls to greet them personally.

Gong Yin didn’t move. He had no intention of interfering in Chentie affairs.

Murong Zhen, carrying the severed head, didn’t see Gong Yin, and his eyes flashed slightly before returning to normal.

He presented the head. Tie Xinze naturally praised and rewarded him, also asking about his position in the Mo Army and why he had acted thus. Murong Zhen answered frankly: “This humble officer is the seventh squad leader of the Mo Army’s Tianting Camp. Unable to bear seeing the general act so perversely and betray our lord, I specially rectified the disorder and presented this great traitor’s head to the Great King.”

“This king thought the entire Mo Army had betrayed us. Fortunately, there are still such loyal and righteous men!” Tie Xinze praised to those around him, then sighed. “Actually, even now, this king still cannot understand why the Mo Army betrayed us.”

Murong Zhen was silent for a while, then said: “Actually, there are hidden circumstances, and it’s a long story.”

“Oh?” Tie Xinze immediately pressed for details.

But Murong Zhen refused to say more, his expression clearly indicating “there are too many people here with loose tongues—not suitable for publicly discussing secrets.”

“In that case,” Tie Xinze immediately said, “later this king will stay at the pass’s guest house. You should also lodge there. Tonight this king will personally host a banquet for you, to thank you for your righteousness in assisting our army.”

Murong Zhen smiled sincerely. “Thank you, Great King.”

He never gave Gong Yin on the city wall a second glance.

On the city wall, Gong Yin also never looked at him once. He gazed toward Daimao and calculated on his fingers.

…

Daimao and Chentie were shrouded in faint war smoke, but Dige was bathed in peaceful spring light.

Spring light touched the black and white quiet courtyards green, and pavilions and towers were softened by deep misty rain. The normally somewhat hard lines also appeared poetically gentle.

A group of ministers walked solemnly out of the study in the quiet courtyard. The State Preceptor, unusually, personally stood at the door to see them off.

The ministers’ departing steps were somewhat hurried, knowing that busy times lay ahead.

Zou Zheng stood under the corridor eaves, watching the hurried backs of the departing crowd, barely controlling the wild joy in his eyes.

He never expected things would really proceed smoothly to this day!

Starting today, the departing ministers would prepare for the State Preceptor’s coronation.

The memorial about the State Preceptor’s coronation had been submitted five days ago. He had hesitated for a long time about this, wanting to act early lest long nights bring many dreams, yet fearing his foundation was unstable and his disguise would be discovered. He wanted to wait until he was firmly established before proceeding slowly. However, since impersonating the State Preceptor, everyone around him acted normally, and political orders from his hands flowed unobstructed. He really couldn’t see anything amiss. He had told himself countless times that if Gong Yin were truly not dead, how could he allow him to actually control Dahuang’s government? This was completely unreasonable.

Therefore, he gritted his teeth, thinking it better to realize his long-cherished wish early. Only by ascending to that supreme position could the panic and unease in his heart be slowly dissolved by actually wielded power.

He took the risk of summoning a censoring official and made hints to him. From his observations, this person was also flexible and clever. Sure enough, as he expected, the next day at court, that censoring official united with several colleagues of moderate influence to publicly petition for the State Preceptor’s coronation.

Still beyond his expectations, almost no minister opposed this motion. They responded with mountain-shaking cheers, as if they had been waiting a long time.

Subsequently, the Grand Chancellor, Deputy Chancellor, and chief officials of various departments flowed in for audiences. Regarding specific coronation matters, they produced various protocols—long lists with complete ceremonies that made his eyes blur, though his heart was so joyful he could hardly believe it.

All departments worked with surprisingly high efficiency. Today the Ministry of Rites came and had already selected a certain day later this month as an auspicious day for coronation.

Such fast action suited him perfectly. He secretly guessed that Gong Yin had indeed prepared for coronation early and given hints to his ministers, so when he mentioned it again, no one was surprised and they quickly got on track.

Could this be considered “best laid plans of mice and men,” yet he made wedding clothes for others?

Thinking this, he smiled smugly, feeling this March was truly the most magnificent spring of his life.

His gaze suddenly focused. On the flower wall ahead, a cluster of climbing roses trembled in the wind, one flower missing a petal.

He watched impassively, then returned to his study. After the evening meal, he said he wanted to go for a walk and refused to let Yu Chun and others follow.

He strolled quite casually. Now his gait and demeanor under moonlight were cool and cold, exactly like Gong Yin.

Palace servants naturally dared not approach the State Preceptor, who was like distant snow on high mountains.

Walking along, he neared the Queen’s sleeping palace. Recently, the guard around the Queen’s palace remained as strict as before—everyone had grown accustomed to it.

But now the palace doors were left open. He entered silently and waved at the guards, who flowed away like water.

Inside the sleeping palace, lights were dim, making the chambers appear deep and desolate. Ming Cheng waited for him in the only candlelight.

Pale yellow candlelight reflected on her face, which was white as thick paste—motionlessly cold, yet blazing flames seemed to emerge from the depths of her eyes.

“You need to give me an explanation,” she said.

“I need give no explanation.” Zou Zheng now spoke very much like Gong Yin.

“Then I can only remove your mask and tell the world there’s a fraud here.” Ming Cheng smiled. Somehow, when she smiled now, there were already slight wrinkles at the corners of her eyes.

“You should know your threats are useless.” Zou Zheng casually flicked his fingers. “Without my orders, you cannot leave this sleeping palace at all.”

Ming Cheng stood up, the wind from her movement making the candlelight flicker, her smile appearing bright and dark alternately. “Is that so? But do you think I necessarily need to leave the sleeping palace to expose your secret of stealing peaches for plums?”

“You might as well try.” The candlelight flickered. Zou Zheng casually picked up jade scissors from the table to trim the wick.

Ming Cheng watched his movements expressionlessly.

Zou Zheng suddenly put down the scissors and stared into her eyes. “These scissors or this wick wouldn’t have any tricks, would they?”

“I wouldn’t know, but you could try.” Ming Cheng said melodiously. “Just like these recent days—haven’t you played enough tricks on me?”

Zou Zheng paused and lowered his eyelashes. “I must admit, you’ve impressed me.”

“How did you not think that perhaps someone is helping me?” Ming Cheng’s smile suddenly gained several parts mysterious meaning. “You see, I just said I don’t need to leave the sleeping palace to expose your disguise. Why don’t you ask further?”

“Who could help you? Who could help you within this Yuzhao Palace?” Zou Zheng sneered.

“Guess,” Ming Cheng also flicked her fingers, smiling carelessly. “Perhaps some minister, perhaps some palace maid, perhaps someone by your side, perhaps someone no one would think of, perhaps…” She suddenly whispered in a breath-voice: “A dead person.”

In the dark room with its single candle, cold wind passing through the hall, accompanied by this woman’s pale face and mysterious voice, Zou Zheng suddenly shivered uncontrollably, feeling something cool seeping out of his back.

But he wouldn’t show weakness on his face. He impatiently slammed down the scissors heavily. “Playing ghost!”

Though he cursed thus, unease was inevitable in his heart. Recently, Ming Cheng’s situation had indeed made him suspicious. After deciding to be crowned, to eliminate Ming Cheng’s threat, he had instructed Yu Chun to secretly act, but Ming Cheng was extremely vigilant, and they had never succeeded.

Moreover, another matter disturbed him—Meng Hu’s whereabouts. Though he had fabricated a reason, when he finished assassinating Gong Yin and went back to find Meng Hu’s corpse, he could no longer find it.

Ming Cheng had said perhaps “another party” had helped dispose of it, but she had been eager to escape back to the palace then and hurriedly parted from that helper without time to ask details. It was just speculation—and even if she said so, was it necessarily true?

Meng Hu was Gong Yin’s first confidant. If he wasn’t dead, everything he did was in vain. He had been anxious about this for many days, but like Gong Yin’s death, Meng Hu’s matter also had no developments.

If Meng Hu were still alive, he absolutely couldn’t remain silent and allow him to steal peaches for plums.

The logic was thus, but unease remained in his heart. Now seeing Ming Cheng’s seemingly confident yet mysteriously secretive expression, this unease was like a beast lurking in the dark night, slowly approaching.

He paused and finally decided it was better not to take risks.

“Stop thinking wildly here.” He softened his tone, staring into Ming Cheng’s eyes. “My coronation is not a bad thing for you. Do you still think, given the current situation, you can be made a queen with real power?”

Ming Cheng didn’t speak, slowly taking her seat. A queen with real power was indeed unrealistic—look at Jing Hengbo’s fate. But to continue living like this? To fight for a bit of limited freedom? Then what was the point of taking such great risks?

“I know you’re unwilling.” Zou Zheng suddenly raised his hand and placed it over the back of her hand.

Ming Cheng started, seeming to want to withdraw her hand for an instant, but ultimately didn’t move. She hung her head so Zou Zheng couldn’t see her expression, only seeing her small nose peak, below which pink lips pressed into a tight line. The skin on the back of her hand was also tense, but after a moment, it was slowly relaxing.

Her attitude settled his heart. He smiled mockingly—women, always like this.

“You’ve gotten into a dead end.” His persuasive tone was the kind most suitable for swaying women. “Why must you be a queen? How many restrictions does Dahuang’s imperial law place on queens? How did you forget about another destiny for queens?”

The back of Ming Cheng’s hand trembled again.

“Become my empress.” Zou Zheng took her hand and placed it in his palm, gently caressing with his fingertips. His cold, sharp demeanor became spring wind and gentle rain, as if truly sincere and deeply affectionate at this moment. “The State Preceptor and Queen were naturally made for each other. At my coronation ceremony, I’ll establish you as empress. You won’t need to be that puppet queen anymore, won’t be in opposition to me. From now on, we’ll openly join hands and hearts, sharing the world together. Wouldn’t that be good?”

Ming Cheng never raised her head, nor refused. Zou Zheng smiled at her, his blue eyes carrying slightly sinister air.

After a good while, Ming Cheng finally raised her head, but with a face full of spring colors and brimming smiles.

“If so, very good.”

“Excellent.” Zou Zheng’s lips curved slightly—a satisfied arc. He knew ambitious women couldn’t resist such temptation.

“But I have another request.”

“We’ll be husband and wife as one body—speak freely.”

“You must proclaim to the world, with the most grand ceremony, welcome me as empress. On the day you welcome me as empress, you must depose the Black Water Queen and grant her death.”

“Good.”

…

“Kill her!”

Ming Yan’an’s roar echoed in the wind.

Soldiers rushed forward, their swords and blades about to pierce through the blazing tiger claw vines into the prison cart.

Suddenly “bang”—the four cart doors burst open, striking those people’s weapons and knocking the killing instruments aside.

Everyone was shocked again—how had the cart doors opened?

The prison cart had been modified so all four locks had to be opened simultaneously, meaning four people with keys had to act together to open the doors. But now all four doors opened together, and Ming Yan’an only heard one unlocking sound.

With all four doors open, the tiger claw vines were still growing. After a moment, they blocked the opened doors again, still making it impossible to see Jing Hengbo’s condition inside clearly.

Ming Yan’an very much wanted to see whether Jing Hengbo had broken free from the chains in the cart. The chains were made of white iron, with only one set of keys, in an extremely secret place on his person.

These keys were of crucial importance—he hadn’t even told his most trusted strategist about them.

But he dared not approach.

What if Jing Hengbo had already broken free from the chains and was waiting in the cart like a spider in its web… He shivered.

Chai Yu beside him suddenly said: “She definitely hasn’t broken free from the chains. She’s just frightening the others. I’ll go look!”

“Why should you personally take such risks!” He immediately restrained her.

“This woman has too many tricks. The soldiers think it’s supernatural—military morale will scatter!” Chai Yu pointed at the cart and said sternly: “As a commander, one cannot continue cowering behind others. One must lead by example!”

Ming Yan’an’s face reddened and his hand loosened. Chai Yu spurred her horse forward. Ming Yan’an felt both ashamed and grateful. Suddenly his blood surged and he shouted loudly at her retreating figure: “Princess Consort, be careful!”

He expressed his determination and gratitude thus, and also indicated her nobility to the soldiers and the royal family’s determination to live and die with the troops.

A roar arose from all sides. The ministers and citizens avoiding the area from afar looked at Chai Yu in surprise, not expecting the Great King’s new princess consort had already been established.

Chai Yu waved her hand, her voice clear: “Thank you, Great King!”

She rode straight to the prison cart but didn’t approach closely, directly grabbing the spear from her horse and thrusting at the still-silent cart.

Everyone held their breath.

The next instant, a cold laugh seemed to come from within the cart: “Come!”

Chai Yu’s body tilted as her spear pierced through the cart, but she herself seemed grasped by invisible giant hands, her body stiffly pulled into the prison cart.

“Splash”—she passed through the vines, which were still growing and immediately covered the gap.

The change happened suddenly. Everyone was stunned again, then Ming Yan’an shouted: “Put out the fire! Put out the fire!”

People pushed over prepared water buckets, splashing water down. The fire was extinguished.

The dripping wet leaves stirred, revealing Jing Hengbo’s face—somewhat smoke-stained but still smiling. With one hand gripping Chai Yu’s neck, she waved at Ming Yan’an: “Great King, is this your princess consort? Congratulations, congratulations on establishing a new princess consort. How about it? Do you plan to protect this princess consort or not?”

Ming Yan’an’s face was blue-white as he stared suspiciously at Chai Yu. He had doubts in his heart and wanted to test, but having just proclaimed this princess consort before ten thousand troops with deep affection, to turn around and disregard her life immediately—with so many ministers and citizens present, if this got out, he would truly be a cold-hearted ruler. How could he control Daimao afterward?

His heart pounded, blood seemed to rush in his head in waves, making him dizzy. He didn’t know his half-blue, half-red face looked terrifying. Only then he suddenly remembered his medicine seemed to still be with her. After thinking, he said: “What do you want?”

“The keys, of course.” Jing Hengbo always had that lazy tone that made people feel even the greatest matters seemed unimportant in such soft pronunciation.

Ming Yan’an’s face was iron-blue as he fumbled in his robes for a long time, producing a small brocade pouch and having someone deliver it.

Jing Hengbo pointed at the pouch with her finger. The person delivering it opened the pouch and poured out several small golden keys.

Only then did Jing Hengbo nod, parting a gap in the tiger claw vines and gesturing for him to throw it over.

The soldier threw the pouch inside.

Ming Yan’an’s eyes flashed, his lips curving coldly.

The pouch passed through the tiger claw vine gap as Jing Hengbo reached out to catch it.

As she reached out, her hand involuntarily left Chai Yu, releasing her neck. Chai Yu suddenly flashed like lightning, grabbing the pouch and stuffing it in her mouth.

Everyone stared agape as she held her neck straight, desperately swallowing the pouch.

Jing Hengbo was furious, reaching back to strangle her neck, shouting: “Spit it out! Spit it out!”

As she loosened her grip, the tiger claw vines fell down again with a splash, covering the cart. Everyone only saw violent shaking of the cart with vague groaning sounds and clanking chains, as if two people were fighting fiercely.

This was another shocking change. Everyone couldn’t react. Ming Yan’an was both shocked and delighted, the blue and red on his face flashing even faster. He unconsciously spurred his horse forward several steps and felt his chest.

The tiger claw vines were still growing, already hanging to the ground and even spreading outward, like green ghosts rapidly crawling forward on the ground. Seeing this made soldiers’ hearts chill, and they couldn’t help stepping back.

By now both sides had stopped fighting. Shangyuan troops couldn’t spare attention for the Halberd Army, and the Halberd Army forgot about fighting desperately. Crowds were surging toward this central point, while Ming Yan’an’s bodyguards used long spears to keep people out.

Ten thousand troops held their breath, waiting for the fight between two women—a fight between women that would vaguely determine Daimao’s final fate.

Suddenly a scream “Ah!” came from the cart. By the voice, it was actually Jing Hengbo’s distinctive tone. Shangyuan troops were greatly encouraged while the Halberd Army was shocked.

The cart shook again. Suddenly “bang”—a sound rang out. Everyone vaguely saw through gaps in the green leaves what seemed like a flash of fire, then someone cried “Ah!” and suddenly crashed outward.

Everyone stared at the person who crashed out—purple skirt and silk drape, it was clearly Chai Yu. The Halberd Army was thunderstruck while Shangyuan troops let out a long breath, unable to help shouting: “The Princess Consort is brave!”

When Chai Yu came out, she had crashed open the door, and everyone could already see fire leaping inside.

Earlier they had splashed water on the outer tiger claw vines, but inside had been doused with oil beforehand, which naturally couldn’t be washed away. Previously the tiger claw vines were dense and thick, blocking the fire, so the inside hadn’t burned. Now fire started in the cart, immediately blazing fiercely. Everyone saw that the chains inside were still unbroken, and the person chained was already completely engulfed in flames, desperately convulsing and struggling. Probably the pain was too great—she couldn’t even make sounds.

Burning someone alive before a crowd was an extremely cruel punishment. Everyone couldn’t help stepping back, averting their eyes from the direct sight, cold sweat seeping from their palms.

Such burning… there was no way to survive…

Chai Yu rolled out on the ground in disarray. Ming Yan’an personally dismounted to catch her. The blue and red on his face grew more intense, looking increasingly terrifying, though he was completely unaware, his face full of excitement and joy: “Good! Good! Thanks to you!”

Chai Yu stood up with his support. The two silently stared at the burning cart, watching as the ball of fire inside soundlessly devoured that writhing, struggling, agonized figure until it burned into a charred corpse.