The murmuring voice was like a dream, yet clear, “…do you want me?”

He was struck as if by lightning, abruptly raising his head.

She giggled softly, suddenly embracing his neck and falling backward.

Gong Yin involuntarily collapsed onto her. Just before crushing her, he braced himself with his arms. In the darkness, she couldn’t see his face clearly, but could hear his suddenly rapid breathing.

She chuckled softly, grabbing the front of his robes and yanking.

“Rip.” With one sound, a straight collarbone line gleamed with snow-white skin under her gaze.

She leaned up, gently pressing her face against his chest. Instantly, fragrance overwhelmed the senses.

His arms seemed to weaken, and he collapsed onto her. She began breathing slightly heavily, extending her arms to embrace him.

The room filled with swirling fragrance—like the cold, pure scent of snow on plum blossoms, yet entangled with rich, gorgeous peony-like fragrance. Distinct yet unified, smoke curled from the double-eared tripod inscribed with fortune, longevity, and double happiness characters, veiling the springtime atmosphere of the room.

Outside the window, wind seemed to rise, sweeping scattered broken branches against the window paper with rustling sounds. Dahuang’s snow season was approaching.

But suddenly urgent footsteps came!

At the same time, urgent and tense reporting voices echoed throughout the entire Yuzhao Palace!

“Report!”

“The Fushui Division Commander’s injuries have flared up and he has died suddenly!”

“All Fushui Division members in the capital are furious with righteous indignation and have gathered in full force, approaching Yuzhao Palace!”

…

Torches illuminated the night, and from afar, the dark sky seemed to have a red hole burned through it.

When Jing Hengbo and Gong Yin rushed to the front of Yuzhao Palace, they saw countless leaping torches forming an unbroken deep red blood-like band surrounding Yuzhao Palace.

The crowd was clamoring. Jing Hengbo listened for a long while before making out what they were shouting: “The Queen secretly assassinated eight division dignitaries! Stirring up royal court disputes! Hand over the Queen! Kill the Queen!”

She stood stunned in place, completely unable to understand how the matter had suddenly fallen on her head.

Commander Cheng was dead?

What did his death have to do with her? After he was sent back to his mansion, what exactly had happened?

“Open the gates!” Jing Hengbo looked up and shouted. She didn’t believe this news. She wanted to leave the city, she wanted to find out exactly what had happened!

The assassin who attacked Commander Cheng had clearly been blocked by her. Commander Cheng hadn’t even lost much blood at the time, and when he left, he was perfectly fine. How could he suddenly have his injuries flare up and die after returning home?

This was impossible!

She looked up. Above her head was a gloomy sky threatening snow, like a tottering city about to come crashing down.

“Open the gates!” She shouted frantically, rushing forward.

Her arm was suddenly grabbed. Gong Yin’s voice remained clear and calm: “Stop!”

“Gong Yin!” She turned back, her eyes completely red. “They’re framing me! Commander Cheng couldn’t possibly be dead! Someone has been harming me all along!”

“If you charge out, you’ll immediately be torn to pieces by the furious Fushui Division guards,” Gong Yin said coldly. “Commander Cheng had extremely high prestige in the Fushui Division. They will certainly seek revenge for the Commander. And even if the people from the six kingdoms and eight divisions injure you, they can immediately find ways to flee back to their home divisions. The royal court cannot wage war against any of the eight divisions across the six kingdoms. You would die completely worthlessly!”

“I can explain! If the murderer was me, why would I have saved him in the first place!” Jing Hengbo pointed forward. “If they don’t have brains, then slap them awake!”

Gong Yin gazed at her, his clear eyes reflecting a trace of blood-red shadow.

“Since they dared come to Yuzhao Palace, they naturally prepared long ago…” he said in a low voice, then drew a breath and pointed to the city walls. “Go up first, then we’ll talk.”

Jing Hengbo looked at the tightly guarded palace gates and knew Gong Yin wouldn’t let her leave at this moment. She looked up thoughtfully, then turned around and silently climbed the palace city walls.

Several storm lanterns hung from the wall tops, casting hazy halos of light. When she appeared at the battlements, the square below immediately erupted in clamoring voices.

“The Queen has come!”

“It’s her! It’s the Queen!”

“She’s the one who killed the Commander!”

Jing Hengbo gripped the ice-cold city wall, frost growing in the stone crevices, piercingly cold, though her palms burned hot. But whether cold or hot, she felt nothing at this moment.

She only saw the countless pairs of angry eyes below—soldiers and civilians, and quite a few citizens of Dige City originally from the Fushui Division. The old Commander had once saved the people’s lives, and when the Fushui Division suffered great calamity, he had traveled to Dige, persuading Dige to shelter a large batch of refugee civilians. To the Fushui Division people of Dige, he was a benefactor, a god.

Across the ten-foot palace wall, she could feel that burning anger, as if it would roll out flames several feet high to consume her.

“Commit suicide in apology! Commit suicide in apology!” The clamoring voices below rolled like waves, one after another.

Jing Hengbo closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, her voice rang out clearly: “Silence!”

Beside her, Gong Yin flicked his sleeve, and a rolling wave of energy swept down from the city peak. The front row of people suddenly felt fierce wind pressing against them, their breathing stopped, and they stepped back. Those behind were knocked into, instinctively falling silent. Layer by layer, the crowd gradually quieted like a receding tide.

“I did not kill Commander Cheng.” Jing Hengbo’s first words were straightforward. “Countless people saw me save Commander Cheng at the West Song Workshop, and I was even injured in the process. Instead of seeking that assassin, you come to Yuzhao to force a confrontation. Where is your reasoning?”

The crowd parted, and several people dressed in heavy mourning emerged, carrying a stretcher. On the stretcher was Commander Cheng’s corpse, his face visibly blackened, his body rigid.

Beside the stretcher was an elderly man who said solemnly: “This commoner is Jiang Yuebai of Dige, practicing medicine for fifty years. Most of Dige’s people know this commoner and know that throughout my life, I have never spoken false or deceptive words.”

Everyone nodded. Gong Yin said beside Jing Hengbo: “Dige’s foremost physician. Upright in character, healing the world with his medicine. He has saved countless lives and never charges poor people for treatment.”

Jing Hengbo’s heart sank.

If even Gong Yin knew this person’s reputation, his credibility was evident.

“This commoner will only speak of what I know,” Jiang Yuebai said calmly. “The Commander had a slight stab wound on his chest, but it was not life-threatening. What caused his death was…” He lifted Commander Cheng’s hand, showing the back. “This scratch mark.” He paused. “The scratch contained deadly poison. It took effect after one hour, and no medicine could cure it.”

Jing Hengbo couldn’t clearly see the wound on Commander Cheng’s hand, but knew it must be there.

She stared blankly and raised her hands, only now noticing that her fingernails still retained some skin flakes and blood traces. She remembered that when she rushed into the crowd to pull Commander Cheng away, she had indeed gripped his hand tightly. Her nails were long and hard—scratching him in her urgency was entirely possible.

Her mind was in complete chaos—how could this be?

After Jiang Yuebai finished speaking, he said nothing more and withdrew. Beside the corpse, a young man said with grief and anger: “My mother died early, and father never remarried for many years, with no close personal concubines. Apart from Your Majesty the Queen, no one else could have made this scratch!”

“If I wanted to kill Commander Cheng, I could have simply not saved him at the West Song Workshop!” Jing Hengbo said coldly. “Why go through such trouble!”

“Because you wanted to deceive everyone!” Suddenly a large group surged forward, led by someone shouting loudly: “You saved Commander Cheng in front of Dige’s people precisely to use this to escape guilt when you killed him!”

Under the lamplight, that person sat in a wheelchair, face pale—it was actually Zhao Shizhi!

Behind him was a large group of civil officials who used him as their weather vane and regarded him as their teacher!

“Bullshit! Why would I want to kill him!”

“Because Commander Cheng opposed an agreement favorable to you!” Another voice coldly interjected. “When we six kingdoms and eight divisions leaders were attacked at Dige Mountain Pass, we were forced to sign an agreement with the captors. The Fushui Division’s agreement involved transferring part of the Fushui Marshlands’ output to the Queen’s name in the future. The one who signed was the Fushui Division Vice Commander, but when Commander Cheng discovered this, he firmly disagreed. When you learned of this, you hated his obstruction, so you deliberately arranged the so-called portrait plan to lure him to pose, then arranged for assassins to attack him, while pretending to risk your life to save him, winning his trust and the people’s love. Then you secretly applied poison to your nails and killed him!”

Under the lamplight, the newcomer’s voice was clear and bright, her figure graceful and curvaceous—it was Fei Luo.

Behind her, officials from the six kingdoms and eight divisions followed quietly, all with iron-gray faces.

“I don’t know about this agreement! If I would kill someone just because one agreement couldn’t be satisfied, don’t I have a brain? Don’t I know the seriousness of this matter? Don’t I know I’d be creating trouble for myself!”

“You act willfully and recklessly—when have you ever cared about rules and morality?” Another thunderous roar accompanied the clanging friction of iron armor pieces and the neat, rapid marching steps unique to soldiers. A black horse suddenly shot out from the darkness, its rider’s voice arriving before he did, echoing across the square: “My son had no grudge against you, yet you could command a fire carriage to run him down in the Liuli Workshop marketplace in front of countless people! My Kang Long was the premier strong army, the State Preceptor’s direct force. The State Preceptor treated you unusually, yet you could ignore consequences and strike so viciously. For a Fushui Commander who obstructed your gains, how could you not dare kill, disregarding consequences? With your vicious nature and tyrannical behavior, what have you ever been reluctant to do!”

Under the lamplight, his hair and beard stood on end, his trembling finger pointing accusingly, his full head of black hair now completely white. Behind him, soldiers surged into the square like a black tide, silent and soundless, their dark blue armor plates gleaming like cold eyes in the dim yellow lamplight.

“Exactly! High Priest Sang respected and loved you, yet as soon as you entered the palace, you pointed your spear at her, destroying the High Priest’s tower for no reason to seize power, killing the High Priest’s guards, overturning the entire Sang family! Before even ascending the throne, you were already wildly ambitious, harming ministers, defeating noble families, seizing great power. What you want is not merely the Queen’s position! You want to overturn centuries of established order, overturn this stable court situation, overturn Dahuang’s iron laws and the entire realm that have stood for hundreds of years!”

“One thing was said correctly. You are indeed an envoy who came to Dahuang bearing a mission, but not God’s envoy—you’re a demon’s envoy! Your arrival is not to save Dahuang, but to subvert Dahuang!”

“Since entering the palace, you haven’t followed a single rule, haven’t learned a single ceremony, haven’t met the instructing matrons even once, and have repeatedly humiliated officials sent by our Ministry of Rites. How can such a queen peacefully maintain her position and keep Dahuang’s court situation stable? If you don’t die, we will surely witness you bringing chaos to the court and disaster to the people!” This time, the one who walked out trembling was the Minister of Rites, who had finally recovered from his illness. Behind him stood all the Ministry of Rites officials, everyone’s face flushed red with excitement—ever since welcoming Jing Hengbo, the foremost of the five ministries had fallen into the most statusless and maltreated state in history. Everyone had been holding their breath until now, and looking around at this moment, they felt their spirits soar.

“The demon woman must die!” No one knew who first roared out these words.

“The demon woman must die!”

“The demon woman must die!”

The roars came one after another, rising throughout the square in waves, like a tide rolling across all of Dige.

The sky was dark and gloomy, heavy clouds drifting, and dim starlight flickered in the far distance, shrouding the majestic statue of the founding Empress, while the Empress’s downcast eyelids coldly overlooked the vast crowd below.

Jing Hengbo could clearly see clusters of people throughout the square—soldiers, six kingdoms and eight divisions, civil officials, military generals, the Ministry of Rites, scholars—almost all the components of Dahuang’s upper structure were assembled.

Everyone except Dahuang’s most statusless common people.

Jing Hengbo laughed coldly.

What a complete gathering.

For one person to make so many people oppose her—that was quite an achievement.

At this moment, she knew explanations were useless. As Gong Yin had said, a prepared trap would naturally be seamless. This group had already united, carefully planning, waiting for precisely this day.

Regarding the agreement that day, although she had snatched one copy, she had only focused on the final line canceling the welcoming ceremony, not carefully examining all the many clauses concerning the six kingdoms and eight divisions. Since this matter later involved Gong Yin’s administrative arrangements, she had no intention of asking more and didn’t know Gong Yin had arranged for the Fushui Division to transfer output to her name.

But to claim ignorance now—who would believe it?

Moreover, there were those tangled, inextricable knots formed by unfortunate coincidences.

As long as she refused to be a puppet, as long as she wanted to be herself, as long as she struggled to survive, she was destined to forever stand on opposite sides of the Chu River and Han boundary from these people.

Dahuang’s power structure could not be shaken, the ruling class’s interests could not be violated. Those who moved against her would not tolerate her resistance. Resistance meant being restless, wildly ambitious, a nation-destroying demon woman.

What she had overturned and offended was not just Sang Dong and Zhao Shizhi, but Dahuang’s entire vested interest group.

While defending herself, she had also made them fearful—fearful enough to band together and unite against her for the first time.

The chasm had long been formed, with no room for peaceful passage.

Either she would slaughter them, or they would slaughter her.

Those cold, sharp voices became blades, stabbing toward the city walls one by one, with her at the center of ten thousand blades.

At this moment, she was no longer angry. Deep in her heart was ice-cold calm, overflowing with hatred for these sanctimonious hypocrites.

She had always known that haste makes waste, that before grasping more power, rashly struggling against interest groups would only result in her own loss. She would rather choose moderate methods acceptable to both sides, even pretending to perform miracles for this purpose, taking only the right to participate in government until now.

Yet when had these people ever spared her for a single day?

Before she even entered Dahuang’s borders, Sang Dong had tried to kill her.

When she destroyed Sang Dong in self-defense, all officials became wary of her.

Cheng Gumo’s son had died as much from her hands as from hidden conspiracies.

Zhao Shizhi was personally corrupt yet wore the mask of a great scholar, inciting ignorant civil officials and scholars to follow blindly.

Commander Cheng’s death was even more a reversal of black and white.

No, behind all these events was another figure.

A lurking figure who never showed himself, seemingly present yet absent, silent behind the crowds, watching her with eagle-like eyes, seldom striking, but when he did, hitting vital points directly, injecting poison into her heart.

She was a carriage that had charged into Dahuang’s political arena, originally planning gradual progress, slowly carving out her own path, but there was a hand pushing from behind, trying to send her crashing into a wall.

Who was it? Who was it?

“Kill the demon woman!” The calls in the square rose wave upon wave.

Jing Hengbo smiled coldly.

In this same square, she had once received countless people’s cheers for saving Dige’s citizens.

Now in this same place, she faced another group’s malice, betrayed and isolated.

Betrayed and isolated…

She turned her head slightly to look at Gong Yin, who had remained silent.

Under the dark sky, his eyes were coldly luminous, seeming unsurprised by the current situation.

“Kang Long Army!” Gong Yin suddenly spoke, his voice rolling across the square, immediately suppressing all other sounds. “Military orders haven’t arrived, camp gates shouldn’t open—who permitted you to appear here tonight!”

Everyone trembled, looking up at the palace city walls, where the man in white as snow and woman in red as fire stood side by side beneath the palace’s smoky splendor, like an immortal couple.

Everyone was shaken, remembering this man’s identity and prestige, remembering how he had risen from commoner status to soar straight up, reaching high position in just a few years, wielding great power, holding the instruments of state, looking down upon Dahuang.

Remembering the legendary tales of his persistence, hardness, and sharp, iron-blooded methods against opponents.

The square fell silent, with winter night’s cold wind howling across it.

Yet one rider boldly broke from the crowd and charged forward.

“State Preceptor!” Cheng Gumo rode alone, far ahead of the formation, looking up at the man on the city wall.

Gong Yin gripped the wall with both hands, looking down coldly. His gaze was like ice, while Cheng Gumo’s was like fire. Ice and fire clashed, seeming to spark.

“Cheng Gumo, I recall you’ve been suspended from duty and have no authority to mobilize the Kang Long Army,” Gong Yin’s voice was cold and clear. “Those who move troops without authorization—die!”

“Since I, Cheng Gumo, was the first to stand forth today, I came prepared to die,” Cheng Gumo grinned. “State Preceptor, I’m prepared to use my death to remonstrate with you—can you not turn back from your mistaken path!”

A thunderous roar shook even the storm lanterns on the wall, their light flickering uncertainly on Gong Yin’s face, making his expression unreadable.

He showed no reaction to these words.

Jing Hengbo’s heart trembled as she looked at him again, still unable to discern his expression.

“The one who should turn back is you.” Gong Yin waved his hand.

The sound of marching feet arose from all directions. The crowd in the square turned to see snow-white Yuzhao Dragon Cavalry rapidly pouring in from the square’s four gates, like a vast expanse of stern snow suddenly covering the entire square.

Jing Hengbo looked at that expanse of white, appearing as if emerging from darkness, and felt slightly relieved. Gong Yin was indeed prepared.

Though there were Kang Long troops in the field, their numbers weren’t terrifying. The Yuzhao Dragon Cavalry held absolute advantage.

The square stirred slightly, but not violently. After a brief disturbance, it quieted again, especially the group of civil officials and scholars—many laughed heartily as if achieving their wishes and simply sat down on the ground.

“The State Preceptor indeed attempts to suppress us with iron-blooded methods!” A young scholar raised his arms and shouted. “Since it’s come to this, let my blood splash the palace gates! In future histories, we will surely have our place!”

Literati loved fame, feeling another opportunity for immortal renown had arrived. If blood was shed in the square today, future history books would be stained with blood like bamboo, enough to honor ancestors and bring glory to families—they were extremely excited.

“I no longer have authority to mobilize the Kang Long Army, so those who came with me today are not the Kang Long’s regular forces,” Cheng Gumo stood at the forefront of the crowd, saying calmly. “They are my soldiers, my comrades, my close friends, my brothers who cannot bear to watch me be destroyed by the Queen and are willing to die with me for revenge.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the blue-armored soldiers behind him all stepped forward in unison.

“Kang Long Blue Battalion First Column Squad Leader Yu Shan, requesting death from the State Preceptor!”

“Kang Long Purple Battalion Seventh Column Soldier Wang Dayong, requesting death from the State Preceptor!”

“Kang Long White Battalion Main Camp Lieutenant Huang Da, requesting death from the State Preceptor!”

“Kang Long Blue Battalion Vice General Xie Lin, requesting death from the State Preceptor!”

…

Their voices were stern and fierce, their determination to die resolute.

Many in the square showed faint smiles—though few in number, there were soldiers from all seven colored battalions and three main camps of Kang Long, even including a vice general, showing both the influence of this matter and Cheng Gumo’s charisma.

“I repeat—I have no intention of tarnishing my late integrity. We have no intention of becoming Dahuang traitors. We are unwilling to betray the State Preceptor,” Cheng Gumo looked up. “We risk death today to petition at the palace gates. We only ask the State Preceptor not to be misled by feminine beauty, to clear your mind, and with the Heavenly Wisdom Sword, cut down this nation-destroying demon woman!”

“Cheng Gumo,” Gong Yin’s sleeves fluttered in the wind, his voice emotionless. “Soldiers are the sovereign’s instruments—who permitted you to hold them in reverse to threaten your lord?”

“Only the human heart can threaten the lord!” Cheng Gumo said sternly. “Today we stand here, while Kang Long’s main camp cannot enter Dige a single step under your strict orders. But all the officers and men are listening to tonight’s sounds and answers from their camp fifteen li away at Lone Mountain! If we spill our blood in the imperial square today, within moments, everyone in Kang Long’s main camp will understand that their past fervor was spilled in vain. In one day, Kang Long’s camp will spill blood in Dige!”

Gong Yin slowly raised his gaze. Ahead lay darkness and deeper clouds, yet his sight seemed to penetrate the darkness and distance to see the restless Kang Long main camp fifteen li away.

What consequences would erupt if the Kang Long Army, suppressed in place by force, encountered such stimulation?

“I, Cheng Gumo, will not use my personal prestige to force Kang Long to follow me in rebellion, destroying so many comrades’ lives. Dahuang soldiers don’t want to kill each other! So I only brought these brothers to petition before the palace. I have done all I can for you. I am worthy of you and worthy of Kang Long!” Cheng Gumo’s voice was tragic. “So, State Preceptor! If you act perversely, please imagine Kang Long’s disappointment and fury!”

Jing Hengbo gripped the city wall beneath her hands. The cold blue bricks nearly cut her palms, yet she seemed oblivious.

Cheng Gumo’s move was ruthlessly calculated.

He didn’t rebel but brought death-sworn men to petition—reasonable and justified, noble and pure. The entire Kang Long camp would surely feel wronged for him and watch the event’s development.

This differed from his angry performance at Liuli Workshop. This time he occupied the moral high ground, beyond reproach, leaving Gong Yin unable to force him into a corner in the name of national righteousness.

A vague thought flashed through her mind—his behavior had changed, suggesting a mastermind behind him…

“It’s not only Kang Long who feels disappointed and angry!” Fei Luo shouted loudly, walking to Cheng Gumo’s side and sitting down.

The Fushui Division’s subordinate people, carrying Commander Cheng’s corpse, walked forward and sat down.

The Minister of Rites, supported by ministry officials, tremblingly walked to the front and sat down.

Zhao Shizhi was wheeled forward, then with others’ help, struggled down from his wheelchair and knelt on the ground.

Different from others, he didn’t forget to perform even now, supporting himself with both hands on the ground, looking up at the palace city with a long, shrieking wail.

“State Preceptor! Zhao Shizhi is burning with worry for you! All the people under heaven hang on your single thought! Please, State Preceptor, do not err!”

His mournful cry rang out as scattered snowflakes suddenly fell from above. People looked up blankly to see starlike fragments spinning and falling from the deep black sky.

This winter’s first snow had arrived early.

“Heaven speaks—snow clears my grievances!” Zhao Shizhi raised both hands skyward, wailing loudly.

“Heaven speaks—dare you defy it?” Fei Luo shouted sharply. “Gong Yin! Will you truly defy Heaven, defy popular will, defy this entire court, loyal army, all scholars, and the six kingdoms and eight divisions for one demon woman!”

The dark mass of people in the square pressed close—the nearest petitioners had reached the robes of the Yuzhao guards protecting the palace gates. Those cold guards also showed traces of alarm in their eyes, hands trembling slightly on their sword hilts.

Voices below the palace walls rose like tide.

Gong Yin on the palace wall said nothing.

The atmosphere stretched taut as a bowstring, seeming ready to snap with sharp sound at the slightest touch.

“Report—”

Suddenly a loud shout broke through the oppressive moment. Everyone trembled, and Gong Yin on the palace wall looked up sharply toward the approaching figure.

It was a snow-white rider with white feathers in the horse’s headpiece—standard Yuzhao scout cavalry attire. The rider flashed like lightning across the square, splashing up muddy snow, while people looked up in alarm to see the tall horse bearing a rider soaked in sweat and blood!

Jing Hengbo’s heart leaped violently.

“Report—mutiny has broken out in Kang Long main camp!”

…

While the imperial square bristled with sharp confrontation, a grand mansion enjoyed pleasant conversation.

Between brocade tents and embroidered curtains, dancers performed the Rainbow Garment Dance, bare feet sinking into soft golden carpet, golden bells on snow-white ankles chiming softly—not crisp and bright, but adding an atmosphere of luxurious, seductive charm.

“Please.” Yélu Qi’s silver-black sleeves gracefully swept across the table, his slender fingers taking a golden cup in leisurely toast.

“Please.” The guest drained his cup.

They smiled at each other.

The guest’s smile showed only the lower half—he wore a silver mask, revealing only thin lips and a square chin.

“It’s snowing,” Yélu Qi suddenly looked outside. “This year’s snow comes so early.”

“It’s snowing,” the guest also turned to watch the snow. “I wonder if the snow in the imperial square is colder. Though I think State Preceptor Gong surely doesn’t have the leisure we do to discuss whether snow comes early or late.”

Yélu Qi smiled. “Perhaps he can discuss with half the court whether snow or blood is colder.”

“If such a discussion truly occurs,” the guest smiled, “I imagine State Preceptor Yélu could afterward discuss with me just how wide the Yuzhao Palace throne really is.”

Yélu Qi’s lips curved in a shallow arc, intoxicating as the swaying wine.

“It’s still too early to speak of this. Gong Yin may not lose.”

“He has a good chance of not losing,” the guest said. “He has long held great power, accumulated tremendous prestige, controls all military forces near Dige. Of all those people in the square, none dare truly target him. They only demand he execute the Queen. As long as he can harden his heart and kill Jing Hengbo, he’ll remain Dahuang’s sole power-holding Right State Preceptor.”

Yélu Qi’s hand pouring wine paused slightly, then resumed normally as he smiled. “Do you think he’ll kill her or not?”

“What do you think?” the guest asked back.

“Heroes are cold-hearted and ruthless,” Yélu Qi shrugged. “Who chooses beautiful women over territories? It’s just killing one woman—anyone should make the correct choice.”

“What if State Preceptor Yélu had to choose?”

Yélu Qi’s hand holding the cup paused again, then he smiled. “Need you ask?”

“State Preceptor Yélu’s expression seems insincere,” the guest stared at him intently.

“No need to worry about my expression—after all, I’m not the one who needs to make the choice,” Yélu Qi’s smile seemed touched with coldness.

The guest smiled slightly, returning to the earlier topic. “Gong Yin won’t kill her.”

“Oh?” Yélu Qi’s expression was rather strange.

“He’s different from others. He dislikes being threatened, dislikes betrayal, and for certain reasons, he particularly values certain emotions,” the guest said.

“Oh, such as?”

“Can’t tell you,” the guest smiled. “I can only say this Queen is different to him.”

“If so,” Yélu Qi exhaled with complex expression, “won’t he become isolated and friendless? Choose to abandon the State Preceptor position for Jing Hengbo?”

“So congratulations to State Preceptor Yélu,” the guest smiled. “After all our careful planning, haven’t we finally seen results?”

Yélu Qi held his wine cup, seemingly contemplating, but after a long moment shook his head. “No, something’s wrong.”

“Oh?”

“Given Gong Yin’s temperament and wisdom, even if forced into a corner, he might counterattack desperately. Moreover, he’s not unprepared for this situation—perhaps he’s been waiting for this day to clearly see all forces opposing him. We mustn’t celebrate too early.”

“You’re right. Gong Yin dislikes being cornered, so he’s surely prepared. But his preparation is just firmly grasping military power, giving no one opportunity to infiltrate the court, keeping Zhao Shizhi and others powerless to overturn the government. From controlling Dige and court politics, he’s still flawless—no one can touch him. The problem is, he can control all external forces but cannot single-handedly control human hearts. What truly constrains him now is the human heart.”

“Human hearts…” Yélu Qi murmured softly. “The hearts of Dahuang’s court officials…”

His face showed slight disgust, seemingly dismissive of these officials.

“Regardless of which hearts, they’re thoughts that cannot be ignored,” the guest casually played with his wine cup. “Even if he forcibly suppresses tonight’s petition, he cannot bear the consequences of scattered hearts. Of course, not wanting to lose popular support or the woman, he might have backup plans—like sending Jing Hengbo away and seeking opportunities later. Thus he keeps both popular support and his woman.”

“I think that’s the only way,” Yélu Qi clapped once.

The guest gazed at him, a knowing smile playing at his lips. “You also believe he’ll do this, certain Jing Hengbo’s life is safe. So regarding the petition demanding the Queen’s death, you’re not anxious?”

Yélu Qi set down his wine cup, looking at him with equal amusement.

The guest remained untroubled by his strange expression, meeting his gaze calmly.

“Has anyone ever told you,” Yélu Qi said slowly after a long pause, “that those who habitually speculate about others’ thoughts are actually quite foolish? Because such people often die quickly and miserably.”

“Oh? Will you kill me?” the guest blinked.

“What do you think?” Yélu Qi resumed his spring-rain-like smile.

“As long as it’s not now,” the guest smiled lightly, sipping wine. “I’m still helpful to you.”

Yélu Qi looked at him gently, as if at a close friend.

“Mm.” He nodded.

“The snow seems heavier. I should go,” the guest set down his cup and stood without waiting for invitation to stay, walking directly toward the door.

Yélu Qi didn’t rise to see him off, continuing to drink alone.

“Oh,” the guest stopped at the door, seeming to suddenly remember something, turning with a smile. “Forgot to tell you—I think your hopes might still be dashed. Because Gong Yin might still kill the Queen. Even if he doesn’t want to, I’ll make him have to kill her.” He smiled lightly, pointing to his head. “There are many things he cannot accept!”

Smiling softly, he lowered the curtain and glided through the corridor.

Yélu Qi watched his figure disappear, his unchanging smile gradually fading.

“Test Blood,” he seemed to speak to the air.

No one was in the air, but there was a clear sound from the beams.

“Go to the palace city. Act as opportunities arise.”

Wind passed lightly.

“Bone Corrosion,” he said again.

A thud came from behind the screen.

“Remove that person’s mask,” his tone grew cold.

Wind passed from behind the screen.

…

The guest walked through Yélu Mansion’s corridors, examining the plum branches on both sides with great interest. His steps were light, his gaze as gentle and pale as plum stamens.

Suddenly wind passed, plum branches swayed, and pale yellow-green plum stamens scattered in confusion, dazzling the eyes.

He seemed about to close his eyes.

Just as his eyelids were about to close, he suddenly opened them!

The moment he opened his eyes, his fingers had already swept out silently.

Like plucking strings, like lighting incense, like a beauty drawing eyebrows in a tower—gently.

One sweep deflected hands that suddenly appeared to remove his mask, sending them a zhang away!

“Whoosh.” A figure fell, blood bloomed, staining the sturdy plum branches beside.

The guest withdrew his hand, his shy smile still like half-opened plum buds.

He lightly patted his chest, brushing away broken plum petals and snowflakes, then stepped forward again, walking lightly through the corridor.

From beginning to end, he neither spoke nor glanced at the person who tried to remove his mask. As if it were merely a dream encounter—he entered the dream untouched by dust, then emerged with fluttering sleeves.

The long corridor was quietly still, snow falling soundlessly.

After a long while, a figure flashed at the corridor’s end—Yélu Qi appeared.

He walked to the corridor side, looking at his fallen subordinate in the flower bed.

The person on the ground lay silently, a thin layer of snow covering them.

Yélu Qi’s expression was as cold as the first snow.

Bone Corrosion, master of lightness skills and mysteriously unpredictable attacks, killed in one move.

That attack without worldly trace, indifferent as a dream, yet instantly deadly.

…

…

“Mutiny!”

Slight commotion arose in the square as the mounted messenger sweated profusely in such cold weather.

Jing Hengbo watched Gong Yin’s suddenly tense expression, her heart beating violently several times.

What was a mutiny? She didn’t quite understand but could guess something had gone wrong at Kang Long main camp.

“State Preceptor!” Cheng Gumo shouted. “Kang Long mutinies—will you remain unmoved? Will you watch your premier strong army collapse and fight among themselves!”

“State Preceptor,” Commander Cheng’s family prostrated themselves wailing. “Will you watch loyal, righteous generals die unjustly!”

“State Preceptor!” Zhao Shizhi wailed skyward, struggling down from his wheelchair to kneel in muddy snow. “Hesitation brings chaos! Please execute the Queen!”

“State Preceptor!” Xuanyuan Jing raised his head, beard and hair trembling. “Dige’s vermillion gates cannot tolerate a perverse ruler! Please execute the Queen!”

“State Preceptor!” Fei Luo stepped forward, red sleeves flying. “The six kingdoms and eight divisions cannot tolerate a rebellious, foolish ruler! Please execute the Queen!”

“State Preceptor!” The old Minister of Rites broke free from supporting disciples. “Dahuang’s court cannot tolerate a ruler who overturns proper order! Please execute the Queen!”

Another wave surged, seeming to echo the howls from Kang Long camp fifteen li outside the city. “Please execute the Queen!”

The overwhelming sound shook even Yuzhao Palace walls with slight trembling, the ground seeming to vibrate slightly, flying snow seeming to pause before spinning wildly down in flurries.

The gate-guarding Yuzhao soldiers retreated continuously before the pressing crowd.

Only the massive statue of the founding Empress in the square center and Gong Yin atop the city wall remained unmoved.

Officials threatening, army rebelling, six kingdoms and eight divisions participating—this unprecedented united protest by the ruling class against the Queen in Dahuang’s history failed to shock him, only making his expression frosty, colder than the night sky and lonely snow.

In such a moment, Jing Hengbo was also extraordinarily calm.

“Gong Yin,” she gripped the palace wall, gazing at the city below, asking him clearly amid the tremendous shouting, “Do you want to kill me?”