The Seventh Prince spoke sorrowfully: “Then your son can only bear the shame of being unfilial.” With a wave of his hand, hundreds of armed guards suddenly burst into the great hall. The Imperial Guard had somehow been contained by the emerging troops. The Emperor hadn’t anticipated this sudden development, but no one in the great hall dared move. The Empress Dowager remained calm, while the officials stood in silent submission.
The air was thick with killing intent as the Emperor coldly stared at the Seventh Prince before him, his body rigid beneath the imperial yellow dragon robe. Fu Yunxi had been dead barely two days, and these people were already stirring—or perhaps they had planned this long ago and finally dared to act. The Seventh Prince curved his lips: “Father, tell your son, where is the military tally?”
Deadly intent gleamed beneath his casual words.
The air seemed to freeze as everyone held their breath. The Emperor stepped backward while the Prince pressed forward—where was any trace of father-son affection now? This was the imperial family, this was father and son. No warmth, no reconciliation, only power and blade edge.
“If I say no…” the Emperor began gravely, but the Seventh Prince cut him off: “Father, then your son will have to take it himself.”
With another wave of his hand, guards from outside flooded in.
Meanwhile, at the city gates, the defending soldiers still couldn’t hold back the waves of Western Rong troops charging forward. They fought with unstoppable ferocity, completely disregarding their lives. For the first time, Da Zong’s soldiers, who had always held the upper hand on the battlefield, felt the enemy’s overwhelming strength. But the crisis wasn’t over. More and more Western Rong soldiers poured in, and the city gates were clearly about to give way, yet the Western Rong fought with increasing vigor. They seemed to know Da Zong’s battle formations beforehand, breaking through with surprising speed. Da Zong’s reinforcements were nowhere in sight, and fallen soldiers increased by the minute. The city was defended by an elderly general over sixty. This sudden Western Rong attack had prompted him to volunteer—he had been a great general who had achieved many battlefield merits, but his advanced age made such exertion difficult to bear.
He steadied himself, suddenly planting his long spear in the ground and shouting: “While the city stands, I stand!” After his cry, he charged into the enemy ranks with his spear. Seeing this, his soldiers’ eyes reddened, and they immediately charged at the enemy shouting the same words. This army had seen battle before and had faced the Western Rong, but never had they encountered such a dire situation. If only Xuanqing Prince and General Cheng were here—those two were demons of war, their mere presence would instantly boost the soldiers’ morale infinitely. Enemies would tremble at the sight of them, but now Xuanqing Prince had died from illness, and General Cheng had disappeared. The remaining young generals in court lacked experience, while the rest were cowards. Facing the confident Western Rong soldiers, they had little chance of victory—heaven must want Da Zong’s destruction!
The brief charge brought little hope to Da Zong’s soldiers. In an instant, the air filled with flashing blades and swords, soldiers’ wails, spurting blood, screams, and shouts. Despair and survival, blood dyed the sunset red, and Da Zong’s city gates finally cracked under the Western Rong’s repeated assaults.
The city… had fallen!
Even among thousands of troops, the Western Rong’s eyes immediately lit up with joy as they rushed toward the city gates. Once inside the capital, they could do as they pleased—these executioners would slaughter the capital’s citizens, steal their treasures, capture their wives and daughters, and occupy this land! They would mercilessly treat the Da Zong people as their slaves!
Yet at this moment, a clear military horn suddenly sounded from afar, accompanied by rolling drums. The Western Rong soldiers turned as one to see countless thundering hoofbeats approaching like the wind. At the front, on a tall warhorse, rode a figure in silver armor holding a long sword—it was Cheng Lei, who had been missing for days.
Without saying more, the mere sight of Cheng Lei made some of the Western Rong vanguard soldiers falter. Cheng Lei unhesitatingly pointed his sword forward and roared: “Men, kill these bandits, charge!”
Horse hooves kicked up rolling dust clouds. This army was incredibly fierce, moving in perfect unison with high morale, leaving the just-victorious Western Rong soldiers stunned as the cavalry broke through their ranks. Once an army’s formation breaks, it becomes much easier to attack. In less than the time it takes to burn an incense stick, the previously arrogant Western Rong soldiers suddenly scattered like sand, fleeing in disarray.
Cheers erupted along the city walls as the soldiers rejoiced beyond measure. Cheng Lei stood atop the city gate, laughing heartily at his glory—nothing makes a general happier than winning a battle. This fight had been extremely satisfying, and Cheng Lei himself was delighted. After holding back for so long, he finally got to fight properly. He wondered how things were going with Cloud Xi.
Meanwhile, in the Hall of Supreme Harmony.
Countless armed guards pointed their blades at the Emperor, the gleaming edges painfully bright as the Emperor’s face turned ashen. The Empress Dowager unhurriedly patted the Emperor’s back, as if helping him calm down: “Your Majesty needn’t be hasty. I think you should give the military tally to the Seventh Prince. This empire is still Da Zong’s empire, it cannot be taken by the Western Rong. If you delay giving the tally to the Seventh Prince and the Western Rong breach the city, all will be lost.”
It was merely a power grab, why speak so righteously? The Emperor gave a cold laugh: “Da Zong’s empire? I fear that once the military tally is given to Seventh Brother, this empire will truly fall to the Western Rong.”
At these words, the Empress Dowager’s expression flickered slightly, though the change was minute. She quickly returned to normal, smiling faintly: “Your Majesty jests. But Your Majesty’s tight hold on the military tally hardly befits a wise ruler. The Seventh Prince is your flesh and blood—what is there to distrust?” Things had progressed to this point, and the Empress Dowager was completely confident.
Whether the Emperor agreed no longer mattered—the Western Rong had entered the capital, the Imperial Guard was controlled, and their people surrounded the Hall of Supreme Harmony. The coup was imminent.
She had waited over a decade for this day, and now that Fu Yunxi was dead, she had nothing left to worry about. Everything was proceeding smoothly—once the Seventh Prince took power if he obeyed, she would let him be a puppet emperor; if he didn’t obey, he wouldn’t even be that. The Seventh Prince wasn’t her grandson after all, and even if he were, she would eliminate without mercy anyone who opposed her.
The Emperor just stared at the flying dragon on the hem of the Seventh Prince’s robe. This was his son, and though the imperial family was known for its ruthlessness when father and son turned against each other in his situation, it was still hard to accept. Whether as a subject’s disloyalty to his sovereign or a son’s betrayal of his father, the Seventh Prince’s actions had deeply wounded the Emperor’s heart.
How could he hand over military power? Once given away, he would truly have no path left, and the ruthless Seventh Prince would show no mercy to the Crown Prince either. The Empress Dowager’s repeated claims that he wasn’t a wise ruler, that he even suspected his flesh and blood—wasn’t this just seeking a perfect excuse? In history, those who succeeded in forcing the emperor’s abdication and taking the throne first had to erase all their blemishes, ensuring no major faults would be recorded in the historical records.