The early spring night still held a lingering chill. A gentle breeze brushed against Li Jing's cheeks, ruffling his garments and cooling his skin. He stood motionless, staring at Li Ce across the darkness, and for a moment, the man before him seemed like a stranger. Not long ago, Li Ce had been seated across from him, playing chess and chatting idly. And yet, in the blink of an eye, his expression had turned cold, wearing the stern look of one about to administer discipline. That expression bore an uncanny resemblance to someone from the grand Daming Palace.
Li Jing couldn't fathom what had changed so suddenly, but Li Ce's obstruction meant he was aware of something—and wanted it avoided.
"I won't trouble you further," Li Jing said, his tone no longer warm, but grave. "I wish to borrow the command token of the Prince of Chu."
This was the first time he addressed Li Ce by his title. With the token in hand, one could pass freely in and out of the Daming Palace. Even if the palace gates were sealed, the imperial guards would respectfully open them. As a precaution, however, a commander-level officer would accompany the bearer.
Li Jing could not stand idle while his mother and brother were in peril.
"The command token may not be lent," Li Ce refused firmly. "The Empress Dowager and Prince Jin will come to no harm. Your presence would only complicate matters."
"How can you be certain?" Li Jing asked anxiously. "What if someone has deceived His Majesty? What if my mother and second brother are wrongly accused? Don't you remember—when he was a child, someone once framed my brother, and Father nearly executed him!"
"And what would you accomplish by going?" Li Ce countered. "You know nothing. All you could do is kneel and plead, enraging the Emperor further."
Li Jing fell silent. It felt as if everyone else stood in the clarity of daylight, stirring the winds of change, while he alone was trapped in the night, blind to everything.
Li Ce remained beside him, saying nothing, yet somehow conveying much. He took no action, yet it was clear—if Li Jing insisted on entering the palace, he would be stopped.
After a long silence, Li Jing's tense shoulders gradually relaxed. He sighed and said softly, "Xiao Jiu, tell me—what is truly happening?"
Li Ce must know. That chess game earlier had been a ruse to delay him, hadn't it?
They walked back into the courtyard. The attendants closed the gate behind them. Li Ce led the way, and Li Jing followed. Once indoors, Li Jing's stomach growled audibly. He rubbed it and said, "We've been playing chess all afternoon. I'll have the kitchen prepare something—we can eat while we talk."
Li Ce, now wary, replied, "You sit first, Fifth Brother. I'll go."
He only needed to step outside to summon the attendant at the courtyard gate, Qingfeng. But just as he reached the door, a sudden crack came from the rear window—it sounded like a pole falling.
Li Ce turned and dashed outside. In the garden, under the glow of the lanterns, a figure leapt into the newly planted flowerbed, scaled the decorative fence, and clambered up the wall.
It was the spot Ye Jiao used to climb frequently. Last winter, however, they had planted peonies and erected a fence around the wall.
"Fifth Brother, come down!" Li Ce called out urgently.
Perched on the wall, Li Jing shook his head. "I know you mean well. But I am no coward who hides in his shell."
Without waiting for a response, he turned and leapt down.
There was a loud thump outside, followed by a furious shout: "Who the hell took a shit here?!"
"Stop Prince Zhao!" Li Ce exclaimed, rushing forward. After a moment's hesitation, he climbed the wall as well.
But Prince Zhao, Li Jing, was already gone.
No—that wasn't true. Li Ce knew exactly where he had gone.
The Daming Palace.That forbidden palace, where unauthorized intrusion was tantamount to treason.
Today, the Emperor had summoned the Empress and Prince Jin, dispatched the imperial guards to seize Consort Yan from Prince Jin's manor. In a single day, the truth had been laid bare.
It was not complicated.
They had retrieved the guards' registry. Following the testimony of Consort Shun, they searched for a soldier named Tian who had palace access eight years ago—and found only one: Tian Yingyu.
Once a palace guard, Tian Yingyu had been placed under Yan Jide's command, collecting information on officials and secrets within the palace. Eventually, he was found strangled in a private residence. To prevent an uproar, the Emperor had instructed Liu Yan of the Jingzhao Prefecture to classify it as a suicide out of guilt.
That event had sown the first seeds of the Emperor's suspicion toward Yan Jide. He was soon sent to lead military drills outside the city. Not long after, Yan Jide falsely accused Li Ce of treason, nearly burying him and countless refugees alive in a mountain cave.
Now that Tian Yingyu had been identified, the rest became clear. The night Consort Shun lost her mind, Yan Jide had been credited with putting out a fire in the palace and was promoted to commander of the imperial guard.
Thus, it was Tian Yingyu, acting under Yan Jide's orders, who had terrified Consort Shun into madness.
Next, they arrested all subordinates under Yan Jide's command that night. Most were unaware, but one informed witness was enough.
The Emperor had not summoned the Three Judicial Offices to interrogate the suspects, nor had he tortured Yan Jixue. He hadn't even questioned her. He merely made her observe.
She watched, with her own eyes, as the implicated guards were executed on the spot. Prince Jin and the Empress sat beside the Emperor, their faces grave.
Even from behind a silk screen, to witness this trial was nothing short of a warning.
Yan Jixue listened with dread until the end. Though the guards pointed to her father, they dared not implicate the Empress or Prince Jin. Her soul was shattered, her limbs weak, and fear gripped her every breath. Yet she remained kneeling, composed, awaiting her judgment.
An attendant wiped away the blood on the floor of the Purple Radiance Hall. The executed guards were dragged away. Gao Fu opened the windows, letting out the stench of blood.
Only then did the Emperor speak.
"Convey Our decree," he said, voice devoid of emotion—and that lack of emotion made it all the more terrifying. "The Yan clan—those above the age of fourteen shall receive eighty lashes and five years of penal servitude. Yan Jide—granted death."
Gao Fu obeyed at once.
Yan Jixue collapsed, unable to remain upright.
The lash was a bamboo rod that flayed the back. Eighty strokes would kill most of the older members on the spot. Even those who survived would be condemned to humiliation and torment on the borders—survival unlikely.
The Emperor wished the Yan clan a fate worse than death.
As for Yan Jixue's father—his was truly a granted death. Quick and clean. Far better than lingering in misery.
Yan Jixue kowtowed heavily, voice trembling: "Your Majesty's grace is boundless."
Would the guards now come to take her away?
She was a Yan. She would receive eighty lashes.
Yan Jixue prayed for death—never to wake again.
But before the guards moved, someone slowly rose and knelt before the Emperor.
"Father," he said solemnly, "your son begs for mercy on behalf of Consort Yan."
Yan Jixue looked up, stunned. Had she misheard?
Prince Jin—Li Zhang—was pleading for her?
A screen divided them, and the distance was great. Was this merely a hallucination?
Impossible.
Her husband, outwardly gentle and elegant, was in truth cold and domineering. In his eyes, nothing mattered more than power. Her life was as worthless as grass.
Even the Emperor seemed surprised."What did you say?"
The Empress immediately rose from her seat and rebuked Li Zhang: "Such nonsense! Is a traitor's daughter worth your plea?"
From behind the fine silk screen, Yan Jixue watched the upright figure kneeling. Tears streamed down her face.
More than anger, the Emperor appeared shocked.
His hesitation in naming a crown prince had stemmed from doubts—Li Zhang was clever, yes, but lacked compassion. That was why, over something as trivial as a shipment of wool, he had abandoned the succession plan.
Summoning Yan Jixue had been a warning—a test. She was meant to be discarded at any moment. Li Zhang was expected to distance himself from her. Yet here he was, kneeling to plead?
The Emperor's expression shifted subtly."What is your reason?" he asked.
There was no fear on Li Zhang's face—only humility and sincerity.
He replied earnestly, "As the saying goes, 'One day as husband and wife, a hundred days of grace.' Though Consort Yan is not my official wife, she has served me with devotion for nearly a year and has committed no fault. When her father committed his crimes eight years ago, she was but thirteen. Though the Yan clan must face justice, I…"