The moment the Emperor began coughing, Ye Jiao rose to her feet in alarm. Anxiety surged in her heart, yet she dared not approach. She stepped forward, stopping only when her body pressed against the edge of the screen. Upon hearing the Emperor mention blood, she gasped in horror.
"Your Majesty!"
The coughing within the hall persisted, the sufferer struggling to suppress the churning blood within. Only after a long while did the fit subside, and the chamber grew quiet. The Emperor's voice, frail and raspy as if leaking from a threadbare pouch, broke the silence.
"Is Ye Jiao from the Ministry of War here?" he mumbled. "Then even the Ministry of War admits... someone aided the Crown Prince in concealing weapons?"
No one in the hall answered. Had the Ministry of War confessed, Song Shoujie wouldn't have fainted.
"Ye Jiao," the Emperor called again, ignoring the others.
Ye Jiao hastily knelt. "Please, Your Majesty, quell your anger. I beg you to preserve your health." Her voice trembled with emotion, revealing her deep sorrow.
The Emperor gave a soft grunt. "Tell me—what is the penalty for hiding weapons?"
Though spoken quietly, his words echoed powerfully throughout the grand hall.
The Minister of Justice stood just behind the screen, yet he could not fathom why the Emperor posed such a question to Ye Jiao.
After a brief hesitation, Ye Jiao replied clearly, "According to the sixteenth volume of the Tang Code, the unauthorized possession of five bows or three suits of armor warrants execution by strangulation."
"Indeed," said the Emperor. "Strangulation. So the Grand Council, the Ministry of Justice, and the Ministry of War... intend to conspire and strangle my legitimate heir?"
This accusation crashed down like thunder, laced with divine fury, shaking the court. Several ministers dropped to their knees with a thud, exclaiming in terror that they dared not.
Yet the Emperor leveled no further blame—for his body suddenly collapsed backward. His teeth clenched, lips shut tight, and just like that, he fell unconscious.
The hall descended into chaos. Gao Fu rushed out, ordering attendants to summon the Empress, imperial kinsmen, and senior ministers to tend to the Emperor.
Ye Jiao clutched Gao Fu's sleeve, her face pale, tears welling in her eyes. "How is His Majesty? Tell me!"
"This old servant..." Gao Fu gripped her sleeve in return, tears streaming as he ground out the words, "This old servant does not know."
While eunuchs and palace maids scurried about in panic and physicians rushed to and fro, Gao Fu discreetly squeezed something within Ye Jiao's sleeve—a token of solid, frigid gold.
His eyes brimmed with unspoken words, his lips trembling, face ashen. Yet in the end, he said nothing.
In a single day, the tides of power shifted wildly. The Ministry of Justice confirmed the Crown Prince's illicit possession of bows and crossbows. Enraged, the Emperor collapsed and fell into a coma. With the Crown Prince under house arrest in the Eastern Palace by imperial decree, authority over the court fell squarely into the hands of Prince Wei, Li Chen.
Panic gripped the capital.
A singular question echoed in the minds of many:
If the Emperor perishes, who shall inherit the throne?
The Crown Prince? He was guilty of a grave crime—hoarding forbidden weapons. If the Emperor hadn't collapsed, the Crown Prince would either be deposed or executed by now.
Then there was another legitimate son, born of the Empress—Fifth Prince, Prince Zhao, Li Jing? That too seemed unlikely. Li Jing had vanished like a timid tortoise, not seen in days. Rumors claimed he was naturally dull and barely literate.
What of Third Prince, Li Lian, by seniority? He was still guarding the imperial tombs. Despite the turmoil in the capital, he had not returned.
Thus, only Prince Wei, Li Chen, remained. He was filial and upright, once obscure but now entrusted with governing the realm, performing admirably.
But—would the other princes accept this?
Many officials still supported the Crown Prince. And there was Prince Chu, Li Ce, currently investigating a case in Jinzhou as a regent prince. Would he return to stake a claim?
"Is the Ministry of War now competing with the Ministry of Justice over prisoners?"
On the court floor, Wang Chenming, Minister of Justice, rebuked indignantly, his crimson sleeves trembling like ripples on water in his fury.
Faced with his accusations, Ye Jiao longed to disappear. But this was the main hall—too many eyes watched her. She could only stand upright, unmoving, her rigid posture silently expressing her stance.
Because she had been present when the Emperor fainted, Li Chen summoned her to court. Ye Jiao understood—this was to make her the scapegoat.
But she did not shy away. She came. And when officials began to question the Ministry of Justice's conclusions, she spoke.
The lowest-ranking among them, she raised her tablet and dared to say what others wouldn't:
"According to my investigation, Wang Botang, a captain of the Northwestern Tiger Guards, was demoted twice by the Crown Prince for poor performance in battle against Tibet. Would someone like that be entrusted as a confidant to secretly move weaponry for His Highness?"
"What are you implying, Langzhong Ye?" Li Chen, seated beside the imperial throne, remained composed.
But Wang Chenming almost leapt to his feet.
"My meaning," Ye Jiao said, "is that while the Ministry of Justice conducts its inquiry, the Ministry of War should be allowed to do the same. Hand over Wang Botang so we may question him and submit our findings to the record."
Never before had the Ministry of War interrogated a prisoner. Thus, Wang Chenming accused her of trying to seize jurisdiction.
His eyes brimmed with scorn. A mere fifth-rank official dared challenge the Ministry of Justice?
"It is a seizure!"
Amid the clamor, a voice rang out—like a bronze gong struck in a marketplace: coarse, but unmistakably clear.
"Lord Wang," said Deputy Minister Jiang Min, bowing slightly, his gaze steady upon Wang Chenming. "I finally understand what case you're investigating."
"The bow and crossbow case," Wang Chenming replied icily.
Jiang Min shook his head slowly, then lifted his chin, declaring, "What you're investigating is a travesty. You've slandered the Crown Prince and driven His Majesty into illness. Such treachery cries out to Heaven for justice!"
"Impudence!" Wang Chenming nearly stuttered in rage, pointing a trembling finger at him. "You—you—"
"Am I wrong?" Jiang Min retorted. "Is it senility or stupidity, I wonder? Regardless, the Ministry of War will not acknowledge a trial conducted like this. Our Minister has already collapsed in fury. Langzhong Ye and I remain standing. If you dare not turn Wang Botang over, you are abusing your authority and perverting the law. The Ministry of Justice, the Censorate, and the Ministry of Punishments alike—are all riddled with ulterior motives!"
"What ulterior motives does my ministry harbor?" Wang Chenming finally found breath to shout.
Jiang Min, once sharp-tongued, now grew calm. He spoke slowly, yet with unwavering conviction:
"My humble guess... is treason."
That single word—treason—splashed into the court like water into boiling oil.
The officials erupted in outrage. Shouting, denying, pointing fingers. Arguments dissolved into chaos, and soon scrolls and tablets flew through the air. The stately, solemn court resembled a marketplace in uproar.
Yet Jiang Min stood unshaken. No matter the accusation, he deflected with theatrical precision. When objects were thrown, he merely sidestepped, letting others nearby take the hit.
Ye Jiao quietly gave him a thumbs-up. Indeed, when it came to verbal battles, none rivaled Jiang Min.
It was Prince Wei, Li Chen, seated behind the imperial desk, who ended the chaos. He slammed a memorial on the table with a thunderous crack.
"The Crown Prince's case shall be judged by the Emperor's final decree. Until then, the Ministry of War may question here in court. Let the Ministry of Justice explain its investigation before all. Prepare yourselves. Tomorrow, at this very hour, the Hall of Purple Radiance shall host a public trial!"
Li Chen appeared impartial and forthright.
Gradually, the court settled. Ye Jiao glanced around and noticed the senior ministers and the Chancellor were all absent.
Perhaps they were attending to the Emperor.
She wondered—was His Majesty aware of the chaos here? His final words echoed in her mind, haunting her still:
"So the Grand Council, the Ministry of Justice, and the Ministry of War conspire to strangle my legitimate heir?"
No.
Ye Jiao's gaze turned resolute. She clenched her fists, pressing her arm tightly to the sleeve concealing the golden token.
If only…