Chapter 107: The Prince Temporarily Assumes the Throne

Chapter 107 The Prince Temporarily Assumes Governance

Flames soared into the sky as torches flickered violently in the scorching wind. The clatter of armor and chaotic footsteps surrounded the princely residence layer by layer.

The old steward trembled as he rushed over, too panicked to even bow. "Your Highness," he gasped, "the estate is surrounded by imperial troops! They claim you plotted rebellion and are here to arrest you!"

"Why panic?"

Lu Feng remained unshaken, his voice steady. "This prince was officially titled by His Majesty himself. Without an imperial decree bearing the jade seal, who dares lay hands on me?"

"I’d like to see exactly what kind of scheming villains lurk outside!"

Servants and maids fled in disarray, yet Lu Feng strode straight toward the main gate without even carrying a blade. The guards barricading the entrance stood stiffly, their faces pale, their cold blades trembling under the torchlight. A soldier clad in gleaming armor stepped forward and clasped his fists. "Your Highness, they outnumber us. I fear... we cannot hold for long."

Lu Feng waved a hand. "Open the gates."

The crowd froze, but Lu Feng’s authority among his guards was absolute. Even now, they instinctively obeyed. The vermilion gates slowly creaked open, revealing a sea of torches and a dense throng of soldiers encircling the estate. Prince Ying, Prince Xian, and Prince Jing sat high atop their steeds, visibly startled to see Lu Feng emerge so boldly.

Prince Ying declared, "Prince Qi, you concealed the tiger tally, harbored treasonous intent, and your ambition to usurp the throne is plain as day! By His Majesty’s decree, we lead the army to arrest you and uphold the law! If you know what’s good for you, surrender now. Out of brotherly mercy, we’ll grant you a clean death."

"Oh?"

Lu Feng raised a brow, scanning them one by one. "If memory serves, Fifth Brother, you serve in the Ministry of Rites. Eighth Brother is fond of poetry and spends his days chronicling histories in the Hanlin Academy. And you—Prince Jing, it’s been a while. How fares your work in the Ministry of Works?"

"By our dynasty’s laws, crimes must first be tried by the Dali Temple, reviewed by the Ministry of Justice, and reported to His Majesty before sentencing. I am a prince appointed by His Majesty. To demand my life without the Three Judicial Offices or even an audience with our father—how laughable."

Lu Feng’s words struck their sore spots with precision. The emperor withheld power, leaving these princes—along with the youngest, Prince Min—stranded in ceremonial posts like the Hanlin Academy, the Ministry of Rites, or the Ministry of Works. Crucial positions like the Ministry of Personnel or Justice were reserved for loyalists like Pei Zhang, who rose from the provinces with no backing.

At first, it was bearable—none could mock the other. But then the "Prince Qi" appeared. Before his royal recognition, he was the formidable Commander of the Forbidden Dragon Bureau, unimpressed even by imperial heirs. Once enfeoffed, not only was he granted the highest princely rank, but also the lucrative Ministry of Revenue portfolio. The emperor’s blatant favoritism bred resentment.

Then came the Turkic war. Lu Feng took command, and when the princes tried to meddle in supplies, the emperor rebuked them outright. With each victory, Lu Feng’s public prestige grew, bolstered by imperial support. Panic set in: Would their father truly let this cripple inherit?

The princes conspired: unless Lu Feng was removed, none could sleep soundly. Even if he never took the throne, no future ruler would tolerate a prince with towering military feats and ties to border generals.

Lu Feng became their shared enemy. Public condemnation grew, and the princes themselves penned manifestos accusing him of cruelty and slaughter of innocents. Yet it was futile—until Lu Feng angered the emperor, handing them the perfect weapon.

...

Lu Feng’s disdain darkened their faces. Prince Ying sneered, dropping all pretense. "Still defiant with death at your doorstep! Lu Feng, your crime is treason—punishable by immediate execution!"

Lu Feng replied coolly, "Who says I plotted treason? Where’s the proof?"

Prince Jing gripped his reins, looking down. "Your servants uncovered the hidden tiger tally. With witnesses and evidence, you cannot deny it."

"This is also His Majesty’s order, Elder Brother. It’s not that we brothers cannot tolerate you—it’s that our father cannot!"

"Kill him! Ten thousand taels of gold to whoever brings me the Prince of Qi’s head!"

The emperor's favor was a double-edged sword. Prince Gong had once resented Lu Feng over the Youzhou Army, crippling his leg. Now, they would not spare even his life, ensuring he died in despair.

But Lu Feng was no longer the same man. As the swarm of soldiers surged, rows of shadowy figures emerged from the rooftops, their eyes sharp with lethal focus. In an instant, a storm of arrows rained down upon the besiegers, their shafts slicing through the air.

Retainers shielded the princes from stray arrows. Unharmed but livid, the typically composed Prince Xian shouted, "Lu Feng, you dare defy the imperial decree!"

Lu Feng lifted his gaze. "Perhaps the decree was forged."

Prince Xian stiffened, then yanked a blade from a guard’s waist. "Ignore me—kill him! He must die!"

His panic betrayed him—this was no imperial order. They could not fathom their father’s bias. Old grievances, public outrage, even Lu Feng’s hidden tiger tally—the emperor turned a blind eye to it all, unwilling to see him suffer even a day longer.

"Is Lu Feng his only real son?!"

The scout returned from the border to the capital, confirming that the military tally was not in Ling Xiao's possession. Since that was the case, they might as well go all out—cut first, explain later! Once Lu Feng was dead, they could dig three feet deep into the Prince of Qi’s residence to find the tiger-shaped command token. By then, what the emperor would hear would be: The Prince of Qi, guilty and fearful, fled north with the military tally, intending to lead troops back to the capital to seize the throne, but was cut down by his own brothers.

After all, the Prince of Qi’s concealment of the military tally was real. Even if the emperor harbored doubts, the three of them, plus Prince Min, young and timid, who did not join this venture personally—four adult princes—could surely outweigh a dead man?

They had brought their own princely guards. The capital imposed restrictions on the number of guards each prince could maintain, so the four of them had only managed to gather six hundred men. But Lu Feng’s men were all elite from the Forbidden Dragon Bureau, each a match for ten, fierce and unrivaled, and they held the terrain advantage. The Virtuous Prince grew uneasy and shouted, "Stand down, and your past offenses will be forgiven, for you were merely misled by the rebel prince."

"What a coincidence."

Lu Feng let out a reckless laugh, the wind tossing his robes and jet-black hair. "I, too, am waiting for the Imperial Guards."

...

The Prince of Qi’s residence was ablaze, the sounds of battle ringing out. Ever since the truce with the Turks, Lu Feng had not felt such exhilaration. He casually grabbed a longsword from a guard, itching for a fight, but the hilt clashed against the prayer beads around his wrist, producing a dull thud.

Lu Feng glanced disdainfully at the beads. He wasn’t used to wearing such things. The beads were utterly unremarkable—likely some monks had conned her out of donations. And yet, she treasured them as if they were priceless.

Though he thought so, Lu Feng stood still for a long while before finally tossing the sword to the ground with a clang and signaling to the hidden archers.

Tch. Women—always trouble.

***

As dawn broke over the horizon, in a desolate courtyard on the outskirts of the capital, Jiang Wanrou held her sleeping youngest daughter, while Huai Yi nestled close to her. Aunt Li cradled Huai Ling in one arm, peeking nervously out the window. Chang'an, the physician, kept his thumb pressed against the hilt of his knife, eyes and ears alert to every movement.

None of them had slept all night.

"Auntie, you should rest," Jiang Wanrou whispered. Chang'an couldn’t sleep, Huai Yi refused to sleep, and Aunt Li, despite her age, had to endure this hardship with them.

Aunt Li turned back with a sigh. "My heart is uneasy. I don’t know how His Highness is faring... Ah."

It wasn’t just Aunt Li who was worried. Jiang Wanrou’s eyes were shadowed with exhaustion as well. Her daughter slept peacefully in her arms, her delicate features resembling Lu Feng’s—less soft and feminine, more spirited and bold.

Huai Ling had a straight, prominent nose, while Huai Yi’s thin lips, pressed tightly together, were the mirror image of Lu Feng. With three children who bore his likeness, how could she ever forget him?

In the past, when she was still struggling to find her footing in the Lu household, she’d once thought of demanding Lu Feng divorce her—just to end it all. She had land and silver; she could establish her own household and live freer than as some man’s wife. But as time passed, her stash of silver grew fatter, yet she found herself unable to leave him.

There was no man in this world who treated her better than he did.

Jiang Wanrou’s thoughts raced—one moment wondering if Lu Feng would win, the next recalling his instructions from last night: Go north, find Ling Xiao, find Liu Yuenu.

Back in Wujin City, he had pushed hard for Liu Yuenu’s rise to power. Had he been planning for this day even then? Had he already begun laying the groundwork? If he truly lost, rather than hiding in Great Qi, it would be better to seek refuge with Liu Yuenu, who had now become the Khan of the Turkic Khanate.

If he was as powerful as they said, surely he could turn calamity into fortune this time. She had given him the prayer beads—the Buddha would protect him.

Dawn broke. Where was he?

...

Jiang Wanrou’s thoughts raced. In the heavy silence, Lu Huaiyi stood up, opened a bundle on the table, and took out a piece of flatbread.

He handed one to Aunt Li, then another to Jiang Wanrou. "Mother, eat."

Jiang Wanrou smiled bitterly. "Good child, you eat. I’m not hungry."

They had prepared dry rations in advance—emergency provisions, stale buns and dry flatbread—barely enough to survive on. And in the summer heat, storing too much would risk spoilage. This abandoned courtyard couldn’t have a fire lit, lest the smoke draw suspicion. All they had were stale buns and dry flatbread—barely enough to survive on.

There was only enough for three days. If they heard nothing by then, it would mean the game was over, and the capital would no longer be safe. It would be time to flee the capital.

Lu Huaiyi stubbornly extended his hand, "If Mother won’t eat, neither will her son."

From their hurried journey, the hem of his brocade robe had gotten stained in several places. Yet, with his handsome features, delicate, refined brows, and a tall, slender frame, he still carried himself like nobility even in such humble surroundings.

Lu Huaiyi said, "Mother, don’t worry. Father is wise and mighty, favored by fortune—he’ll be fine."

"Even if the worst should come... with your son here, I will surely serve Mother and Grandmother for all their years. In time, I will do everything in my power to avenge Father!"

Jiang Wanrou: "..."

She patted his head and, uncharacteristically for her doting nature, chided him lightly, "Don’t say such ominous things."

Though her eldest son's filial piety was commendable, Jiang Wanrou truly didn't need such devotion at this moment. As mother and son argued over a single flatbread, the sound of steady, rhythmic footsteps echoed from outside, making their hearts race.

"Is it him?"

Jiang Wanrou's eyes brightened as she hurriedly peered out the window. Chang'an swiftly drew his blade, cautioning, "Stay back!"

To ensure secrecy, Lu Feng had left no witnesses—not even the craftsmen. Only he and Chang'an knew of this place. Entrusted with the lives of his master's wife and children, Chang'an could never be too careful. He raised his hand, curling his thumb and forefinger, and blew a sound like a cicada’s chirp.

The footsteps outside paused, but there was no response.

Chang'an's heart sank as he tightened his grip on the hilt. Then, a deep, gruff voice called from outside, "Officer Chang’an, it's Huo Fei'ang. His Highness sent me to fetch Princess Consort and the young master."

"Here’s the token. Please open the door."

Chang'an cautiously opened the door. The place was rigged with traps—one wrong step meant death by arrows. Huo Fei'ang stood at the threshold, unmoving, clearly aware of the mechanisms. Behind him, someone presented a box, opened in front of Chang'an to reveal a string of sandalwood prayer beads.

"You may look, but don’t touch."

Huo Fei'ang instructed, "This is His Highness's token for the Princess Consort. No one else is to touch it."

Chang'an took it skeptically. According to his arrangement with Lu Feng, the prince had said, "The signal will be my whistle. I will come for you myself."

Yet here was Huo Fei'ang instead. Though he knew the man served the prince, Chang'an remained uneasy. Had something happened?

Inside, Jiang Wanrou almost burst into tears at the sight of the beads, exclaiming, "Yes, that's it! It's Lu Feng—it's him!"

Chang'an frowned. "Princess Consort, look carefully. This looks ordinary—what if someone else got hold of it?"

Then, Huo Fei'ang's voice came again, "His Highness has a message for the Princess Consort. Forgive me."

Clearing his throat, he relayed, "Tell her: 'Over my dead body—keep dreaming!'"

Jiang Wanrou understood at once. Before entering the secret passage, she had joked about not mourning Lu Feng. That petty man—she’d only been joking! Was it worth remembering now?

She was torn between excitement and exasperation. Taking deep breaths, she told Chang'an, "It's him. Let's go with them."

Chang'an was puzzled, but his orders were clear: protect the Princess Consort. If anything changed, she was now his master. In Lu Feng's service, obedience came first.

Disabling the traps, Chang'an led them out to a line of black-armored soldiers standing guard. Jiang Wanrou boarded the carriage amid the escort, followed by the children and Aunt Li. As the wheels rolled forward, her heart swelled with words waiting to be spoken to Lu Feng.

Brimming with nervous excitement, nearly an hour passed, yet they hadn't arrived. Was the passage this long? Jiang Wanrou frowned as she peered outside. "Officer Huo, this isn't the way back to the palace."

Huo Fei'ang rode closer and bowed. "Princess Consort, the Prince of Qi's residence was in chaos yesterday, with heavy casualties. It’s no place to stay now. His Highness awaits you in the palace."

Jiang Wanrou was stunned. So soon?

Huo Fei'ang continued, "Last night, the Dowager Duchess of the Duke's residence attempted to assassinate His Majesty, who now lies unconscious. His Highness is temporarily overseeing court affairs and attending to the Emperor in the palace."