Chapter 5 I’d Like to Borrow the Imperial Uncle’s Head

Chapter 5: May I Borrow the Imperial Uncle’s Head?

"In matters of life and death, whether you believe it or not, the threat must be neutralized."

Tuoba Gui waved his hand, his eyes revealing an unwavering resolve.

The attendants dared not hesitate, almost running as they hurried to summon the princes.

This King of Northern Wei had ruled for a decade with ruthless campaigns, his authority unchallenged. The shadow of oppression once cast by Later Yan had long been erased from Northern Wei’s history.

Without a doubt, once the remnants of Murong Bao’s forces were crushed, Tuoba Gui would have the chance to ascend from king to emperor.

Bringing his sons before him—let alone the threat of execution—was trivial compared to his past ruthlessness.

Had he not once sent his own younger brother as an envoy, only for him to be detained by the enemy? The Queen Dowager, distraught over her son’s fate, succumbed to grief and died—effectively making Tuoba Gui complicit in his mother’s death. Yet no one dared whisper a word against him.

Cui Hong, a defector who remained in Northern Wei only to help establish its legal and administrative systems, had even less reason to object.

The two consorts and their sons were swiftly brought before the king.

Five-year-old Tuoba Si was led by his mother, while beside them walked a noblewoman in lavish attire, her stride lively, her face bright—this was Lady Liu, who oversaw the palace administration.

Before Tuoba Gui could speak, she boldly stepped forward. "You can’t possibly believe the words of this celestial screen? Though A-Si is young, he’s clearly devoted. Like my brother, he will only fight for you in the east and south—how could he ever act against you?"

Tuoba Gui, keen-eyed as always, noticed the tension in Lady Liu’s grip on Tuoba Si’s hand, clenched tighter than usual.

Her temples glistened—not just from haste.

She was afraid, but dared not show it.

Tuoba Gui slipped an arm around her shoulders and glanced at his eldest son. "If he had even half your courage, I might believe he’d ever dare kill his own father."

At this, Lady Liu laughed softly and pushed playfully at his chest. "You were the one who insisted he study Confucian classics during his education—how can you blame him now?"

Tuoba Gui said nothing, his gaze shifting to the other mother and son standing further away.

Consort He Song stood silent, having bowed without a word.

Yet even in silence, she was stunning—like a lotus in full bloom, her cold demeanor like petals dusted with morning frost.

Even now, Tuoba Gui did not regret ignoring his mother’s pleas to kill Consort He’s husband and claim her as his own.

"What do you think of the prophecy?"

Consort He slowly lifted her eyes, her expression impassive. "If I were you, I would do two things."

This answer seemed to surprise Tuoba Gui. "Go on."

Consort He replied, "Kill me and Shao’er, then announce to the world that I resented you for driving my sister to death and scattering the Helan tribe. Claim that I filled Shao’er’s head with thoughts of revenge—though he’s not yet three—and that you exposed the scheme and executed us."

"The second thing: order Lady Liu to forge a golden figure. If she succeeds, immediately name her Queen and declare Tuoba Si your heir. A king who seeks to rule the world—whose deeds are now known across the land—cannot afford to be without an heir. Think it over."

Lady Liu’s smile stiffened in disbelief.

She had never imagined Consort He would say this.

Consort He was not just Tuoba Gui’s consort—she was also his aunt. Her claim of resentment over her sister’s death referred to the late Queen Dowager, who had passed away less than a year prior.

The logic was airtight.

If Tuoba Gui followed her advice—killing Consort He and Tuoba Shao, then elevating Lady Liu and Tuoba Si—he could nullify the prophecy at once while retaining his eldest son as successor.

The Helan tribe had long been subdued by Tuoba Gui. Aside from a small faction that defected to Later Yan, the rest no longer had the spine to rebel. Killing Consort He and Tuoba Shao would not change their stance.

It was the perfect solution.

Yet it also meant she’d placed the knife in Tuoba Gui’s hand herself.

Tuoba Gui released Lady Liu and closed the distance with Consort He. Even at close range, her gaze remained unnervingly calm.

After a moment of silence, he said, "A shame you aren’t in my place."

Consort He did not need to guess his next move.

He raised a hand and commanded, "Return the consorts and princes to their quarters."

The term "return" likely implied subsequent house arrest and watchful eyes, but it was enough to make Lady Liu’s eyes flash with wild relief.

Gripping Tuoba Si’s hand, she walked out step by step, gratitude surging in her chest toward Consort He.

Without that suicidal gambit, no one could have guessed what decision Tuoba Gui would have made.

Even now, as she walked away, she felt the piercing weight of his stare lingering on the hand holding Tuoba Si.

From Cui Hong’s perspective, the scene was clearer.

Amid Tuoba Gui’s customary ruthlessness, there was a flicker of something resembling nostalgia.

If Cui Hong remembered correctly, Tuoba Gui had spent his childhood living at others’ mercy, escaping only with his mother’s protection before rising to power with the help of her clan.

Yet such support and tenderness had no place in the fight for tribal dominance.

Neither family nor mother were spared. He would never allow anything to shackle him or become a weakness.

Such extreme methods might indeed, as the celestial screen foretold, one day come back to haunt him.

But for now, he simply issued another command: "Execute the Murong clan prisoners—including… Lady Murong."

He Song’s steps stuttered for a moment before she moved on.

Months ago, Tuoba Gui had seized the opportunity after Murong Chui’s death to counterattack, recapturing Pingcheng and taking many Murong clansmen prisoner—among them, Murong Bao’s daughter.

Tuoba Gui had taken her into his harem.

Today, Consort He had staked her life to buy survival—yet she still could not stop Tuoba Gui from raising the executioner’s blade to satisfy his own demands.

She could not even be certain how long his mercy would last.

"Mother… why are you crying?"

He Song quickly stifled her tears, wiping her face with her sleeve before forcing calm into her voice. "No… now is not the time for tears."

Her young son could not possibly understand her turmoil.

Away from Tuoba Gui’s presence, her earlier composure crumbled once more.

"...Your father is cruel and ungrateful. There is little hope for us. We must find a way to escape."

The celestial screen had spoken of a southern ruler—Emperor Yong'an—who would march north after Tuoba Gui’s death to pacify the Central Plains. Perhaps their path to survival lay in the south.

But where was the opportunity to escape?

***

"If we loosen the definition of a hegemon a bit, there are still a few rising contenders in the north during this period."

"For example, someone inherited their father's legacy, first relying on keeping the death secret to confuse the enemy's judgment, then launching a counterattack as the Grand General, and even selecting a military-savvy leader from the Qiang people to be stationed at Shangbang, preparing to seize Longxi."

"For example, when Tuoba Gui massacred the Xiongnu Tiefu tribe, he missed a young child, allowing that child to later soar to power by leveraging his looks to become the son-in-law of an enemy general. After killing his father-in-law, he raised an army and established his own state."

"Of course, these are all events for later, so we won’t dwell on them here."

"Undoubtedly, the Xiongnu, Qiang, Xianbei, and Di peoples all had warrior cultures, and during this phase, many tactical prodigies emerged one after another. These men were no longer content with merely raiding the Central Plains before returning to wandering as nomads. Instead, they sought to draw from the culture of the Central Plains the strength to establish themselves there, transforming their tribes into true states."

"This made the political infighting in the south seem all the more ridiculous at the time! The Eastern Jin’s fashion of idle philosophical discourse, represented by the Yonghe literati, was particularly ill-suited to the era."

"The predawn darkness may not only describe Emperor Yong'an’s current predicament but also the situation faced by states under Han rule."

"Whether they could break through the darkness and usher in the day was a Herculean task."

"This brings us to the second chapter."

A new title appeared on the Celestial Scroll’s depiction of the city of Jiankang:

"The Age of Counterweights."

***

"As is well known, Emperor Yong'an’s personal military leadership skills were middling by the standards of his time. While this was already quite impressive, it still fell short of earning him the title of a legendary commander—especially when compared to Grand General Liu, who served under him."

"But when it came to administrative skill, logistical coordination, civil administration, and strategic decision-making—just look at his performance. Not only did he survive the power struggles, but he also fought his way through. To put it bluntly, even if you combined all the self-proclaimed kings and emperors of that era, Emperor Yong'an could’ve crushed them all."

"During this period, Emperor Yong'an hadn’t yet ascended to the pinnacle of power, but he had already proven this point exceptionally well."

"How to break free from the entanglements of aristocratic families and imperial authority, how to leverage the balance between religion and the throne to establish new rules, how to assemble a loyal force of his own, and how to confront the imminent crises—Emperor Yong'an provided a masterclass in statecraft."

"Three near-fatal crises not only failed to stifle his ambitions in the cradle but instead presented opportunities for showdowns, forcing once-defiant opponents to pledge allegiance. Step by step, he secured a position second only to the emperor, where he could truly operate with free rein."

"The political maneuvering of this era was far more riveting than the tales of sons killing fathers or sons-in-law killing fathers-in-law that unfolded elsewhere."

"Let’s set aside the rumors of certain personal dramas for now and analyze this period purely from the perspective of political confrontation."

"To... avoid being accused of mindless glorification... I—"

Wang Shen’ai was listening intently when suddenly, as if the transmission had cut out, the Celestial Scroll flickered with snowy interference, the video flickering and freezing repeatedly. Then, instead of recovering, the image vanished entirely.

Only the scroll itself remained in the sky, its once-colorful display replaced by a void of darkness.

"...!"

If not for the need to maintain her dignity as the crown princess—lest anyone realize she was no longer her original self—Wang Shen’ai might have jumped in shock at this sudden disruption.

Hey!

What’s the meaning of this?

The analysis hadn’t even revealed who Emperor Yong'an was before cutting off. And now, who knew when this hovering Celestial Scroll would light up again?

How could it just end like this, cut off midstream?

But after a moment of stunned silence, Wang Shen’ai reconsidered. Perhaps this pause...

...had come at just the right time.

For everyone.

The Celestial Scroll had appeared in the dead of night, forcibly rousing people from sleep—an already painful ordeal. Now that it had vanished, the barrage of revelations it had delivered still buzzed like an adrenaline rush in their minds, yet waves of drowsiness inevitably made their eyelids grow heavy.

All sides needed time to digest what they had just learned.

For instance—

If the Celestial Scroll wasn’t just visible to the people of Jiankang but to the entire world, Tuoba Gui in the north would undoubtedly begin purging vulnerabilities to his rule.

She recalled that Tuoba Gui, as the founding emperor of Northern Wei, had implemented a policy seemingly inspired by Emperor Wu of Han—yet far more ruthless—called "Elevate the son, kill the mother."

As the name suggested, to establish a crown prince, one first had to kill the prince’s mother, preventing any queen mother’s meddling in governance.

Yet this very decree not only led to Tuoba Gui’s assassination by his own son but also cast a legacy of instability over the next several generations of Northern Wei rulers.

—Most of its effects were far from positive.

For now, he likely hadn’t connected the dots to this yet-to-be-enforced law, but he would certainly react to the Celestial Scroll’s prophecy.

Though this also meant the southern dynasty would face an even more formidable opponent than before.

And then there was the Celestial Scroll’s mention of a man who would kill his father-in-law after marrying into the family. Wang Shen’ai racked her brain but couldn’t recall how old this individual was now—or whether he’d already been chosen as a son-in-law somewhere. Regardless, he was undoubtedly in the most precarious position among those mentioned.

Whether he could flee under cover of darkness would depend entirely on his own wits.

And then...

As dawn broke, Wang Xun, who had only managed to sleep in his robes for a little over an hour in Sima Yao’s mourning hall, was gently roused by an attendant informing him of a visitor.

The one summoning him was none other than Sima Daozi.

Recalling the arrangements he’d made before closing his eyes, Wang Xun rubbed his face and feigned wariness as he questioned the palace messenger about the meeting location.

After a brief back-and-forth, he successfully negotiated the venue to a nearby palace hall, with neither party permitted to bring more than ten guards.

Sima Daozi clearly harbored no suspicion toward him.

With the empress dowager overseeing the palace—and his own influence already extending within—it was an utterly secure location. There was nothing to fear.

The Wang clan of Langya was also a future collaborator; all that remained was a formal discussion.

Wang Xun hadn’t waited long in the hall before he heard Sima Daozi’s voice growing nearer: "Yuanlin, why must you be so guarded against me? Even arranging a meeting requires such caution."

As he stepped inside, Wang Xun—unless he were blind—could see that Sima Daozi hadn’t rested at all.

Only sheer willpower kept him alert.

Wang Xun cupped his hands in salute and said, "Pardon my frankness, but I believe the Prince of Kuaiji should leave at once."

Sima Daozi’s forced smile stiffened. Remembering his purpose, he forced his expression to relax again. "What kind of talk is that? Do you truly wish to let the Celestial Scroll dictate your fate?"

Wang Xun didn’t answer, only let out a sigh.

That sigh seemed to say more than words ever could.

Sima Daozi’s face twisted in anger as he snapped, "Don’t tell me you’re willing to wait until that so-called 'Emperor Yong’an' appears and then pledge the Wang clan of Langya’s allegiance to him! Even if you do, there’s no guarantee of a good outcome. Why not join me and fight for a better future instead?"

"Before the celestial screen vanished, it also mentioned that Emperor Yong’an faced three mortal perils before truly seizing power in the Jin Dynasty. We still have a great chance to eliminate him—before he has me torn apart by chariots and slaughters half of your Wang clan of Langya!"

This was their opportunity.

The celestial screen had revealed the future—why couldn’t they change it?

He took another step closer to Wang Xun, his tone growing more urgent. "I won’t hide it from you! Half an hour ago, I issued several orders—not only recalling two garrison Prefects with troops to return for reinforcements but also sending men to Pengcheng to eliminate Liu Laozhi, who’s now in retirement!"

Wang Xun frowned. "You think Grand General Liu under Emperor Yong’an is Liu Laozhi, who once served in the Beifu Army?"

"Whether he is or not, killing him first is better safe than sorry." Sima Daozi’s eyes were bloodshot, whether from sleepless nights or madness. "If I had enough men right now, the one I’d kill first would be Huan Xuan!"

Huan Wen’s son, Huan Xuan.

"Who else, if not a military upstart like the Huan family, would face such opposition from both the nobility and the imperial power when claiming the throne?"

"Huan Wen once deposed and installed emperors at will. If not for Xie An and others mediating, he might have even abolished the emperor and taken the throne himself. Now, his youngest son, Huan Xuan, is growing up and coming into his own. Isn’t it possible he seeks to fulfill his father’s ambition?"

After ruling out all other suspects, this was the only conclusion he could reach.

Only a son of Huan Wen would dare to slaughter even the Wang clan of Langya!

Were the situation different, he would kill Huan Xuan first.

Wang Xun mused, "Your logic... isn’t without merit."

Sima Daozi gritted his teeth. "Not just some merit—it’s—"

"But I’m sorry. I can’t agree to your alliance." Wang Xun abruptly cut him off.

Sima Daozi’s expression darkened—not because of Wang Xun’s refusal, but because, at that very moment, a scream rang out from beyond the hall—one he recognized.

In the next breath, the closed doors of the palace were kicked open.

Before Sima Daozi could even draw his sword to take Wang Xun hostage, a group of crossbowmen had already had arrows nocked and aimed at his head.

He didn’t need to ask to know that the guards and spies he’d left outside the hall had likely been wiped out in that sudden upheaval.

Now, he’d become the caged beast.

What stunned him more was the figure standing behind the crossbowmen.

Sima Daozi barked, "What is the meaning of this, Your Highness?"

Wang Shen’ai advanced with measured steps, stopping a few paces behind the front line of crossbowmen.

The faint dawn light from outside streamed in behind her, haloing her form while casting her face in shadow, rendering her features unreadable.

Only her composed voice carried through: "I’d assumed Uncle’s machinations—killing people in advance and forming alliances—signaled your disregard for the fact that, despite the Emperor’s death, the Crown Prince and Second Prince still remain. Ah, so you haven’t forgotten I’m the Crown Princess."

Sima Daozi wasn’t fooled for a moment that her calm tone meant she was here to negotiate. "Speak plainly."

Wang Shen’ai smiled knowingly. "Uncle has always been perceptive. I’ll spare us the niceties. The celestial screen has set the realm astir, exposing the Jin Dynasty’s internal and external crises for all to see. Therefore—"

"We require Uncle’s head to restore peace."

This wasn’t a request—it was a decree.