Chapter 112: Trap

Chapter 112: The Trap

"This is no jest," Xue Qi stated, her gaze fixed on Zhao Mingyue with utmost seriousness. "Has Your Highness truly never contemplated ascending the throne yourself? The people of the three northwestern provinces and the soldiers in your army follow you with unwavering loyalty, risking life and limb, precisely because they envision a future where they and their descendants secure power, wealth, and land!"

"Forgive my bluntness, but you have reached this point through the support of countless women. If you cannot make a decisive move now, then regardless of whether the imperial court or the rebels prevail in this war, you will be the ultimate loser. And all of us will face a nameless demise!"

Zhao Mingyue's expression flickered. Xue Qi's words were indeed unsparing. She yearned to retort, yet felt as if all strength had drained from her, leaving her to sink back into the chair behind her.

Who in this world would not aspire to be emperor? How could she be an exception?

Moreover, she now bore the weight not just of her own destiny, but also that of the people of Yuzhou and the soldiers under her command.

Master Xue was right—if she failed to inherit the throne, then no matter who became emperor, she would be utterly at their mercy. All the systems and reforms she had painstakingly implemented would be effortlessly dismantled.

No one could defy imperial power.

Yet, even so, she could not act as Xue Qi suggested. "No... I cannot betray Mother."

Xue Qi immediately countered, "This is not betrayal. Even if Empress Dowager Chi were willing, Your Highness could not inherit her power and authority, could you?"

Zhao Mingyue wrestled with her thoughts, remaining silent for a long while before finally lifting her head. Her tone was calm, but her eyes gleamed with the sharpness of a cold blade. "Master Xue is correct. I agree. But we must first eliminate Prince Yue and King Ling. With these two threats looming, I cannot secure the throne."

At this, Zhao Yuzhang, who had been silent until now, spoke: "We can send urgent messages to Mei Junrong and Yu Zhao, instructing them to dispatch cavalry for a forced march to the capital for reinforcement. Then we need not fear the rebel forces."

Zhao Mingyue lowered her gaze in contemplation for a moment before asking, "What is the fastest they could arrive?"

Zhao Yuzhang made a rough calculation. "A round trip would take at least ten days, perhaps more."

Zhao Mingyue nodded. "That will suffice. I have already persuaded Prince Yue to send envoys to the capital to negotiate a surrender. They should not launch an attack for now, which buys us a little more time."

Once their plan was set, they drafted the letter in cipher and dispatched dozens of carrier pigeons to Mei Junrong and Yu Zhao. Fearing any mishap, they also sent additional messengers, carrying Zhao Mingyue’s golden tally and personal letter, to discreetly leave the camp and return to Yuzhou to mobilize troops.

—

The next day, Zhao Ping again summoned Zhao Mingyue to the county magistrate's office. They deliberated and drafted terms for withdrawal, then sent envoys with these demands to the capital to persuade Empress Dowager Chi to abdicate and relinquish power.

It was dusk when Zhao Mingyue left the county magistrate's office and returned to her camp.

She rode on horseback, gripping the reins tightly. Occasionally, she turned her head to gaze at the sunset on the horizon. The blood-red light of the setting sun fell upon her clear, handsome, and stern features, inexplicably radiating an aura of grim determination.

Xue Qi stood at the foot of the temporary palace steps, watching intently as Zhao Mingyue approached. "Your Highness, has the letter of surrender been dispatched to the capital?"

"Yes, Prince Yue’s people have already departed," Zhao Mingyue reined in her horse, dismounted, and walked up to Xue Qi, taking her hand. "Master Xue, let us go inside to discuss."

The two entered the main hall to find Zhao Yuzhang standing before a table, her expression grave as she studied the map spread out upon it.

The guards had already lit candles, their flames clearly illuminating the lines on the map.

Zhao Mingyue walked over and followed her gaze, noting that her focus was on the Nanyang Temporary Palace in Nanyang City.

The temporary palace was three hundred li from the capital. Nestled against Zhiyi Mountain, its emerald peaks formed a natural barrier, making it exceptionally cool in summer. It had once been a favored imperial retreat from the heat.

Zhao Mingyue asked curiously, "Aunt, is there an issue with this location?"

Zhao Yuzhang looked up. "There's nothing inherently wrong with the place. I merely find it puzzling why Prince Yue would agree to let Your Highness be the Alliance Leader. Is he not afraid you will claim his achievements? Especially now, with the capital within easy reach, would he truly do nothing?"

Zhao Mingyue’s expression grew serious. "Are you suggesting, Aunt...?"

"I fear Prince Yue might act against us. If the temporary palace is besieged, our only escape route would be Zhiyi Mountain. I was wondering if we should set up some traps at the foot of the mountain, just in case."

Xue Qi concurred, "I agree with General Zhao. We must prepare to evacuate Nanyang. Before reinforcements arrive, we should avoid direct confrontation with the rebels and preserve our strength as much as possible."

Zhao Mingyue nodded. "It's always wise to be prepared. There's no time to lose. Aunt, please have the traps set up immediately."

Zhao Yuzhang assented and turned to leave.

Zhao Mingyue walked to the desk and sat down, her eyes fixed on the map, but her mind drifted to the expressions and interactions of Zhao Ping and Zhao Diao during their discussions earlier that day.

She had been observing them closely, sensing an unusual frequency in their eye contact. Could they have formed an alliance?

What could compel two enemies to set aside their animosity and unite? A common adversary.

A sudden chill crept up from Zhao Mingyue’s feet. Just then, hurried footsteps echoed outside the door.

"Your Highness, scouts report that Zhao Ping and Zhao Diao are gathering troops, seemingly preparing for a night assault on our camp!" A soldier rushed in, shouting in panic.

Zhao Mingyue sprang to her feet. "How many have they mustered?"

"Between forty and sixty thousand."

Zhao Mingyue’s pupils constricted sharply, and Xue Qi’s face also paled.

But in an instant, Zhao Mingyue regained her composure. "Order the entire army to retreat via Zhiyi Mountain! Dispatch the Firearm Battalion to engage Zhao Ping’s forces and buy time for the main army’s withdrawal! Quickly!"

—

Meanwhile, Zhao Ping and Zhao Diao had assembled fifty thousand troops and were advancing towards the Nanyang Temporary Palace under the cover of night.

After marching for about two quarters of an hour, Zhao Ping suddenly heard the sound of hoofbeats ahead. Looking up, he saw a unit of light cavalry, numbering over a thousand, charging out of the vast darkness.

"This is bad—Zhao Mingyue already knows about our sneak attack," Zhao Ping panicked and immediately ordered the flag officer, "Quick, signal the vanguard to disperse!"

Before his words fully registered, the cavalry unit had already reached them, raising their firearms and unleashing a volley.

In an instant, a barrage of gunfire erupted, and Prince Yue’s soldiers tumbled from their horses like dumplings, thudding to the ground.

Zhao Ping clung to his horse’s neck, lying flat against it, not daring to move. All he could hear were deafening explosions. As a thick cloud of smoke dissipated, the light cavalry had already turned their horses and galloped back towards the temporary palace.

Zhao Ping looked back and saw that his forces had suffered heavy losses. Nearly a hundred soldiers lay on the ground, writhing and moaning, no longer combat-effective.

Furious, he immediately ordered the army to pursue, abandoning the wounded.

However, after chasing only two or three li, the elusive light cavalry, appearing and disappearing like ghosts, reappeared, unleashing another barrage of gunfire before retreating again, refusing to engage in prolonged combat.

Zhao Ping’s troops were nowhere near as swift or mobile as these light cavalry. Fearing that sending small units ahead might lead them into an ambush, he found it impossible to catch up or inflict any damage on the enemy.

By the time they reached the Nanyang Temporary Palace, they had already sustained several hundred casualties.

Zhao Ping was seething with rage. "When I capture them, I’ll flay them alive!" he roared.

He then accelerated the advance, and before long, they arrived at the Nanyang Temporary Palace. It was shrouded in darkness, without a single light.

Fearful that Zhao Mingyue had laid traps, Zhao Ping first ordered archers to loose a volley of arrows into the compound. Hearing no response, he then commanded soldiers to breach the main gate and ride inside.

Once inside, they discovered that Zhao Mingyue and her forces had vanished without a trace.

The soldiers searched palace after palace but found not a single soul. It was only when they reached the back gate that they faintly spotted a group of people fleeing up Zhiyi Mountain.

Zhao Ping’s spirits lifted. "After them! They’re carrying cannons and supplies—they can’t have gone far!"

The troops immediately charged after them towards Zhiyi Mountain. Upon reaching the mountain pass, they found a cannon lying across the path, with numerous arrows scattered around it.

Zhao Ping was overjoyed. "This bunch of women doesn't even have the strength to run and have abandoned their cannon. Quick, get that divine weapon over here!"

The soldiers rushed forward to seize the cannon, but Zhao Diao, who had been following at the rear due to a leg injury, suddenly urged his horse forward and shouted, "Wait! Third Brother, didn’t you promise me an extra share of the firearms? This cannon should be mine!"

Zhao Ping’s face turned ashen. He was about to lose his temper when it occurred to him that Zhao Mingyue had multiple cannons. There was no point squabbling over just one and risking her escape by wasting time.

Suppressing his rage, he forced a smile and said, "Fine, this cannon is yours. Now you can trust that I keep my word!"

Zhao Diao smirked insincerely. "Then I thank you, Third Brother."

He dismounted and led a team forward personally. As he approached and saw the massive iron-gray barrel of the cannon up close, his eyes lit up with excitement.

If he could seize all of Zhao Mingyue’s cannons, he, Zhao Diao, could march straight into the capital and make himself emperor!

With a wave of his hand, his subordinates rushed to push the cannon.

Just then, he faintly caught the smell of sulfur and heard the fizzing sound of a burning fuse growing louder...

What's that sound? As Zhao Diao wondered, the burning sound abruptly stopped, followed by a thunderous explosion. Thick smoke instantly engulfed him.

The next moment, he found himself soaring high above, as if flying. He saw flames erupting below, and nearby soldiers torn apart by the blast.

Then, he saw his own body, shattered and lying in the smoke, his head severed from his neck.

Only then did he realize his head had been blown into the sky.

With a thud, Zhao Diao’s head landed right in front of Zhao Ping. His blood-red eyes, wide open in death, stared fixedly at Zhao Ping.

"Ah!" Zhao Ping screamed in terror and sent the head flying with a kick.

It turned out Zhao Mingyue had deliberately left the cannon there to lure them in.

It was a trap!

If Zhao Diao hadn’t rushed forward, he would have been the one killed.

A wave of fear washed over him. Zhao Ping was about to speak when he noticed a figure moving behind a tree ahead. He immediately shouted, "Capture her!"

The soldiers rushed over, restrained the person behind the tree, and brought them before Zhao Ping.

Seeing the person wearing armor, clearly one of Zhao Mingyue’s generals, Zhao Ping scowled. "Was it you who lit the fuse just now?"

The soldier looked up at him, eyes blazing fiercely, but remained silent.

Zhao Ping pressed, "Which way did your master go?"

Still, the soldier said nothing.

Enraged, Zhao Ping drew his sword and held the blade to the soldier’s face, snarling, "If you don’t talk, I’ll cut out your tongue!"

The soldier showed no fear, coldly staring back. "Just kill me."

Zhao Ping had never seen someone so bold, utterly unafraid of death.

"Fine, I’ll grant your wish!" He raised his sword, ready to strike the soldier’s neck.

Suddenly, one of his subordinates shouted, "Your Highness, look up at the sky! What is that?"

What else could be in the sky besides Zhao Diao’s head?

Zhao Ping glared angrily at his subordinate but irritably glanced upward—and froze in shock.