Chapter 53

Chapter 53

The Ninth Prince returned three days later.

That day, Zhenyun Pavilion was bustling with customers, having just launched new dishes. Gao Zhen was so busy he barely had a moment to himself. Suddenly, a customer outside shouted, "Soldiers! The restaurant is surrounded! Run!"

Many inside, without a second thought, dropped their chopsticks and scattered, fleeing at the sound of the alarm. In an instant, the restaurant was thrown into utter chaos, a scene of utter pandemonium.

Amidst the commotion, Gao Zhen stood frozen.

His gaze pierced through the open doorway, fixed on the line of knights outside. At the head rode a man on a white horse, his face concealed by a silver mask, exuding a chilling aura of power. His silver armor gleamed, and his tall frame was imposing. His hands, calloused and strong, gripped the reins.

Gao Zhen stared at those hands, his feet moving involuntarily. Then, he broke into a sprint.

The man on horseback dismounted, catching the person who rushed into his arms.

"Your Highness."

Gao Zhen's eyes welled up slightly. The man he held so tightly was indeed the Ninth Prince, whom he had been separated from for three days.

"I'm back," Zhou Yunning said, as if fulfilling a promise, his gaze tenderly fixed on Gao Zhen.

But Gao Zhen knew that the Ninth Prince was, after all, a royal. Now reunited with Consort Ning, he could no longer remain confined to the small Zhenyun Pavilion. So, he declared, "Wherever Your Highness goes from now on, I wish to follow, never to be parted."

The Ninth Prince pondered for a moment before replying, "War is too dangerous. A Zhen, it's safer for you to stay in Wolf City. I will definitely return for you."

"You're leaving again?" Gao Zhen sighed helplessly, looking at the Ninth Prince. "I don't want to be separated from you anymore. I want to be where I can see you."

"Do you mean you want to come with me to the military camp?"

Gao Zhen nodded. "I possess medical skills. Even in the camp, I can be of assistance to Your Highness."

Zhou Yunning hadn't anticipated Gao Zhen's foresight. It seemed he was resolute in following him. To refuse now would surely disappoint Gao Zhen.

He mused for a long moment before finally nodding. "Alright. But once we're in the camp, you must not engage in anything dangerous or anything that distracts me from my duties. You must promise me to prioritize your safety above all else. Otherwise, I will send you back."

Gao Zhen listened intently, feeling he could agree to most of the Ninth Prince's stipulations. Only one point required clarification, so he lowered his voice and whispered, "But first, you must clarify what you mean by 'not doing anything that distracts you'?"

"Of course, it means not putting yourself in danger. What did you think it meant?" Zhou Yunning's gaze held a knowing smile, as if seeing right through Gao Zhen.

Gao Zhen blushed, glared at him, and retorted, "Then you can't do anything that distracts me either. In every sense of the word. Alright, no further discussion. It's settled." With that, he pushed him away and ran off.

The Ninth Prince's lips curved into a broad smile, then softened into a faint grin.

That same day, Gao Zhen packed his belongings and returned to the military camp with the Ninth Prince. He entrusted the affairs of Zhenyun Pavilion entirely to Zhang Jingsong, without any reservations. Now, the defenses of Wolf City were under the Ninth Prince's command, and they were no longer the downtrodden royals, vulnerable to bullying, as they had been in the cold palace.

Just three days later, a major fire erupted in the palace.

It was said to have originated in Yongshou Palace, though the exact cause remained unknown. The fire raged for a full day and night, reducing the adjacent Western Six Palaces to ashes. The peculiar aspect was that, despite six palaces being engulfed, not a single eunuch or maid perished. The sole casualty was Empress Dowager Zhao Chenglan.

The news sent shockwaves across the nation.

Officials in the capital were particularly incensed. During the morning court session, over a dozen ministers openly confronted Zhao Yun, who was temporarily overseeing state affairs, in the Golden Hall.

The ministers jointly submitted a petition demanding that Zhao Yun restore power to the descendants of the Zhou family.

Some even mocked him directly: "Now that the Empress Dowager has passed away, what right do you, Imperial Uncle Zhao, have to cling to power? Return it to the Zhou family at once! Or do you harbor treacherous intentions, aiming to usurp the throne?"

"I'd like to return it, but you have to find me a descendant of the Zhou family to return it to!" Zhao Yun attempted to evade the issue.

The ministers were so furious they nearly spat blood, shouting, "The Emperor is missing, the Empress Dowager is dead, and the princes have been killed—aren't these all your doing?! And now you use this as an excuse to cling to power?!"

"Don't slander me!"

"Enough arguing!" At the critical moment, Minister of Justice Qi Jinxiang thundered, "Who says the royal bloodline is extinct?! The Ninth Prince is right outside the city. Why not bring him back to take charge of the situation?"

Zhao Yun's face darkened. He had been so preoccupied with monitoring the emperor and the princes that he had overlooked this seemingly insignificant royal. Now, this person had become the sole vulnerability in his plan. It seemed that taking power legitimately was no longer possible unless he eliminated Zhou Yunning. Otherwise, his meticulously laid plans would be ruined halfway through.

Zhao Yun's gaze swept over the faces of those present, a cold glint in his eyes. He sneered, "Minister Qi's suggestion is a possibility, but this matter requires careful consideration. Let's postpone it for now. Wait here briefly while I ponder it further."

With that, he left. Once outside, he instructed the eunuch beside him, "Prepare poisoned wine. No one inside is to leave. Not a word of today's events must leak out. Also, send someone outside the city immediately to investigate the impersonator of the prince. Execute him on the spot as soon as he's found. The sooner, the better."

A sinister look flashed across the eunuch's face as he smiled and replied, "As you command. I will see to it at once."

Soon after, the eunuch returned with wine and food, pouring drinks for the ministers while secretly slipping each a pill, signaling them to take it before drinking.

The dozen or so ministers trapped in the hall showed no panic or suspicion toward the eunuch.

Qi Jinxiang, in particular, remained expressionless. He took the pill, drank the wine, and collapsed to the ground with clean efficiency.

How could he not be decisive? Just a few days earlier, he had received a letter from his son, Qi You.

At this critical juncture of political transition, while he was still wavering, his son's letter had cleared his doubts. In the letter, Qi You detailed the Ninth Prince's benevolence and how he, along with Gao Geer, had rescued him in the cold palace. He advised his father to clearly assess the situation: with the support of the General of the Southern Garrison and his 300,000 battle-hardened, fiercely loyal troops, the Ninth Prince's rise to power was almost certain. Zhao Yun was nothing but a petty man, no match for him. Now, the Ninth Prince had a plan that required his cooperation.

After a night of deliberation, Qi Jinxiang decided to take the risk. He urgently gathered his allies in the court to stage this confrontation in the Golden Hall. Now, it seemed the effect was quite successful.

At the very least, Zhao Yun's resort to poisoned wine indicated he was backed into a corner. Otherwise, given his tendency to avoid confrontation, he would never have taken such a drastic step.

Mu Zhong, wearing a mask, stood by the door with his hands tucked into his sleeves. His expression was sinister, but a hint of amusement lurked in his eyes. As he watched the ministers collapse, he immediately waved his hand. Two rows of young eunuchs behind him rushed into the hall, bagged the unconscious officials, placed them in large wooden boxes, and transported them out of the palace.

The incident went unnoticed within the palace. However, before the corpse cart had even crossed Shenwu Avenue, it collided with a carriage in the middle of the road. The cart overturned, and the bodies spilled onto the ground. The faces of the officials immediately prompted screams from the people on the street.

"Murder! Murder! The officials have been killed!" The citizens screamed and fled in all directions, spreading the news until the entire city knew.

The propaganda effect was even better than Mu Zhong had anticipated. But Mu Zhong was a perfectionist. The moment the cart overturned, he clutched his head and fled, shouting, "It's not my fault! I was acting on Imperial Uncle Zhao's orders!"

In less than half an hour, the entire city knew that Imperial Uncle Zhao had killed the ministers.

This was unacceptable, and the capital erupted in chaos.

As the saying goes, bad news travels fast. Soon, rumors spread throughout the capital: Imperial Uncle Zhao had killed the ministers to usurp the throne.

Before long, Zhao Yun received the news in the palace. Enraged, he grabbed a teacup and smashed it to the ground.

The shattering of porcelain echoed like the shattering of the current political situation. Only one path remained for Zhao Yun: to resolve things by force.

Having come this far, he had no turning back. Fortunately, he still held the military tally.

On the night of the Yongshou Palace fire, he visited his sister, Zhao Chenglan.

He said, "Hua Xun has brought 300,000 troops from the Southern Garrison to the capital, demanding justice for Lin Caiying, whom she fought with all her life. The only one who can defend you now is me, your brother. So, give me the military tally? Chenglan, think back to our childhood. Whenever you were wronged, didn't I always avenge you?"

His sister, lying bedridden and unable to move, stared coldly at him and asked, "If I give you everything, will I still live?"

He chuckled and said, "Of course." If you don't live, where would I find such a useful shield?

Zhao Chenglan said many things after that, even screaming hysterically, but he only heard one thing clearly: a location... a box...

That day, he found the military tally in a box, just as he had hoped. He picked it up and left without looking back or sparing a glance at the immobilized woman.

At some point, he began to feel that blood ties didn’t seem to matter as much.

Zhao Chenglan watched her elder brother’s retreating figure, tears tracing down her cheeks.

The events of the Heaven Worship Ceremony couldn't bear closer inspection. Everywhere she looked, there was careless, half-hearted perfunctoriness, as if she were being treated like a fool. Yet, in the world today, the only person who could make her let her guard down so completely was her own brother, Zhao Yun.

The reason she was stuck in this bed, unable to move, was entirely Zhao Yun’s doing.

Zhao Chenglan’s heart was sick with grief.

She, Zhao Chenglan, had struggled all her life, clawing for power and influence in this ruthless harem. All she wanted was to live with some dignity. She relied on her natal family, seeking nothing more than peace of mind.

But in the end, it seemed she had gained nothing.

All the changes seemed to start from the moment she decided to challenge her son for power.

Thinking of her son, Zhao Chenglan closed her eyes. She should not have listened to slander, nor should she have tried to consolidate her natal family’s power by hoping to raise another prince to counter her own son.

There’s no room for family in power struggles—this saying is not wrong, but often, one should also discern people’s true nature and make distinctions.

At least compared to Zhao Yun, Yundu was far more reliable.

She wondered how Yundu was faring now. Was he still alive?

At this moment, Zhao Chenglan finally felt regret. She realized she had been wrong, terribly wrong.

She had been blinded by the power that came with being Empress Dowager, forgetting that her greatest asset in the harem struggles had never been her natal family, but the fact that she had a son—one who listened to her, even to the point of being filial.

Now, was this son still alive?

“Someone come!”

Zhao Chenglan shouted. Only echoes floating in the empty palace answered her.

Now that power had finally fallen into the hands of her natal family, she had not a shred of dignity left. Lying there like a useless heap, she could not move at all.

She was unwilling, she was furious.

Lifting her hand, straining to lift it…

Finally, she managed to move her arm, but it only rose for a moment before falling powerlessly.

That unresponsive hand knocked over the oil lamp by the bed, and the cloyingly sweet oil spilled onto the bed, instantly igniting the entire wooden frame.

Amid the flames, Zhao Chenglan’s shrill, crazed laughter rang out.

Before her eyes appeared faces twisted in panic. Strangely, she could still recall each of their names.

They were the people who had once died at her hand.

Tears could not extinguish the karmic flames, so Zhao Chenglan did not cry.