Chapter 56

Chapter 56

News of Xiong Lu's death reached the palace, sending shivers down Zhao Yun's spine. He slumped into his chair, lost in stunned silence.

In truth, from the moment yesterday’s mobilization orders were dispatched and met with no response, no replies from any quarter, he knew the situation was dire. Though he occupied the imperial palace, held the imperial seal and military tokens, and could issue commands, the regional generals, each commanding their own troops, did not rally to his call. Instead, they all chose to observe.

Zhao Yun understood that these generals were waiting for the situation to clarify. If he emerged victorious, they would surely flock to his side; if Hua Xun prevailed, they would do the same. Ultimately, these men feared that a hasty intervention might lead them to back the wrong side, implicating them as rebels.

Zhao Yun had anticipated this, which was why he had rushed to declare his grandson the emperor’s adopted son. This move, at least on the surface, made him appear far more legitimate than Hua Xun, the General of the Southern Garrison, who seemingly lacked any substantial backing.

But circumstances changed. Now that the news of Hua Xun’s support for the Ninth Prince Zhou Yunning had spread—regardless of its authenticity—the regional garrisons that could have been mobilized by him all remained inactive.

It was likely that their commanders would not make any move until they verified the truth of this news.

“It’s over!” Zhao Yun sighed deeply, leaning back in his chair and staring blankly at the great hall’s dome.

He seemed to foresee that in this struggle between him and Hua Xun, while most court officials had not openly opposed him, few stood firmly in his camp. They were more concerned with self-preservation, preferring to watch from the sidelines rather than take a stand.

Thus, he was left with only one final option: to gather his inner circle, mobilize all forces from the Western Capital Camp and the Northern Office Camp, and launch a preemptive strike, determined to take Hua Xun’s head.

If even this failed, then his only recourse would be to flee.

Zhao Yun prepared for both outcomes. He did not even inform his most trusted confidants of his escape plans, entrusting only his son to discreetly arrange them.

That night, Zhao Yun mustered 100,000 troops from the Western Mountain Camp and the Northern Office Camp. He took personal command, appointing his nephew Zhao Chang as the vanguard, and his nephews Song Wei and Qian Yu as left and right generals. They advanced from three directions to launch a surprise attack on the Southern Garrison Army’s camp.

The march proceeded smoothly, encountering no obstacles, and they advanced unimpeded straight to the enemy camp.

The roar of battle shook the heavens.

Yet, the moment the three forces breached the gates, the cries abruptly ceased.

The camp was brightly lit, but not a single soul was in sight.

“It’s a trap! Retreat!”

Someone shouted these words, but before they could even turn their horses around, a new wave of battle cries surged toward them from all directions like a tidal wave.

What they had believed to be a three-pronged encirclement had instead delivered them into the Southern Garrison Army’s trap. The tables had turned in an instant. The camp instantly became a death trap, as countless fire arrows rained down from the sky, bursting into flames upon impact with the ground.

Only then did Zhao Yun’s army realize that the camp grounds were drenched in oil. Now ignited, the flames left them with nowhere to hide, and chaos erupted instantly.

“Break out!”

There was no other choice.

However, the ease with which they had charged into the camp was now matched by the difficulty of breaking out. The once level ground, now burned through the wooden covers, revealed pits filled with sharp blades below. Those who fell in had no chance of survival.

The casualties were devastating, and the air was filled with screams.

Some managed to break through the wooden barriers of the camp, carving a path through the pits and flames, thinking they had found a sliver of hope, only to discover that the enemy soldiers couldn't be killed?!

Not only were they unkillable, they barely even bled, as if they felt no pain.

“Damn it, what are these things?” someone cried out in despair.

“What things? I’m your granddaddy!” the questioned Southern Garrison soldier retorted smugly, cursing as he swung his blade back.

The situation was almost entirely one-sided, with the initiative firmly in the hands of the Southern Garrison Army.

When Zhao Yun received the frontline report, General Hua Xun had personally led 100,000 troops to join forces with Ninth Prince Zhou Yunning’s 20,000 personal guards, arriving at the southern city’s Vermilion Bird Gate and beginning their assault.

Upon receiving the news, Zhao Yun was dazed for a long time, as if all strength had been sucked out of him. He slid from his chair and burst into tears.

“The tide has turned!”

His dream of becoming emperor had lasted less than a month—

The tide had turned.

This seemed destined to be a sleepless night.

The entire capital was filled with the smoke of war.

Zhao Yun arrived at the Golden Hall. Like a man defeated, he slowly climbed the high platform. With tear-streaked face, he gazed at the unique throne atop the platform and once again burst into tears.

Then, Zhao Yun finally sat upon it.

He wanted to laugh, to say, "This throne is still mine!" but as he opened his mouth, he spat out a mouthful of blood. His vision blurred at that moment. Zhao Yun’s eyes fixed blankly ahead as he toppled forward, collapsing onto the cold floor of the platform, unconscious.

……

Boom!

The Southern Garrison Army breached the Vermilion Bird Gate.

The vanguard troops swarmed in, driving the defending soldiers into retreat.

Behind them, a silver-armored general wearing a mask rode forward. He sat tall and upright on his horse, holding a long sword, his imposing figure made him appear even more extraordinary amidst the flickering flames.

The air was thick with the smell of blood, and the ears were filled with the sounds of screams from all directions.

Zhou Yunning frowned deeply, spurring his horse forward into the city, but suddenly shouted, “I am Zhou Yunning, the ninth son of the late emperor. I know today’s calamity is not your fault but the deception of traitors like Zhao Yun. If you surrender now, you will be pardoned immediately.”

After he shouted, all the Southern Garrison soldiers immediately repeated his words loudly. For a moment, not only were the defending soldiers stunned, but even the common people hiding in their homes were astounded. So the rumors were true—the court had indeed been seized by the traitor Zhao Yun. If not for this, why would the Ninth Prince attack the city? It was said he had lived in the cold palace all these years, the most insignificant member of the royal family. Generally, in such situations, unless there were no other royals left, he would never be the one to take charge.

Some immediately recalled the recent rumors that the deaths of the princes were all assassinations by traitors—now it seemed certain that traitor was Zhao Yun.

The daze lasted only a moment. Upon hearing the prince was here, the defending soldiers laid down their weapons and knelt to surrender.

Zhou Yunning breathed a sigh of relief. This would avoid much unnecessary slaughter and save many lives.

He immediately turned to order the medics: “Quickly, send people to distribute the pills to the wounded soldiers. Do not distinguish between friend and foe—they are all soldiers of Great Zhou. Save as many as possible.”

The medics hurried to carry out the order.

The other soldiers who heard the Ninth Prince’s words were moved to tears, their gazes instantly filled with admiration, wishing they could follow him for life. For everyone knew—a prince this virtuous would be hard to find even with a lantern.

The effect of the pills was nothing short of miraculous, healing even those soldiers lying in pools of blood almost immediately. Many who had been waiting for death on the ground were revived by a single pill. Upon hearing the medicine was provided by the Ninth Prince, they were so touched they shed tears on the spot. Many even rushed to kneel before the Ninth Prince, kowtowing in gratitude for his benevolence and life-saving grace.

The life-saving little pills produced by Gao Zhen continued to shine this night, becoming the hot topic among all the soldiers.

The entire night was chaotic and noisy. Meanwhile, Gao Zhen hid in the spacious carriage Zhou Yunning had prepared for him, fast asleep. His utterly unconcerned air suggested not a hint of worry that Zhou Yunning might lose—as if he had already determined their Ninth Prince was destined to win.

The situation seemed to unfold just as Gao Zhen predicted. When Old General Hua Xun and the Ninth Prince charged triumphantly to the palace gates, they happened to see a carriage calmly driving out from the slowly opening Zhengyang Gate.

An old eunuch sat on the carriage shaft, bowing slightly in salute to the Ninth Prince. He raised a hand and ripped a mask from his face—it was actually Mu Zhong.

Mu Zhong stopped the carriage, knelt on the ground, and watched as Ninth Prince walked step by step toward him, tears of joy streamed down his weathered face.

This was the person he had watched being born and silently protected for twenty years.

The once-revered prodigy from ten years ago, hardened by a decade of trials and tribulations, had finally regained his former glory today. He had waited for this day for far too long.

"Your Highness," Mu Zhong kowtowed with deep reverence.

"Rise quickly," Zhou Yunning personally helped him up and asked, "Where are they?"

"In the carriage," Mu Zhong hurriedly wiped his tears. "Both the father and son are here."

Ninth Prince nodded and turned to look at Old General Hua.

The old general raised his hand, and Hu Huo, along with several other generals, immediately stepped forward, lifted the carriage curtain, and dragged the bound Zhao Yun and his son out of the carriage.

Both had cloth stuffed in their mouths.

Hua Xun approached, drew his sword from his belt, and said casually, "Imperial Uncle Zhao, we meet again?" As he spoke, he used the tip of his sword to remove the gag from Zhao Yun's mouth.

During this process, Zhao Yun was so terrified that he pissed himself.

Hua Xun frowned, covered his nose, and took two steps back, disdainfully remarking, "As the old saying goes, 'Only those with great courage can achieve great deeds.' With Imperial Uncle Zhao’s coward's heart, it seems you’ve overstepped your bounds. You’ve gone too far."

Hua Xun turned back. "Your Highness, how should such a traitor to the nation be dealt with?"

"Traitors shall not be pardoned. Otherwise, who will answer for the dead soldiers?" Zhou Yunning said expressionlessly.

Hua Xun nodded without a moment's hesitation. With a swift swing of his sword, a fountain of blood erupted, and Zhao Yun’s head fell to the ground. At the sight, Zhao Yun’s son fainted from fear.

"Pathetic," Hu Huo spat contemptuously.

Just then, a group of horsemen arrived through the streets.

The leader was a pale-faced scholar-official who quickly walked up to Zhou Yunning, bowed, and said, "Feng Baoren, Vice Minister of the Dali Temple (Court of Judicial Review), pays his respects to Ninth Prince. I apologize for my tardiness, Your Highness."

"It’s fine," Ninth Prince waved his hand. Perhaps because Feng Baoren was Beauty Feng’s brother, his attitude toward him was somewhat more lenient. He said, "Take Zhao Yun’s son to the dungeons and keep him under strict guard. Display Zhao Yun’s head and corpse at the Meridian Gate and have soldiers take turns shouting, 'The traitor has been eliminated,' to reassure the people."

"As you command."

Feng Baoren had always been a supporter of Consort Ning's faction. He was a student of Consort Ning’s father, Chancellor Lin. The year the Lin family fell into disgrace, Feng Baoren was serving outside the capital. Later, he returned to the capital to assume the position of Vice Minister of the Dali Temple. Fortunately, this allowed him to avoid Zhao Chenglan’s purge of the Lin faction back then.

Over the years, Consort Ning had been confined to the "Silenced Palace" and unable to leave. The ten-year-old Zhou Yunning was raised by Beauty Feng in her stead. Thus, in many ways, Beauty Feng took on many considerations for Zhou Yunning. However, as she was not his birth mother, she always cautiously refrained from crossing certain boundaries.

For this reason, as Zhou Yunning grew up, he held both respect and trust for Beauty Feng. The childlike dependence he once had on her as a mother figure gradually faded with time, buried deep in his heart and faded into memory.

Since Consort Ning began laying the groundwork for this plan months ago, Feng Baoren had contributed significantly, all of which Ninth Prince was well aware of.

After entrusting Zhao Yun's son to Feng Baoren, Zhou Yunning and Hua Xun stormed the imperial palace with their troops.

He refused to believe Zhou Yunning was missing.

For him, he would find him alive or see his corpse.