Chapter 57

Chapter 57

Upon hearing that the Ninth Prince had returned to the palace, officials rushed there overnight to pay their respects. Their haste was understandable; compared to Zhao Yun’s fake adopted grandson, this was the genuine imperial prince. It would be illogical to have paid homage to an impostor only to neglect the true heir. Ultimately, their actions were driven by the desire for self-preservation.

Zhou Yunning, keenly aware of the ministers’ motivations, understood human nature and, for the sake of overall stability, chose not to hold them accountable. The officials collectively breathed a sigh of relief, praising the Ninth Prince for his wisdom and benevolence, likening him to the virtuous sages of antiquity.

Zhou Yunning remained indifferent to the accolades. His first act upon returning to the palace was to summon the palace staff, entrusting Mu Zhong with their deployment to search for the emperor’s whereabouts.

After searching for half the night without success, they instead found Ling Yuehe attempting to steal a horse and flee from the Imperial Stables.

Once the esteemed Chief Eunuch, Ling Yuehe now appeared disheveled and wretched, bound tightly and pushed before Zhou Yunning.

To command the officials’ trust earlier, Zhou Yunning had already removed his mask. The scarred half of his face appeared even more menacing under the flickering candlelight of the night. His stern and imposing demeanor, like a Rakshasa from ancient tales, struck fear into all who beheld him.

Ling Yuehe took one glance, his legs giving way as he collapsed to his knees.

“Your Highness, spare me!” Ling Yuehe trembled, too terrified to lift his head. Recalling how he had allowed Ling Bing to embezzle from and oppress the Cold Palace over the past decade, he felt his prospects were bleak and feared he wouldn't survive the day. Cold sweat instantly drenched him.

“Survival is not impossible,” Zhou Yunning said calmly. “Tell me where Zhou Yundu is hidden, and I will spare your life.”

Ling Yuehe collapsed to the ground, his heart pounding as if about to burst from his chest. Moments later, he broke into loud sobs, crawling forward on his knees to beg for mercy. “Your Highness, this old servant had no other choice! Zhao Yun forced me into a corner, leaving me no option but to offer up His Majesty… offer up…” He couldn’t finish, choking on his words before fainting.

Offer what? Could it be a sacrifice?!

Zhou Yunning immediately stood and hurried out of the hall.

As he moved, the civil and military officials quickly followed, along with the various palace department supervisors. A large crowd marched toward the northwest corner.

This path… this direction… Could His Highness be heading to…

Many department heads lowered their heads further as they walked, realizing that the Ninth Prince might be heading to the Cold Palace—the desolate area of the palace where he had been imprisoned for ten years, rarely visited by anyone.

It was the most neglected part of the palace. Those who lived there were once considered the living dead, looked down upon even by the palace latrine cleaners. It was also where the Ninth Prince had lived from age ten until the present.

Reflecting on those ten years, which official had offered him any aid? None. Who had shown him a shred of sympathy? No one. Who had ever imagined that this neglected prince would step forward to save the precarious Great Zhou dynasty? Even fewer.

The ministers felt ashamed, trailing behind the Ninth Prince with heads bowed. In contrast, Mu Zhong, walking a few steps behind the Ninth Prince, stood tall and straight. Feng Baoren, who had hurried back from the prison of the Court of Judicial Review, confidently attended to the Ninth Prince diligently.

However, the Ninth Prince did not go to the Cold Palace. Instead, he turned onto a secluded palace path midway, heading straight for the clearing where the Golden Wheel was located. This clearing had a gate to the south leading to the imperial kitchens and another to the west connecting to the palace path they were on.

The Ninth Prince stopped before the gate, removing a pouch from his waist. The pouch was crudely embroidered with the character “Ning,” clearly the work of an unskilled hand. Yet, the Ninth Prince carried it with him, showing his affection for whoever made it.

He took two packets of powder from the pouch and turned to the crowd. “Stay back. Do not enter without my order.” Tearing open one packet, he sprinkled the powder in a line at the entrance before pushing the gate open.

Inside, talismans covered every surface. These were not the ones he had left behind; someone had replaced them. The talismans were inscribed with seals drawn in blood—seals that Zhou Yunning recognized as the Gu-sealing curse. The only person in all of Great Zhou who could use their own blood to seal Gu was Daoist Master Jinming.

Had the Daoist Master been here?

Zhou Yunning frowned, puzzled. If the Daoist Master had entered the palace, why had he allowed Zhao Yun’s rebellion? Knowing Daoist Master Jinming’s upright and principled nature, he would never tolerate such treachery. Why—

All speculation ceased the moment he saw the scene before him.

What… What is this?!

The massive axle of the Golden Wheel had two circular plates. On one side was pinned Zhou Yundu, on the other, the deposed empress. Both were covered in curse patterns, their heads hanging limply as if unconscious for a long time. From a distance, Zhou Yunning couldn’t tell if they were still breathing.

On the ground facing the wheel, trenches had been dug with a shovel, forming a pattern identical to the curses on the emperor and empress.

Another Gu-sealing curse?!

Zhou Yunning walked forward, sprinkling powder as he went. When he saw Daoist Master Jinming’s face, he froze in shock.

Blood stained the Daoist Master’s face, dried trails flowing from his seven orifices. He sat cross-legged, motionless, with no sign of breath—having achieved ascension in his final moments. With his last strength, he had resealed this deadly formation.

Zhou Yunning clenched his fists, recalling the warmth and guidance the Daoist Master had given him in his youth. Fighting back tears, he paid his respects with a deep bow.

Turning back to the two on the Golden Wheel, he confirmed they were no longer breathing either.

Just then, the gate opened, and a young Daoist stood at the entrance, calling out, “Your Highness, the Daoist Master left a letter for you. Please read it.”

Zhou Yunning retraced his steps, taking the letter from the young Daoist.

The handwriting was bold and vigorous, in Daoist Master Jinming’s unique style:

“Your Highness, I had the fortune to meet you in your youth. Through bone reading, I foresaw that you would one day rule the realm, though not without severe trials, that could only be resolved through ‘goodness.’ Thus, I dared not speak openly, only offering elixir formulas, ancient texts, and teachings on talismans and incantations to aid you.

Yet, ten years have passed like a dream. Now, the Southern Barbarians have returned to the capital, stirring up Gu sorcery once again. Tracing the Gu poison of the deposed empress, I found its source in the emperor himself—a long-standing plot by the Southern Barbarians. I had not expected that saving the deposed empress would activate the Gu within the emperor. I entered the palace to rescue him, only to find Zhao Yun colluding with the Southern Barbarians, seeking to control the emperor and activate the Gu formation. Ling Yuehe, who had hidden the emperor, later betrayed him to Zhao Yun to save himself, offering him as a sacrifice for the formation.

By the time I arrived, the formation had already been activated. To prevent further tragedy and protect the people, I had no choice but to gamble with my life for a chance at survival. If I could save the emperor and empress, my life would not have been in vain. If not, then it was fate.

After my death, I hope Your Highness will bury my body beneath the Gu formation under the Golden Wheel. May my flesh and bones purify the formation, ensuring a century of peace for Great Zhou.”

Drip. Drip.

Zhou Yunning’s tears fell soundlessly, drop by drop, onto the letter.

He wanted to say that the Daoist Master acted with unparalleled righteousness.

But when he opened his mouth, no words came out.

Now was not the time for grief. Zhou Yunning quickly wiped his tears, coughed lightly, and said, “Daoist Master Jinming gave his life to protect the capital from the Gu plague. He shall be posthumously granted the title of Duke. The other Daoists shall be rewarded as well.”

Before he could finish, the young Daoist bowed deeply and pleaded, “Your Highness is generous, but we cultivators should not covet fame or wealth. We beg your understanding.”

“In that case,” Zhou Yunning thought for a moment, “your family members in your home regions shall be rewarded.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” the young Daoist replied, relieved.

“Is the Minister of Rites present?” Zhou Yunning turned to ask, and a minister quickly made his way through the crowd.

“Minister of Rites Jiao Miao pays respects to Your Highness. What are your orders?” Jiao Miao was a short, sallow-skinned man who resembled a dried-up old man.

Zhou Yunning paused, as if considering his words, before saying, “The emperor and the deposed empress gave their lives to protect Great Zhou from the Gu plague, sacrificing themselves through the formation. The Ministry of Rites shall oversee their funeral arrangements and give them honorable burials.”

“As you command,” Jiao Miao bowed, inwardly thinking to himself with amazement at the Ninth Prince’s magnanimity. Despite the harsh treatment he had endured in the Cold Palace, he still protected the emperor’s posthumous reputation. Such breadth of character was rare. If the Ninth Prince were to ascend the throne, he would surely become a wise ruler.

Many other ministers present were similarly impressed by the Ninth Prince’s character, silently hoping he would soon ascend to secure the stability of the realm.

The first half of the night was chaotic, the latter half filled with mourning and weeping—too chaotic to describe. Many stayed awake all night, making the one who had slept soundly until dawn seem particularly heartless.

Gao Zhen rubbed his eyes, yawned, stretched, and sat up, realizing he was no longer in the carriage. He was covered with a new brocade quilt with cloud patterns, lying on a soft fur rug. As it was already summer, a cooling jade mat had been placed beneath the rug to keep him cool.

Noticing these details, Gao Zhen was inwardly startled. In both of his lifetimes, he had never experienced such luxury. For a moment, he even worried that he had transmigrated again.

But as soon as he set foot on the floor, the door creaked open. Zhou Yunning walked in with eyes red-rimmed, and upon seeing him, immediately took two steps forward, pulled him into an embrace, and held him tightly.

Gao Zhen was still groggy and murmured, "Your Highness, where are we?"

"Jiyun Hall. The place I lived as a child." Zhou Yunning buried his face in Gao Zhen's hair, inhaling its faint fragrance.

"Oh." Gao Zhen breathed a sigh of relief—thankfully, he hadn't traveled through time, but had merely returned to the palace. He asked, "From now on, will I still be able to leave the palace?"

Zhou Yunning hesitated briefly, his arms surreptitiously tightening around Gao Zhen as he asked offhandedly, "What does A Zhen want to do outside the palace?"

"Just... after staying in the palace for too long, going out to play occasionally. Is that okay?" Gao Zhen felt that, given his lively and active nature, being cooped up in the palace for a lifetime might be a bit too much to ask.

Zhou Yunning also relaxed, saying, "When you want to go out and play, remember to tell me. I'll go with you."

"Make a secret getaway?" Gao Zhen thought it sounded quite thrilling and asked, "But now that you're the emperor, can you still make a getaway?"

Zhou Yunning chuckled softly, cupping Gao Zhen's face in his hands and gazing into his eyes. "As long as A Zhen wants it, anything is possible."

Gao Zhen blushed. Why did he have to put it so bluntly? It was a little embarrassing.