Chapter 322 Regicide

Chapter 322: Regicide

The dead of night was usually the quietest time, but now it was noisy and chaotic.

Yet the commotion inside and outside the temporary palace differed markedly.

The uproar outside stemmed from a suspected fire at the imperial mausoleum, drawing crowds from all directions. Inside the palace, it was a scene of slaughter.

Upon hearing the clash of weapons, other consorts—like Noble Consort Shu—either guarded their young children or, if childless, hid themselves, trembling as they awaited dawn.

“Your Highness, someone is knocking on the gate!” a palace maid cried, bursting into the room with a terrified expression.

Noble Consort Shu’s face turned pale.

Why would anyone knock on her gate?

Hearing the faint sounds of battle, she was terrified—yet still clung to the hope that nothing would happen to her.

Even if this were a coup, wasn’t that the new emperor’s affair? What did it have to do with her and her son?

She was already a consort dowager, and her son was barely ten years old. Why would rebels come here? Would they massacre every prince and princess?

How many men could the rebels possibly have? They had to break into the palace to seize the new emperor—yet still spare troops to capture other princes?

If they truly possessed enough soldiers for all this, how could they have concealed them during peacetime?

Noble Consort Shu was no fool; she sensed something deeply amiss.

“Fifth Prince, wait in the room.”

She instructed her son and stepped out, her face ashen.

The knocking grew louder, more insistent—pounding against her heart.

After a long silence with no response, the knocking ceased—and a low voice spoke: “Please open the gate, Dowager Noble Consort Shu. We mean no harm to the Fifth Prince; we are here to escort him.”

“Who… are you?” Noble Consort Shu struggled to suppress her fear, yet her voice still trembled.

“Open the gate, and you will be told.”

“I—” She gritted her teeth. “And what if I refuse?”

A pause. Then the voice turned icy: “Then we shall have no choice but to force the gate—and later apologize for the intrusion to you and the Fifth Prince.”

Noble Consort Shu pressed her lips tightly shut and remained silent.

With a thunderous crash, the courtyard gate shook violently. Though palace maids braced it from within, each successive impact weakened it further—until, after one final blow, it gave way.

The maids holding it were flung to the ground, revealing the faces of those who had broken in.

At their head stood a face all too familiar. Noble Consort Shu’s eyes widened in disbelief: “The Heir of Prince Fu?”

Though consorts resided within the inner palace, they often encountered imperial clan members—such as the Heir of Prince Fu—at palace banquets.

“Dowager Noble Consort Shu.” The Heir of Prince Fu offered a cupped-fist salute. “Your nephew summons the Fifth Prince to the main hall by imperial decree.”

“Imperial decree? What imperial decree?” Noble Consort Shu instinctively stepped back.

The sight of the Heir of Prince Fu clad in bloodstained armor shattered any trust she might have placed in his words.

The Heir of Prince Fu raised his hands in a solemn salute toward heaven: “The late emperor’s deathbed edict.”

“What?” Noble Consort Shu staggered in shock, blurting out, “How could there be a deathbed edict from the late emperor?”

The Heir of Prince Fu fixed her with a penetrating gaze: “There naturally is.”

Noble Consort Shu suddenly understood.

Prince Fu had already staged a coup—the late emperor’s edict was plainly forged!

But why drag her Fifth Prince into this mess?

Fear. Despair. The crushing weight of every emotion pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe—yet thinking of her son, she dared not collapse.

She bit down hard on her tongue: “It is late at night. Even if there is something to announce, this is not the proper time. Please return at dawn, Heir of Prince Fu.”

The Heir of Prince Fu smiled—a smile laced with warning: “Should the Dowager Noble Consort defy the decree, even as the Fifth Prince’s mother, your nephew will have no choice but to act disrespectfully.”

At a moment when not a second could be spared, courtesy and deference had to be set aside.

With a wave of his hand, the Heir of Prince Fu signaled two guards forward.

“I’ll go with you—don’t hurt my mother.”

The Fifth Prince dashed over and stood before Noble Consort Shu.

The tears she had held back spilled instantly: “Fifth Prince—who told you to come out!”

He looked up, meeting the gaze of his cousin—who, in his memory, had always been kind and friendly: “Heir of Prince Fu—don’t hurt my mother.”

The Heir of Prince Fu offered a warm smile: “Rest assured, Fifth Prince. So long as you comply with the decree, we shall treat the Dowager Noble Consort with utmost respect.”

The Fifth Prince nodded firmly: “Good.”

The Heir of Prince Fu curved his lips into a smile and took the Fifth Prince’s hand.

“Fifth Prince!” Noble Consort Shu cried out in anguish, lunging forward to chase them.

The Heir of Prince Fu shot her a cold glance: “Dowager Noble Consort Shu should also consider the Fifth Prince’s safety.”

Her steps froze. Helplessly, she watched as the Fifth Prince was led away by the Heir of Prince Fu—vanishing into the night—before staggering and collapsing to the ground.

A sudden, stronger gust rushed in through the courtyard gate, chilling her body and soul—as if she had plunged into an icy abyss.

That same night, the most agile unit of imperial guards moved swiftly toward a single, precise target—the new emperor’s bedchamber.

The new emperor was intercepted just as he reached the entrance.

“Yang Zhen, you—” A blood-dripping blade flashed before his eyes—and the rest of his words died in his throat.

Deputy Palace Commander Yang Zhen, gripping the weapon, advanced step by step. The new emperor, forced back by the sword’s edge, retreated—step by step—until he was driven back inside the hall.

Yan Rong—the eunuch who had replaced Xue Quan and served as the new emperor’s trusted confidant since his days as crown prince—angrily demanded: “Yang Zhen! How dare you commit treason!”

Yang Zhen cast him a contemptuous glance: “Is there room for a eunuch like you to speak here? Say another word—and I’ll send you straight to the afterlife.”

“You—”

"Yan Rong, step back."

"Your Majesty—" Yan Rong, pale-faced, had no choice but to retreat to the side.

It was already late at night, and few attendants were serving in the imperial bedchamber, all of whom had now been subdued.

"Yang Zhen, do you know the consequences of rebellion?" the new emperor asked angrily.

"Rebellion?" Yang Zhen laughed. "I have been nothing but loyal to the late emperor, harboring no disloyalty."

"Then what is this you are doing?"

"I am merely following the imperial edict."

"Edict? What edict?" the new emperor asked, echoing the same question from Consort Shu.

"The late emperor's testamentary edict." Prince Fu stepped out from behind Yang Zhen, watching the new emperor’s face suddenly change color, feeling great satisfaction.

The fear and anxiety that had plagued him since he ascended the throne at the late Crown Prince’s funeral had finally eased at this moment.

"Where is the edict?" the new emperor demanded.

Prince Fu pulled an imperial edict from his sleeve, holding it up: "This is the testamentary edict left by the late emperor, entrusted to me for safekeeping. Once the late emperor passed away, the Fifth Prince was to succeed to the throne."

When he, as a regent, had collaborated with Zhu Xiang, who oversaw state affairs, it had been all too easy to procure several blank imperial decrees with the imperial seal already affixed.

One of those had been used on the day of the Immortal Banquet, but it had failed to trick the Crown Prince into taking his own life, leaving them in a difficult position ever since.

Fortunately, this time, this decree need not deceive this ill-fated new emperor; it only needed to silence the officials afterwards.

The new emperor’s gaze fell on the edict in Prince Fu’s hand and he said coldly, "Another forged edict. I wasn’t fooled at the Immortal Banquet, so why would I fall for it today?"

"And what if you don’t fall for it?" Prince Fu smiled with a triumphant smile, stroking his beard.

Upon seeing this prearranged signal, Yang Zhen, standing nearby, raised his long blade without a word and swung it toward the new emperor.

Prince Fu’s eyes gleamed with delight.

What need was there to force an abdication or proceed slowly? Plans that seemed thorough were actually riskier. There was no point in saying too much; killing the man first was what mattered most.