Chapter 125

Chapter 125

The room was quiet, but the people were not.

Qi Hanzhou did not move. He looked down at the hand hooked around his finger. Ying Fusheng, long convalescing, had a fair complexion with distinct knuckles, the blue veins clearly visible beneath the skin, pulsing faintly in concealment.

Knowing full well the other was not asleep, Qi Hanzhou was afraid to break the stillness.

Even such a simple hook felt like a thousand-pound shackle to Qi Hanzhou, yet he savored it willingly.

After an unknown span—perhaps a few breaths, perhaps longer—the person lying on the couch slowly opened his eyes. He lay on his side, his gaze falling on their intertwined hands. His fingertips lightly traced over Qi Hanzhou's calluses, honed over years, with a touch as delicate as a dragonfly skimming water. Qi Hanzhou's eyes grew deeper.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" Qi Hanzhou asked.

Ying Fusheng seemed to react after a moment, then said, "I woke up."

A lie. When Qi Hanzhou had returned, he had sensed the heat on him. A night of rushing was bound to exhaust this man's body. In the carriage, he had indeed been weary enough to pass out, only to wake upon returning to Prince Yan's residence. Over the years, his sleep had been light and brief; it seemed only when overworked or ill could he truly slumber deeply.

"Had a nightmare?" Qi Hanzhou asked.

The hand touching his fingertips paused slightly. From this brief change, Qi Hanzhou understood something. He drew closer, finally kneeling down, bending one knee before the couch, his movements fluid. By the time Ying Fusheng realized, the familiar scent was already near.

The confession of admiration spoken in the carriage, both knew, was ill-timed in the current political climate.

Worldly conventions, differences in status—some chasms could not be bridged in a few words. Ying Fusheng cared little for these; in his past life, he had done countless rebellious acts. Who would heed a madman's thoughts? But Qi Hanzhou was different. That confession, once spoken, might hold a different meaning for both.

"Aren't you going to handle other matters?" Ying Fusheng asked.

Qi Hanzhou said in a low voice, "I'll leave once you fall asleep."

Ying Fusheng lay on his side, watching him. Qi Hanzhou had been by his side before, even on many nights when he was awake, he could see him there. It seemed no different than before. Yet tonight, for some reason, he suddenly saw clearly the Qi Hanzhou he had so often failed to understand.

"Qi Hanzhou, I heard you," Ying Fusheng said.

Qi Hanzhou's heart trembled. He replied, "Mm."

Between them, a question and answer had long become routine.

Years of companionship meant some things needed no further words.

"Concubine Xian has likely fled. Given the caution of the Secret Faction, there have probably been changes in the palace before you returned from Western Shu," Ying Fusheng said, lying still, his voice very light. "There are still leads in the palace. For someone to help her escape, there must be a hidden network within."

Qi Hanzhou responded, "I know."

Qi Hanzhou waited quietly. Then he felt the force in his palm; Ying Fusheng shifted slightly, drawing closer. Qi Hanzhou was pulled down to sit, now so near they could see the reflections in each other's eyes.

Qi Hanzhou noticed his gaze fall, lowering to his hand. "There's nothing much to see on my hand."

"Who says?" Ying Fusheng's voice carried a drowsy languor. He spoke unhurriedly, pulling Qi Hanzhou's hand even closer as he said this. A long-dormant curiosity stirred within him. Seeing no resistance from the other, he played with his hand more freely, indulging his desire to explore.

Qi Hanzhou's hand bore many scars—between his fingers, on his palm and back—all shallow marks. These had once been hidden under his wrist guards, and Ying Fusheng could only glimpse them slightly, much like the scars large and small beneath his clothing.

What was usually invisible now seemed accessible at will.

The familiar touch took on a different meaning. Ying Fusheng drew Qi Hanzhou's hand closer, pressing it lightly against his forehead.

The touch against his brow had soothed countless headaches, but this was the first time it came so close when no headache struck. Without pain, replaced by a fresh sensation.

With such closeness, the young man's breath, warm and faint, swirled around like an intangible provocation.

Then, suddenly, Qi Hanzhou reversed their positions, grasping his hand. This move made the person on the couch pause.

"Sleep," Qi Hanzhou said.

This time, there was no reply. Ying Fusheng, with their clasped hands pressed to his forehead, seemed to gradually settle.

The person on the couch grew still.

Qi Hanzhou sat half by the bed, close enough to see his sleeping eyelashes flutter slightly.

This permitted distance slowly filled the subtle insecurity.

His gaze dropped. When Ying Fusheng's hand rested in his, the image that came to mind was of him playing chess. Years had passed, and Ying Fusheng still didn't fully understand the game, his favorite pastime being to toy with the black stones. Now, that same hand lay in his palm.

Qi Hanzhou suddenly understood what it meant to be unable to let go.

He waited until the sky began to lighten. The person on the couch had fallen into deep slumber, without nightmares or starts, truly sleeping.

"Sleep well."

Qi Hanzhou looked outside.

He knew this night of bloodshed was just beginning.

In the palace, the Brocade Guard conducted a thorough search of the rear palace overnight. All attendants from Concubine Xian's palace were taken to the Imperial Prison. The entire rear palace had never been so dead silent; every attendant dared not speak, watching as those connected to Concubine Xian were led away one by one. Her corpse lay in the hall, where the Brocade Guard's coroner was examining it.

On the palace paths, two attendants slipped away quietly, heading to the Palace of Benevolent Peace.

In the Palace of Benevolent Peace, the Dowager Empress had uncharacteristically stayed up all night. From the incident at Prince Yan's residence to the present, reports had been delivered to her through the Xiao family's spies.

She looked at the secret letters before her. One was from Empress Xu, reporting that tonight in the palace, the Xiao family's choice to expose the Light Garment Guard was a risky move. Xiao Yan's timely action had stabilized the Emperor's trust in the Xiao family and turned the secret alliance between Prince Yan and the Qi family from danger to safety.

"Where is she?" the Dowager asked.

"The Empress has just left Concubine Xian's palace. She sent this letter to you through someone," Lady Yu said.

The Dowager read the letter's contents, her expression shifting. Her brows knit tightly, and she stood, asking, "What is the situation at Prince Yan's residence?"

"His Highness summoned a physician upon returning from the palace. The entire residence is under lockdown. Before leaving, the Qianqing Palace called for a royal physician to consult," Lady Yu observed the Dowager's expression, knowing that the Prince's health had always been her greatest worry. Court faction struggles, constant mental exertion—heavy burdens pressed upon him...

"An alliance with the Qi family is a double-edged sword," the Dowager knew the Qi family's importance to the Emperor and the pros and cons of this secret alliance. It was not just about outcomes but also the Emperor's stance. "Go find Xiao Yan. He knows what to do."

As the Dowager's people moved discreetly, urgent palace reports flowed ceaselessly through the night. The Brocade Guard, carrying secret edicts from the Qianqing Palace, sealed off the Second Prince's residence. The Emperor's decisive attitude swept through the capital overnight.

Inside the Kunning Palace, all was silent. Empress Xu looked at the secret report sent by her attendants. The coroner's confidential findings on Concubine Xian's death had been delivered to her, and on her desk lay several other secret letters. Years ago, when the Second Prince followed the Xu family, her shrewd father had investigated his identity, accidentally discovering that the timing of his gestation in Concubine Xian's womb was off. That had once been leverage her father thought he could use against the Second Prince, allowing him to operate within the Xu family.

Little did they expect that what seemed like a palace concubine's secret—a seemingly powerless prince—would, in the end, trigger the Xu family's downfall. And Grand Secretary Xu likely never imagined that the secret he suppressed was not a petty affair of an imperial consort's infidelity but the scheme of a mysterious woman attempting to restore a fallen dynasty, swapping identities.

"Has it been sent to His Majesty?" Empress Xu asked.

"The Brocade Guard should have discovered it by now. The secret records left by Lord Xu have all been sent out," the attendant looked at the white-haired woman before her, promoted to the Empress's side after Shuang Yue's death. She had witnessed the Empress's silence and few words over the years. "Your Majesty, giving all this away, won't you keep something for your own protection?"

At the mention of self-protection, the Empress's expression gradually cooled.

If she could not utterly destroy those treacherous rebels who schemed against her, she would find no peace day or night. She pressed a hand to her abdomen, recalling the daily flow of medicinal ingredients into Prince Yan's residence, the numerous medical records of worsening conditions... She needed no protection. She needed to see those who had schemed against her and her loved ones die one by one before her eyes.

"It doesn't matter if she fled," Empress Xu said softly. "Then her son's life will only serve as a stepping stone."

When the Prince Yan residence fell silent, dawn was breaking, and no one in the capital could sleep that night. Within the manor, Weng Yanqing was terrified when he received the items Qi Hanzhou had the Light Garment Guard prepare, and he rushed straight to the Shen residence, where Shen Changcun had been awake all night. From the moment trouble hit the Prince Yan residence to the heads of the ministries entering the palace, some things had long been destined.

"Is it really like this?" Shen Changcun looked at the items Weng Yanqing had prepared, considering them while thinking about the movements of the ministers. "Lord Hu secretly sent me a letter after he left the palace."

Weng Yanqing blinked in surprise. "Does that mean..."

"What was brought up in the palace tonight was the Qi family and Prince Yan. The Second Prince dared to pull this scheme now, and Prince Yan acted to protect the Qi family—that's true righteousness." Shen Changcun and Hu Buyu both served in the Ministry of War. The Secret Faction had already stirred up too many power struggles among the court factions. If the Qi family got dragged into it, the Dayuan Dynasty would find it difficult to remain stable. By taking this step, Ying Fusheng had essentially given the Qi family a get-out-of-jail-free card, but it also put him right in the crosshairs of the factional fight.

Shen Yunfei, standing nearby, said, "Over at the Palace Guard, I took the opportunity to destroy some things; they won't pose a threat to His Highness." He blamed himself for being too late—if he had seen the Yun family's schemes coming sooner, he might have been able to stop them earlier, and His Highness wouldn't have had to go that far in front of the Emperor.

"It's fate and timing," Shen Changcun said, rising in a daze. "I guess the time has come."

At the Minister of Personnel's mansion, Meng Jinyuan paced back and forth. That night, others in the Emperor's presence might not have understood, but having served the Emperor since he was the Crown Prince, when the Emperor brandished the secret letter from Concubine Xian, Meng was suddenly reminded of something that happened over twenty years ago. If these Secret Faction members were truly remnants of the former dynasty, then some matters were not so simple.

Lady Meng, shocked to see her husband so agitated, said, "My lord, has something happened?"

Meng Jinyuan shook his head. The words he had spoken to Liu Yunshi that day seemed to be playing out. He looked toward the palace, pondered for a moment, then walked to his desk. Picking up his brush, he made his decision with a heavy heart.

Only a few officials knew what had happened in the Qianqing Palace that night. The next morning at court, the civil and military officials learned that the Second Prince had formed a faction, plotted against the Eldest Prince, and intended to rebel. He was sentenced to execution. The execution was set for three days later; when the imperial decree was issued, the entire court was stunned. This time, even the Eldest Prince Faction and the Yun family behind it chose silence. The old foxes knew what was really going on, but the matter could only be handled in this way.

The Second Prince's mother, Concubine Xian, had hanged herself in the palace, while the Second Prince’s Consort and her unborn child had vanished without a trace.

The Chief of Imperial Guard, Ji Wuming, received orders, and arrest warrants for the Second Prince’s Consort were issued from the capital, sent overnight to all parts of Dayuan.

The Second Prince was captured and imprisoned in the Imperial Prison, where he was guarded and interrogated day and night by Imperial Guards. Until the day of his execution, as the executioner's blade fell and blood spilled, the Second Prince said nothing more, as if all his madness had ended that night in the palace.

His head fell, and that was that.

In the hidden tunnels beneath the Second Prince's manor, the Imperial Guards found secret scrolls about the former dynasty. A prince of the Dayuan Dynasty was hiding a large number of such records and even kept assassins from the former dynasty on his payroll—an eerie hint of something deeper.

As for the key figure, Prince Yan, he took several days off from court due to illness. The Emperor not only did not blame him but also sent plenty of health-boosting gifts. The Yun family, which had been stirring, suddenly went quiet. No one knew what was happening behind the scenes, but there was a vague feeling that the winds of power in the court were about to change.

The Second Prince had ordered the disgraced official Song Yu to assassinate the Eldest Prince, but Chu Taiyi saved the Eldest Prince's life. On the day the Eldest Prince returned to the capital, an imperial decree arrived at his residence. Considering the Eldest Prince's past merits, the Emperor granted him the title of Prince Yu, with the three southwestern prefectures as his domain. When the news spread, those in the know understood that the Eldest Prince had completely stepped back from the fight for the throne.

Unknown storms brewed in the court, and endless unrest seemed to foreshadow something.

On the fifth day after the Second Prince's execution, at morning court, Minister of Personnel Meng Jinyuan presented a petition before all the civil and military officials. Amid the court's strange and turbulent upheaval, he declared—

"I request the appointment of a Crown Prince."