Chapter 62

“The sudden passing of the Emperor has posed a dilemma regarding who will handle the national mourning for the three imperial princes.”

Mo Yin summoned all three imperial princes to the study.

Due to the difficulties in producing heirs in the previous generation, the Emperor had devoted himself to this matter from the start of his reign. Despite the efforts of the imperial doctor, he had only managed to father three sons.

The Emperor always believed that Mo Yin was frail and not long for this world, unaware that he himself had been weakened by the constant torment.

Mo Yin had subtly tampered with the Emperor’s daily supplements, causing him endless sleepless nights and suffering.

He could have easily made the Emperor gradually fall ill and naturally pass away without anyone suspecting him. But where was the fun in that?

He wanted everyone to suspect him but dared not speak. Their silence was part of his success.

They hated him to the bone, but they feared him more than they hated him. They were afraid to speak out, only able to bow and obey.

The issue of who would handle the mourning for the Emperor became a puzzle with his sudden demise and the lack of a designated heir.

Mo Yin summoned all three imperial princes to his study.

The Emperor had faced difficulties in producing heirs, and so had devoted himself to this task from the beginning of his reign. However, his efforts had yielded only three sons.

The Emperor always believed Mo Yin was frail and not long for this world, unaware that he himself was being weakened by the constant torment.

Mo Yin had subtly tampered with the Emperor’s daily supplements, causing him endless sleepless nights and suffering.

He could have easily made the Emperor gradually fall ill and naturally pass away without anyone suspecting him. But where was the fun in that?

He wanted everyone to suspect him but dared not speak. Their silence was part of his success.

They hated him to the bone, but they feared him more than they hated him. They were afraid to speak out, only able to bow and obey.

The issue of who would handle the mourning for the Emperor became a puzzle with his sudden demise and the lack of a designated heir.

Mo Yin summoned all three imperial princes to his study.

The Emperor had faced difficulties in producing heirs, and so had devoted himself to this task from the beginning of his reign. However, his efforts had yielded only three sons.

The Emperor always believed Mo Yin was frail and not long for this world, unaware that he himself was being weakened by the constant torment.

Mo Yin had subtly tampered with the Emperor’s daily supplements, causing him endless sleepless nights and suffering.

He could have easily made the Emperor gradually fall ill and naturally pass away without anyone suspecting him. But where was the fun in that?

He wanted everyone to suspect him but dared not speak. Their silence was part of his success.

They hated him to the bone, but they feared him more than they hated him. They were afraid to speak out, only able to bow and obey.

The issue of who would handle the mourning for the Emperor became a puzzle with his sudden demise and the lack of a designated heir.

Mo Yin summoned all three imperial princes to his study.

The Emperor had faced difficulties in producing heirs, and so had devoted himself to this task from the beginning of his reign. However, his efforts had yielded only three sons.

The Emperor always believed Mo Yin was frail and not long for this world, unaware that he himself was being weakened by the constant torment.

Mo Yin had subtly tampered with the Emperor’s daily supplements, causing him endless sleepless nights and suffering.

He could have easily made the Emperor gradually fall ill and naturally pass away without anyone suspecting him. But where was the fun in that?

He wanted everyone to suspect him but dared not speak. Their silence was part of his success.

They hated him to the bone, but they feared him more than they hated him. They were afraid to speak out, only able to bow and obey.

The issue of who would handle the mourning for the Emperor became a puzzle with his sudden demise and the lack of a designated heir.

Mo Yin summoned all three imperial princes to his study.

The Emperor had faced difficulties in producing heirs, and so had devoted himself to this task from the beginning of his reign. However, his efforts had yielded only three sons.

The Emperor always believed Mo Yin was frail and not long for this world, unaware that he himself was being weakened by the constant torment.

Mo Yin had subtly tampered with the Emperor’s daily supplements, causing him endless sleepless nights and suffering.

He could have easily made the Emperor gradually fall ill and naturally pass away without anyone suspecting him. But where was the fun in that?

He wanted everyone to suspect him but dared not speak. Their silence was part of his success.

They hated him to the bone, but they feared him more than they hated him. They were afraid to speak out, only able to bow and obey.

The issue of who would handle the mourning for the Emperor became a puzzle with his sudden demise and the lack of a designated heir.

Mo Yin summoned all three imperial princes to his study.

The Emperor had faced difficulties in producing heirs, and so had devoted himself to this task from the beginning of his reign. However, his efforts had yielded only three sons.

The Emperor always believed Mo Yin was frail and not long for this world, unaware that he himself was being weakened by the constant torment.

Mo Yin had subtly tampered with the Emperor’s daily supplements, causing him endless sleepless nights and suffering.

He could have easily made the Emperor gradually fall ill and naturally pass away without anyone suspecting him. But where was the fun in that?

He wanted everyone to suspect him but dared not speak. Their silence was part of his success.

They hated him to the bone, but they feared him more than they hated him. They were afraid to speak out, only able to bow and obey.

The issue of who would handle the mourning for the Emperor became a puzzle with his sudden demise and the lack of a designated heir.

Mo Yin summoned all three imperial princes to his study.

The Emperor had faced difficulties in producing heirs, and so had devoted himself to this task from the beginning of his reign. However, his efforts had yielded only three sons.

The Emperor always believed Mo Yin was frail and not long for this world, unaware that he himself was being weakened by the constant torment.

Mo Yin had subtly tampered with the Emperor’s daily supplements, causing him endless sleepless nights and suffering.

He could have easily made the Emperor gradually fall ill and naturally pass away without anyone suspecting him. But where was the fun in that?

He wanted everyone to suspect him but dared not speak. Their silence was part of his success.

They hated him to the bone, but they feared him more than they hated him. They were afraid to speak out, only able to bow and obey.

The issue of who would handle the mourning for the Emperor became a puzzle with his sudden demise and the lack of a designated heir.

Mo Yin summoned all three imperial princes to his study.

The Emperor had faced difficulties in producing heirs, and so had devoted himself to this task from the beginning of his reign. However, his efforts had yielded only three sons.

The Emperor always believed Mo Yin was frail and not long for this world, unaware that he himself was being weakened by the constant torment.

Mo Yin had subtly tampered with the Emperor’s daily supplements, causing him endless sleepless nights and suffering.

He could have easily made the Emperor gradually fall ill and naturally pass away without anyone suspecting him. But

“Falsifying a decree?” Mo Yin chuckled, tossing the decree aside. He stood up, causing the eldest prince to instinctively shield his younger brothers, taking a cautious step back.

When they entered the study, Mo Yin had remained seated. Upon seeing them, he didn’t bother with any formalities, displaying extreme arrogance.

The eldest prince watched Mo Yin warily, but as Mo Yin turned away and donned his crimson official robe, stepping onto the platform behind the imperial desk, he glanced at the three fearful princes with a chilling calmness. Seated on the golden throne, the crimson robe seemed to scratch the surface of the dragon chair like a wound.

Mo Yin picked up a brush, then pulled out another decree, quickly writing something down before tossing it aside.

As the decree landed at his feet, the eldest prince pushed his brothers further back, realizing with horror that the newly written decree matched his father’s handwriting exactly!

“Your Highness.”

The eldest prince looked up abruptly.

Mo Yin stood up, his tall figure exuding a chilling aura, his face adorned with a smile. “This is an authentic decree. How can you call it falsification?”

The eldest prince instantly understood.

There was no real decree! It was all written by these traitors!

“You…”

Mo Yin smiled, his expression freezing the eldest prince’s tongue.

“Your Highness, I have a skill that allows me to mimic anyone’s handwriting. I can forge any decree I wish. But even if I don’t, who dares to say it’s not legitimate?”

The so-called dignity and pride of the princes were shattered.

Before this man, they were nothing but ordinary children. Their noble lineage meant nothing to him. He was willing to let them be puppets, which was his greatest mercy.

“Second Prince.”

Mo Yin beckoned to them lightly. “Come here.”

The second prince was already in tears.

He was not as old as his brother nor as ignorant as his younger brother. His fear was the most obvious, causing him to tremble and unable to move.

“Minister…” The eldest prince hurriedly spoke up, “I want to be the crown prince. I can be the crown prince!”

It was not about seizing power for himself, but about being a puppet for his two younger brothers.

Mo Yin gently touched his face with his fingers, looking at the three frightened princes. “It’s too late.”

***

The journey back to the capital from the border was long and arduous. Even with a swift march, it would take at least three months for the army to return to the capital.

Three months was enough for many changes to occur.

What’s more, the army’s return to the capital required imperial permission. Returning without orders would be seen as treason.

Under these circumstances, where would the imperial decree come from?

Even if they claimed to be loyal to the crown, loyal to whom? And if they raised the banner of loyalty, it would imply there were traitors within the court. Who were the traitors?

He Xuan selected ten thousand trusted soldiers. Ultimately, he divided them into three groups. One thousand would accompany him on a swift journey back to the capital, which was justifiable for the mourning period. The remaining three thousand would follow closely behind in case of unforeseen circumstances. The remaining six thousand would secure communication along the way. If the situation changed, they would immediately notify the main army to return to the capital!

With everything arranged, He Xuan set out on the journey back to the capital with his one thousand cavalry soldiers, setting off into the night towards an unknown future.

The entire army rode day and night. At each relay station, they changed horses, rested briefly, And then immediately mounted up again. These soldiers had been through battles, accustomed to sleepless marches.

In just ten days, He Xuan had led his elite cavalry unit to the nearest relay station outside the capital.

In the distance, General He could see a line of people seemingly waiting for someone at the entrance to the relay station.

“Halt.”

He Xuan reined in his horse, and his men followed suit. The sound of hooves stirred up clouds of dust. The people at the entrance remained calm. One of them stepped forward, bowing to He Xuan. “General He.”

He Xuan endured consecutive days of outdoor exposure, his face covered in dust and fatigue. Beneath his knitted brows, his eyes gleamed coldly. He remained silent, but his horse snorted loudly.

The leader of the group appeared composed. “General, it must have been a tiresome journey. We have prepared food, drinks, and fresh clothes at the relay station.”

He Xuan scrutinized the figure before him. With a slight lift of his hand holding the reins, one of his guards dismounted and immediately attacked the group with a sword.

“Intend to live,” He Xuan said indifferently.

The group calmly drew their swords to defend against the heavy blows while addressing him, “We were ordered by the Taishi to greet the general. What does the general mean by this?”

“Hold.”

The skirmish lasted only a moment. He Xuan’s guards skillfully retreated with their long swords, protecting He Xuan’s front, while he urged his horse forward, closing in on the armed men. “Ordered by the Taishi?”

The leader replied, “I am Sun Mao from the Imperial Command.”

The Imperial Command…

He Xuan’s eyes cut through him like steel blades. His cracked lips moved slightly. “You mean Zǐguī had you wait for me here?”

Sun Mao felt a chill.

“Since the ‘Du Yu’ incident, no one dares to mention ‘Zǐguī’ except the Emperor.”

He cautiously replied, “I am here under the Grand Preceptor’s orders to await the general.”

“He knew I would return?”

Sun Mao remained silent.

He Xuan lowered his head as if speaking to himself, “With his intelligence, he could naturally anticipate it.”

Sun Mao pretended not to hear anything and dutifully said, “General, everything is prepared inside. Please rest.”

He Xuan still kept his head lowered. After a moment, he spurred his horse, causing it to whinny in pain and bolt past the armed men. His guards followed suit, kicking up dust as they galloped away, leaving the Imperial Command members to retreat to the relay station amidst the swirling dust.

Sun Mao gazed at the billowing yellow dust, furrowing his brows. “The Grand Preceptor truly predicts everything.”

One of his companions sheathed his sword crisply, smiling coldly. “This man refuses the wine; he will face the consequences. Perhaps he has yet to experience the Grand Preceptor’s methods.”

“Having served at the Imperial Command for just an hour, one would know that men like the Grand Preceptor won’t show mercy to anyone.”

He Xuan felt a complex mix of emotions.

During the past ten days of travel, he had hardly thought about anything. Perhaps because whenever he stopped to think, he felt on the verge of madness.

These Imperial Command members appearing suddenly at the relay station outside the capital forced him to consider his current situation and why he had returned to the capital.

Gripping the reins tightly, the wind made his clothes as stiff as a shell, and the fierce wind whipped his face and head painfully.

Zǐguī.

Mo Zǐguī—

After half an hour of forceful riding, the city gate finally loomed ahead.

The horse was exhausted, its hooves heavy, and the once rigid man finally showed mercy to the horse, halting the procession beneath the city gate.

Under the scorching summer sun, the flame seemed to engulf everything. Behind the dim stone walls, a crimson figure stood silently. Backlit, he appeared almost surreal to He Xuan. A thousand days and nights of separation, if called longing, seemed too light. Reunited after so long, he, clothed in red, looked just like the past, with those brows, those eyes, indistinguishable from his midnight dreams.

“Zǐguī…”

He Xuan’s lips moved almost inaudibly, too soft, like a sigh.

The figure on the city gate seemed to hear his call. The arm behind him moved lightly, and the red sleeves shimmered like blood under the blazing sun.

Mo Yin gazed down at the man looking up at him from below, his arm moving gently forward as he softly commanded, “Release the arrows.”