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As everyone remained stunned, Duan Yunfeng reacted quickly—he turned toward the hall entrance, knelt down, and prepared to receive the decree.

He was clearly a natural-born performer. It was as if the person who had once led an army to attack Luoyang and nearly scared the emperor half to death was someone else entirely. Now, beaming with joy, he said, “I knew it—His Majesty is the Son of Heaven, blessed by divine fate. Of course, nothing would happen to him!”

“Eunuch, please read the edict.”

Inwardly, Duan Yunfeng thought:

Li Jichang wanted to transfer him to Bianzhou, to keep him under close watch—no way that was happening.

He would avenge An Youliang without a doubt.

This imperial edict calling him to serve the emperor came at exactly the right moment. Whether it was genuine or not didn’t really matter to him.

If Emperor Jianing Xiao Huan was truly in Fengxiang, then perfect—An Youliang was already out of the picture, and making a theater-obsessed emperor obedient would be a piece of cake.

If the emperor wasn’t in Fengxiang and had already been killed by An Youliang, then it was simply a matter of placing a new heir on the throne.

Encouraged by Duan Yunfeng’s leadership, the court ministers one by one knelt down to await the formal reading of the decree.

Seeing this, Li Jichang had no choice but to suppress his anger and descend from his seat. He walked to the front of the assembly and knelt as well, lowering his gaze and saying, “Eunuch, please read the edict.”

The eunuch cleared his throat and proclaimed in a loud voice:
“Rebel An Youliang is an arrogant and lawless man who has repeatedly forged imperial decrees in My name, disrupting the court and harming the loyal and righteous. The King of the North, Duan Yu, has always upheld loyalty and justice. The decree blaming him for attacking Hedong was not issued by Me. Now that the traitor holds Me hostage in Fengxiang, I suffer day and night in worry. Only the King of the North and his son can be entrusted with this task. Therefore, I decree: the Heir of the King of the North is to raise an army at once and proceed to Fengxiang to rescue Me and restore peace to the nation!”

Li Jichang narrowed his eyes. How could it be so coincidental? There had been no word from the emperor for days, yet just as he was about to propose relocating the capital, this secret edict suddenly arrived from Fengxiang? He cast a sinister look at the eunuch and began, “This decree…”

But before he could finish the sentence “…must be verified to prevent someone from forging an imperial command—”

“His Majesty is unharmed—this is a blessing to all of Great Yan! That traitor An Youliang dared to hold the emperor hostage—such audacity!” Duan Yunfeng had already taken the decree with both hands. Facing the hall entrance, he knelt on one knee and declared, “I accept the edict. I shall raise an army immediately to proceed to Fengxiang, return His Majesty to the palace, and eliminate the traitor. Long live the Emperor!”

His process of accepting the edict and expressing gratitude flowed seamlessly, leaving no space for Li Jichang to interject.

Li Jichang coughed lightly, forcing down the fury in his chest. He tried to remain composed. “It is only natural for the heir of the King of the North to be emotional upon hearing that the emperor is safe. But this edict…”

“The King of the North… has always been loyal!”

At that moment, Wang Muchuan—who had been silent behind Duan Yunfeng—suddenly turned red-eyed. He stumbled forward, and his eyes, already rimmed with tears, now brimmed over. Choking up, he cried out, “The Heir of the King of the North, Duan Yunfeng, is the pillar of Great Yan! He holds up the collapsing roof, turns back the crashing waves! His heart is pure as the sun and moon bear witness!”

With that, he dropped to his knees behind Duan Yunfeng. “Though I am but a humble scholar with nothing to my name, I am willing to follow the heir to Fengxiang to serve the emperor and give my life for the court!”

Li Jichang: “……”

Duan Yunfeng: “……”

Even Duan Yunfeng was stunned by the sincerity and drama in Wang Muchuan’s speech. For a moment, he almost believed he truly was the sole loyalist left in all of Great Yan.

By the time Wang Muchuan finished crying, Li Jichang finally managed to speak. He raised his voice, “This decree—”

“I am willing to go as well!”

The Assistant Minister of Rites, standing beside Wang Muchuan, stepped forward.

Under the rallying influence of the venerable and charismatic Wang Muchuan, the old officials of the Yan court—silent for so long—seemed suddenly revived, like withered trees absorbing spring rain. One by one, they knelt behind Duan Yunfeng, pleading to join the expedition.

In the blink of an eye, more than half the court knelt behind him. The morning sun cast slanting rays across the hall, forming a stark line of light and shadow between them and Li Jichang at the front.

Together, they shouted:

“We are willing to follow the Heir of the King of the North to Fengxiang and serve the Emperor!”

In the abruptly silent hall—

“Good…”

“Good.”

“Good!”

Half of Li Jichang’s face was shrouded in shadow, while the other half forced out a smile. His shoulders shook with it as he let out three resounding cries of “Good!” His eyes shifted as he slowly turned to look at Duan Yunfeng. The two stood facing each other.

“Then I shall await your triumphant return to the capital, Your Grace,” Li Jichang said. “Once His Majesty returns to the city, I will step down from my position as Regent and return the power to him.”

He seemed to have completely reined in his original ambitions. For the rest of the court session, Li Jichang did not mention relocating the capital or appointing Duan Yunfeng as Prefect of Bianzhou again.

After court was dismissed, Duan Yunfeng and several of his generals, along with Wang Muchuan, walked out of the Jingzhao Office. The sky above was thick with dark clouds that obscured the midday sun, a faint omen of coming rain. A biting, cold wind blew across their faces. On both sides of the government office, the imperial guards stood in rows clad in iron armor, dense as a black tide—an even more oppressive sight than the stormy sky above.

Duan Yunfeng was just about to take the reins of his horse from a waiting attendant when—

“Please wait, Your Grace!” someone called out. It was a close attendant of Li Jichang’s. He bowed respectfully and said, “My lord has prepared a farewell banquet for you in the side hall of the Jingzhao Office.”

Duan Yunfeng exchanged a glance with his deputy general, Song Shiyu. He hadn’t even spoken yet when—

“My good nephew.” Li Jichang had already walked over under escort by a squad of imperial guards. Behind him was General Han Hu, the current commander of the palace guards. Han Hu wore shining silver armor and carried a long halberd, his towering figure like a mountain.

Li Jichang looked at Duan Yunfeng with a smile. “Soon you’ll be marching to Fengxiang. Let today’s banquet serve as a send-off, if only out of the friendship I shared with your father. Won’t you give me that honor?”

Behind Duan Yunfeng, his Silver Spear Guard—though an elite force—seemed like a mere stream merging into the vast ocean of the thousands-strong Black Armor Guards.

“You say it as if I’m unwilling,” Duan Yunfeng replied calmly, showing no sign of fear in the face of the Chu army’s pressure. “Even if it’s only for the favor of letting me pass through the city that day, I will certainly attend the banquet. It’s just that…”

He turned to his deputy, Song Shiyu. “I had promised to accompany my wife to Baima Temple on the outskirts of the city today to offer incense. I’m afraid I’ll have to send my deputy in my place.”

Li Jichang stroked his beard, his gaze pausing briefly on Song Shiyu before he chuckled. “Of course, no problem at all.”

Duan Yunfeng looked at Song Shiyu. “Return to the General’s Residence and tell my wife I won’t be back for lunch… you know the way to the outskirts, don’t you?”

Song Shiyu paused for a moment, then quickly understood the unspoken message behind Duan Yunfeng’s words. He nodded. “I do.”

The 30,000-strong army of the King of the North was currently stationed just south of Luoyang. If anything went wrong at Li Jichang’s farewell banquet, this was Duan Yunfeng’s way of having the princess evacuated and preparing a counterattack.

Duan Yunfeng patted him on the shoulder. “Go.”

Li Jichang silently watched as Song Shiyu mounted his horse and rode off under the watchful eyes of all present.

…

Side Hall, Jingzhao Office

Crimson lacquered pillars towered above, carved with dragons and phoenixes that seemed almost alive. Dozens of sandalwood tables were arranged on either side. This hall, originally used by the Jingzhao Office to entertain guests, was now being put to full use by Li Jichang.

A veiled Hu dancer stood in the center of the hall, gracefully dancing to the music. Her gauzy garments swirled around the beams and pillars like a swallow in flight, creating a dreamlike illusion of the gentle rivers of the south. The contrast with the solemn Silver Spear Guards standing on either side of the hall was striking.

As wine flowed and the banquet progressed, night seemed to fall completely outside. It became impossible to tell whether it was still day or already dark.

Li Jichang, flanked by two beautiful dancers, was visibly drunk. His face was flushed, and he had an arm wrapped around the slim waist of one of the women. He glanced over the guest tables, then pointed a finger. “Someone—pour my dear nephew a drink!”

The other dancer by his side understood immediately and stepped down, approaching Duan Yunfeng. She lifted the wine pot and, swaying seductively, leaned toward his lap.

But Duan Yunfeng turned slightly to the side, avoiding her. His palm covered the rim of his wine cup, stopping her from pouring.

“No need…” Duan Yunfeng said lazily, his movements slightly unsteady. “I can pour it myself.”

When the dancer saw this, she didn’t dare try to pour wine for Duan Yunfeng again and instead turned hesitantly to Li Jichang for instruction.

Li Jichang leaned back and let out a loud laugh. “My dear nephew really is keeping himself chaste for the princess, huh? Hahaha! What a pity—my daughter and you simply have no fate.”

Duan Yunfeng smiled mildly. “King of Chu must be quite drunk. Your daughter is sure to find an even better match.”

“Is that so…” Li Jichang’s gaze turned vague as he gave a half-smile. Then his expression sharpened as he barked at the dancer, “What kind of host lets a guest pour their own wine? Get out of here!”

The dancer fled in a flurry.

Li Jichang’s eyes wandered again before he pointed to a servant standing nearby. “You… you go.”

The servant had a blank, emotionless face, completely out of place amid the glitz and revelry of the banquet. Without a word, he obeyed the command and walked stiffly to Duan Yunfeng’s table. Step by step, he raised the wine pot with rigid precision, pouring wine slowly into Duan Yunfeng’s cup—yet his hollow, pitch-black eyes never blinked as he stared fixedly at the man in front of him.

“Is there something wrong with this wine?” Duan Yunfeng raised an eyebrow, his tone curious, almost playful.

The man’s motion froze for a brief second. Then he set the wine pot down and said, “What could be wrong with it?”

Duan Yunfeng smiled and lifted the cup. “I don’t know. Let me try it and find out.”

In the blink of an eye, a flash of silver gleamed from the servant’s sleeve—a dagger whipped out, aimed straight for Duan Yunfeng’s throat.

Clang!

Duan Yunfeng, already prepared, raised his hand. The wine cup’s handle caught the dagger’s edge with perfect precision, like a dragon toying with a pearl. His hand twisted, guiding the assassin’s blade through the air in a sweeping arc. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he tossed the wine cup skyward and leapt into the air, snatching the assassin’s wrist mid-motion. He wrenched the dagger free and drove his black-gold boots—patterned with a golden python—down hard onto the assassin’s head.

Ding—!

The dagger embedded itself in the table with a metallic hum. The assassin let out a bloodcurdling scream as crimson blood trickled from between Duan Yunfeng’s fingers clamped around his wrist.

Catching the falling wine cup with practiced ease, Duan Yunfeng calmly poured the remaining wine onto the man’s face.

“You tell me,” he said.

Then he turned to Li Jichang with a cold sneer. “So this is how the King of Chu treats his guests—with blades and blood?”

Behind him, the Silver Spear Guards all raised their weapons in unison, aiming their spearheads at Li Jichang and the guards flanking him.

“Well done!” Li Jichang suddenly rose from his seat. Not a trace of drunkenness remained on his face. He raised his own wine cup and laughed, “Hahaha! But it’s a pity…”

The last remnants of his old pretense fell away. His narrow, shifty eyes narrowed even further, filled with venomous hatred. “You’re Duan Yu’s son. Today, you’re destined to die here!”

Crash—!

As he spoke, he hurled his wine cup to the ground.

BOOM!

A clap of thunder exploded outside the hall. The harsh white lightning illuminated the grim faces of thousands of axe-wielding soldiers lying in ambush just beyond.