Father and daughter of the Chen family, surrounded by their guards, walked slowly toward the palace city. Chen Liehu deliberately slowed his pace, giving the eunuch time to return and report. Though he had defied the order to go to prison, he would never truly storm the palace gates. However foolish Prince Wu might be, he was still his sovereign.
The eunuch rushed into the palace at full speed, stumbling and weeping as he cried before Prince Wu: “My lord, Chen Liehu has rebelled!”
Prince Wu was pale and plump, born in Wu as the crown prince, raised in luxury and arrogance. Before inheriting the throne, he had suffered attacks from his brothers, leaving him sensitive and suspicious. He was reclining on a beauty’s lap, resting, when the eunuch’s panic startled him upright. At the mention of Chen Liehu’s name, he calmed again.
That old man, relying on his status as Wu’s elder statesman, always lectured him. But rebellion? Hardly.
He asked the eunuch, “Did the Grand Tutor refuse to obey again?”
The eunuch sobbed and exaggerated the story, pointing outside. “He even brought troops to threaten you! Summon the guards quickly!”
Prince Wu thought of facing Chen Liehu and pressed his head. “Again, he will nag endlessly.”
Beside him, Beauty Zhang began to cry softly. “It is all my fault, burdening the Prince.”
The Prince’s heart ached at her tears. He hurried to comfort her: “This is not your fault, nor your father’s. It was the Grand Tutor who insisted his son go to war. Now he is dead, and they blame me.”
At that moment, the guards reported that Chen Liehu was outside the palace gate seeking an audience.
The eunuch crawled forward, crying, “Summon the imperial guards to seize him!”
“His grandfather was enfeoffed with Wu. When I was wounded, it was he who kept the princes from rebellion,” the Prince said irritably. “Though he is disrespectful in his old age, I cannot deny him face.”
The old man’s life was stubbornly long; he had not died, and the Prince still had to endure him.
Chen Liehu would only speak again of how dire the situation was, how to deploy troops and generals. Yet Wu had hundreds of thousands of soldiers, and the Yangtze River as a barrier—what was there to fear? Moreover, the Princes of Zhou and Qi were fighting alongside them. Let them battle first, exhaust the imperial army, and he would reap the fisherman’s profit.
As Secretary Wen had said, these generals loved war, desperate for merit. Even the smallest matter, they would shout to the heavens.
Look at Chen Liehu—sending his son, then his son‑in‑law, and now himself to the battlefield. He clamored for this strategy, that defense. Later, he would clamor for rewards.
The Prince did not want to hear his nagging. He ordered the eunuch to summon Secretary Wen and other ministers. When Chen Liehu argued with them, the Prince could relax.
The eunuch hurried to deliver the order. The Prince lingered with Beauty Zhang. She clung to his sleeve, reluctant. “Will you still attend the poetry banquet this afternoon? Their verses are nothing compared to yours. Without you, it will be meaningless.”
The Prince promised, “Of course, I will come. Last night I dreamed a fine poem. I will write it then.”
Only then did Beauty Zhang release him, leaning against the railing to watch him depart.
Chen Liehu waited outside the palace city for a long time before the gates finally opened. A different eunuch appeared, escorted by the imperial guards, his face stern as he invited Chen Liehu inside. Once within the palace, riding was forbidden, so Chen Liehu limped forward on his own, with Chen Danzhu closely following.
The eunuch noticed her presence and at first wanted to say that the Prince had summoned only Chen Liehu. But thinking better of it, he decided not to stir trouble—let Chen Liehu anger the Prince himself.
This was not Chen Danzhu’s first time entering the palace. The current Prince Wu loved music and dance, and the palace often hosted banquets. As the daughter of the Grand Tutor’s household, she was among the noble women of the capital. Though she had no mother, she could attend such feasts with her elder sister.
The Wu palace was truly beautiful—its scenery enchanting, its beauties dazzling. The concubines could sing and dance, and the ministers could compose poetry. Countless verses and songs were created at those banquets. Even after Wu’s fall, Chen Danzhu would still hear wandering scholars reciting the poems and songs that had once spread from the palace.
Now the palace was at its most splendid. Before entering the inner court lay a long road lined with drooping willows, swaying gracefully in the wind.
Chen Danzhu had no interest in the scenery. She kept her head lowered, following her father into the great hall. Several ministers were already present. Seeing Chen Liehu enter with his daughter, one sneered: “The Chen family’s young lady not only causes chaos in the army, but now enters the palace at will. Grand Tutor, do you mean to secure an official post for your daughter?”
Chen Liehu limped into the hall, stood firm, and raised his brows coldly. “Wen Zhong, I, Chen Liehu, do not need your meddling. Do not think yourself important. Whatever office you hold, my daughter could perform it just as well.”
Chen Liehu was hated—domineering, blunt, arrogant. Yet no one could do anything against him.
Secretary Wen glared furiously. “Chen Liehu, how dare you! This is contempt for the Prince—Your Majesty!” He knelt before Prince Wu, crying, “I beg punishment for the Grand Tutor’s arrogance!”
The Prince thought to himself: arrogance? What kind of crime is that? Foolish. Could they not find a greater charge? Chen Liehu’s family held hereditary office as Grand Tutor, granted by the High Ancestor. Even as king, he could not easily punish him.
Chen Liehu also knelt. “My lord, I have a matter to report. My son‑in‑law, General Li Liang, is dead.”
The Prince had already heard the news. Inwardly, he felt a touch of glee. Serves you right—always grasping for military power, sending your son, then your son‑in‑law. Now both are dead. Next, when Chen Liehu himself dies, the Chen family will finally vanish. Imagining the silence without his nagging, the Prince nearly laughed aloud, but quickly suppressed it, sighing instead: “Grand Tutor, restrain your grief.”
Another minister in the hall spoke with a mocking tone: “Ah, Grand Tutor, your son‑in‑law’s death cannot be blamed on me this time. I was not in the army.”
Chen Danzhu, kneeling behind her father, looked at him. This man’s appearance was refined, but his eyes were full of arrogance. He was Inspector Zhang, Beauty Zhang’s father. Her brother Danyang’s death was tied to Li Liang, but Inspector Zhang had deliberately plotted against him. Even without Li Liang, Danyang would have perished in the siege.
When Wu fell, Inspector Zhang did not die. Because his daughter, Beauty Zhang, had been given by Li Liang to the Emperor, she was harmless in the Emperor’s eyes, like a treasure to be accepted. Being the Emperor’s concubine was far greater than being the prince’s consort. Inspector Zhang rose by his daughter’s favor, and the Zhang family flourished. Only the Chen family perished, branded with guilt, their clan denied even graves. Her sister and father’s remains had been stolen by old retainers in secret, so she could raise two small mounds at Tao Mountain.
Chen Danzhu clenched her teeth. Inspector Zhang noticed her gaze and grew angry. This little girl—so young, yet her eyes were even more defiant than her father’s.
Chen Liehu did not respond to Inspector Zhang’s provocation. His expression remained calm as he said: “I killed Li Liang.”
None of them had expected this. Inspector Zhang, Wen Zhong, and the others were stunned, and Prince Wu suddenly sat upright.
What?
“Grand Tutor—” the Prince asked in shock. Such a terrifying man? Such a ruthless minister could not be kept close!
Chen Liehu looked at Prince Wu. “Li Liang defected to the imperial court. I ordered my daughter to take the tally and kill him.”
Li Liang had betrayed Prince Wu. Heaven above!
Chen Liehu’s daughter had gone to kill him. Everyone’s eyes shifted between Chen Li‑hu and Chen Danzhu.
Chen Liehu, who prided himself on loyalty, had a household that betrayed the Prince first. And Chen Danzhu—only fourteen or fifteen years old—had dared to kill? To kill her own brother‑in‑law? Terrifying. The news left everyone in turmoil, unsure whether to rejoice, condemn, or fear.
Prince Wu cried out: “How could this be? How could General Li betray me!”
The war with the imperial army had not even begun, and already he had surrendered? Were these generals not only exaggerators, but cowards as well?
Chen Liehu said: “Imperial envoys infiltrated the army, bribing and tempting Li Liang. The soldier I placed at his side discovered it and reported. To avoid alarming the spies, I sent my daughter with the tally to strike while Li Liang was unprepared, then declared he was killed in a struggle for power, so as not to disturb morale.”
In short, Li Liang’s betrayal was true. Inspector Zhang and Wen Zhong were instantly delighted. The others cared little—Chen Liehu, you finally had your downfall.
“The Grand Tutor’s son‑in‑law betrayed the Prince,” Inspector Zhang said mockingly. “Unexpected indeed. That you could sacrifice kin for loyalty is admirable. But they say a son‑in‑law is half a son. If your son‑in‑law could betray, perhaps your son Dan‑yang’s death was the same?”
Chen Liehu roared in anger: “Is this the time for slander? Imperial spies have infiltrated the army and bribed generals. Wu’s survival is at stake!”
Inspector Zhang was not cowed. He feared no cripple. The sun was setting on Chen Liehu—his son and son‑in‑law already dead.
“Survival at stake? And yet it is your family that is bribed and bought. Chen Liehu, Wu’s peril is because of you!”
It began. Prince Wu leaned back, already thinking of what excuse he might use to leave. But before he could, someone interrupted the quarrel in the hall.
“There is still urgent business to report—stop arguing.” It was a bright, sharp, youthful voice, cutting through the harsh noise of the old men.
The hall fell silent, all eyes turning to the young girl.
Chen Danzhu continued: “It was I who killed my brother‑in‑law. I know the details, and I understand the situation in the army best. What I have discovered concerns the survival of Wu.”
Wen Zhong sneered inwardly. Whatever concerned Wu’s survival, it no longer involved the Chen family, tainted by betrayal. He said coldly: “Then speak.”
Chen Danzhu looked directly at Prince Wu. “My lord, these matters I will tell only to you.”
What? Wen Zhong bristled, but before he could rebuke her, Chen Danzhu’s tears spilled, and she cried out, “My lord—”
Prince Wu was soft‑hearted, unable to bear the sight of a beauty in tears—even if this beauty was still young. “Very well,” he said at once. He had no desire to hear the men’s bickering anyway. This was his chance to leave. Rising, he turned toward the side hall. “Second Miss Chen, come with me.”
Chen Danzhu answered promptly, rising gracefully to follow. Chen Liehu was caught off guard—she had not told him of this plan. Now it was too late to stop her. He could only watch his daughter’s light steps as she followed the Prince into the side hall.
Inspector Zhang sneered: “Grand Tutor, how fortunate you are. No son, no son‑in‑law, but still a daughter—so lovely.”
This was a taunt: that Chen Liehu was sending his daughter to seduce the Prince, to preserve the family’s power. Shameless.
Inspector Zhang’s eyes glinted. Chen Liehu saw, but ignored him. Still, unease stirred in his heart. His daughter was not that kind of person—but who could say? Since she had claimed to kill Li Liang, he no longer fully understood her. Ah… he only hoped she would not do something foolish. The Chen family did not need her beauty to preserve its honor.
In the hall, the men’s thoughts churned. Meanwhile, Prince Wu led Chen Danzhu into the side chamber. Yawning, he asked: “Well then, what do you have to say?”
Chen Danzhu knelt. “My lord, the army is in grave danger. Many imperial envoys have already infiltrated.”
Prince Wu was unconcerned. For a hundred years, the feudal lords had risen from vassals to equals, even to disdain the imperial court. The Emperor held only a handful of counties, a few hundred thousand troops—too weak.
Wu was stronger than other states, protected by the Yangtze. No army had ever crossed it.
Envoys? What of them? Did he not also send envoys and spies to the imperial court? And the Princes of Zhou and Qi were allies. Envoys were only envoys. They could not enter the palace or approach him.
“I understand,” he said. “I will send men at once to root out the spies, seize and execute the bribed generals as a warning. Second Miss, is there more?”
Chen Danzhu rose, stepped closer, and whispered: “My lord, His Majesty bids me ask you one question.”
Prince Wu froze—then was seized with terror. Ah—