Deathly silence.
Inside the side hall of Qianqing Palace, there was a hellish silence.
The thick smell of blood mixed with gunpowder, forming a nauseating stench. The coiling-dragon golden pillar had been dyed a glaring dark red. Broken glazed tiles mixed with splintered wood littered the floor.
“Ah… ah… ghosts… there are ghosts!”
On the dragon bed, Emperor Zhao Yuan let out a shrill scream like a broken gong. He looked utterly insane, scrambling with both hands and feet as he tried to crawl off the bed, only to discover in terror that his legs were like two lumps of lead-filled dead flesh, completely without sensation.
Twice! A full two times! That world-destroying “heavenly thunder” had exploded right beside him!
Once, it had left him paralyzed. The second time, he had watched with his own eyes as the imperial uncle he relied on most had his arm blown off trying to save him—his life now uncertain.
“Th-that ‘iron bird’… it’s still there!” Guard commander Zhou Wei’s face was deathly pale. He suddenly raised his head. Through the pitch-black hole in the palace roof, he could see the strange black shadow circling in the night sky.
A surge of humiliation and fury rose in his heart. Zhou Wei abruptly drew the saber from his waist, his eyes bloodshot as he roared:
“Archers! Assemble immediately! Shoot it down! Shoot it down for me!”
He could not wait any longer! If he waited, everyone’s courage would be ground away by that monstrous thing!
Meanwhile, a thousand meters above the ground.
Shen Qingzhu’s gaze was as cold as ice. Through the screen, she clearly saw dozens of imperial guards outside the side hall drawing their bows and aiming at her drone.
Her finger hovered over the final launch button.
One press—and every heat source still breathing inside that side hall would be erased completely.
The emperor, the powerful eunuchs, the guards, even the heavily wounded Imperial Preceptor… all finished in one stroke.
“Whoosh—!”
A feathered arrow shot into the sky, carrying the reckless fury of an imperial guard commander as it cut through the night air.
The corner of Shen Qingzhu’s mouth curled into a mocking smile. Her finger lightly nudged the control stick.
The drone made an unbelievable lateral shift in midair, precisely avoiding the arrow. The shaft flew past weakly and finally embedded itself in a distant palace wall.
Foolish.
But that arrow made Shen Qingzhu instantly change her mind.
Her purpose was deterrence. To break the deadlock. To win a sliver of survival for the Shen family before their downfall.
A paralyzed emperor—one whose courage had been completely shattered—was far more useful than a dead emperor. Because the dead feel no fear.
And these chess pieces blinded by anger would only complicate matters.
Shen Qingzhu’s eyes regained absolute rationality. She canceled the attack command and instead took out a pen and an extremely tough sheet of white hemp paper from her space.
She was going to give them a “gift” far more terrifying than death.
…
Inside the hall.
“Silence!”
The one who answered Zhou Wei was Emperor Zhao Yuan’s hysterical scream.
“What do you think you’re doing?! Do you want to anger the gods?!”
Zhao Yuan glared at Zhou Wei, his eyes bloodshot.
“That is heavenly punishment! It is Heaven’s retribution against me! Do you want to provoke another bolt of heavenly thunder and have us all die here?!”
Zhou Wei shuddered at the shout and instantly dropped to his knees, not daring to say another word.
Li Fu’an immediately understood the emperor’s meaning. He crawled to the dragon bed, his old face wrinkled like a chrysanthemum. In a sharp, tearful voice, he scolded Zhou Wei:
“Commander Zhou! You are utterly foolish! The Imperial Preceptor sacrificed himself to save His Majesty and secure a sliver of life for him, and you still dare harbor such treasonous thoughts?!”
As he spoke, he wiped imaginary tears with his sleeve. Turning to the stunned guards around him, he sharply rebuked them:
“What are you all staring at?! No sense at all! The Imperial Preceptor can block heavenly thunder for His Majesty—can’t you? From now on, remember this: your duty is ‘loyal protection of the emperor’! If that… that divine object descends again, you will throw yourselves forward layer by layer and use your lives as flesh shields for His Majesty! Do you hear me?!”
The guards’ faces were pale as paper, yet they could only kneel together and tremble as they replied:
“…Yes.”
Zhao Yuan looked at Li Fu’an, and a trace of approval flashed through his eyes. He panted heavily. The tide of fear receded slightly, replaced by an even more burning greed.
He feared that power.
But he wanted it even more.
“Li Fu’an…” he said hoarsely, “Transmit my decree… From this moment on, no one is allowed to show any disrespect toward that ‘iron bird.’”
He paused, strange light flickering in his eyes.
“Find a way… to speak with it. Tell it that whether it is a celestial immortal or a spirit demon, if it is willing to serve me… I can name it the Divine Guardian Beast of the nation! I will build temples for it, cast it a golden statue, and grant it eternal incense offerings!”
Zhao Yuan struggled to sit up.
“Help me up… I want… I want to see my imperial uncle…”
But as soon as he exerted strength, the pain and numbness from his lower body overwhelmed him, and he collapsed back onto the bed in despair.
Just then, Huairen—who had been guarding Deqing—suddenly let out a cry of surprise.
“Master! Master, you’re awake!”
Everyone turned to look.
Deqing had opened his eyes at some unknown moment.
He did not look at anyone. He simply stared blankly at his empty right shoulder. The bleeding had been temporarily stopped by Huairen’s medicine, but beneath the torn monk’s robe the flesh was a horrifying mess.
Pain surged like a tide, yet his sharp brows did not even twitch.
He had underestimated it.
He thought that with the indestructible body he had trained for decades, he could easily crush that small “iron lump.” But the moment his palm grasped it, he realized the thing contained a force he had never understood—a violently pure power of destruction.
His pride, his cultivation, his dignity as a grandmaster—all had been blasted to pieces in that instant.
“Master…” Huairen choked, wanting to say something.
But Deqing slowly raised his remaining left hand to stop him.
He lifted his head, his gaze passing over everyone and toward the hole in the roof. His eyes were incomparably complex.
At that exact moment—
“Whoosh—”
Another faint yet unmistakable sound cut through the air!
“Protect the emperor!!”
Li Fu’an shrieked in a voice no longer human and threw himself onto the emperor again without hesitation.
Everyone instinctively shut their eyes and curled up, waiting for death to descend once more.
But the expected explosion never came.
“Clink—”
A crisp metallic sound rang out in the center of the hall, strangely piercing.
After a long moment, a brave young eunuch slowly opened his eyes and pointed at the floor, stammering:
“Th-that thing… it’s… it’s a letter?”
Only then did everyone look.
On the smooth golden floor tiles in the center of the hall lay a neatly folded sheet of white hemp paper. One corner of it was pinned down by a strangely shaped black metal block.
Through the screen, Shen Qingzhu watched the scene coldly.
She controlled the drone to circle above Qianqing Palace one final time. After confirming there were no more threats, she quickly raised its altitude, turned it around, and flew toward the Shen residence.
Behind it, several agile figures leapt up from the palace walls, seemingly trying to pursue it—but in the face of the drone’s absolute speed and altitude, they were quickly left far behind.
When it reached the sky above the Shen residence, Shen Qingzhu did not let the drone land. Instead, at a perfectly safe and concealed height, she moved her thoughts.
In the night sky, the “iron bird” vanished into thin air.
She stored the drone directly into her space.
Only after finishing all this did she close the laptop and put it away together with the two boxes, as if nothing had happened. She walked to the bed, lay down, pulled the blanket over herself, and prepared to sleep.
Tonight, she had given the emperor a lesson he would never forget.
And she had won the most precious thing for the Shen family—time.
Now, all that remained was to wait.
…
Side hall of Qianqing Palace.
At Deqing’s signal, Huairen stepped forward and carefully picked up the letter.
He presented it to Li Fu’an. Li Fu’an’s hands trembled violently, but he dared not open it. Instead, he carried it to Emperor Zhao Yuan.
“Y-Your Majesty…”
Zhao Yuan stared at the letter.
After a long while, he finally forced out two hoarse words:
“…Read.”