Side Hall of Qianqing Palace
Deqing sat cross-legged against the wall. Huairen, his hands trembling, poured an entire bottle of wound medicine over Deqing’s right shoulder—the arm that had been blown off by the explosion.
“Your Majesty, trading this arm for your safety… it’s worth it.”
His voice remained calm and steady, as if what had been severed was not his own arm but merely a dry branch.
“Royal Uncle…”
On the dragon bed, Zhao Yuan—the Son of Heaven—looked like a child who had suffered an unbearable injustice.
“My… my legs… I’ve become a cripple! A cripple!”
He pounded his numb legs madly, venting his helpless rage.
Deqing’s gaze was as calm as still water.
“Your Majesty, injuries to the spine are no trivial matter. But neither are they entirely without hope.”
“I have some old ties with the ‘Medicine King’ of Mount Tianshan and the ‘Living Bodhisattva’ of the South Sea. Once matters here are settled, I will personally write to invite them. If the three of us combine our efforts, we can surely reconnect Your Majesty’s dragon spine and restore your heavenly might.”
Zhao Yuan’s wailing gradually subsided at those words.
Like a drowning man grasping at a straw, he stared at Deqing.
“Royal Uncle… is that true?”
“A ruler does not joke with his words. A monk does not speak falsehoods.”
Deqing replied calmly. Then his tone suddenly turned colder.
“But first, we must find that ‘iron bird’ hiding in the shadows—and the person behind it. They must be torn to pieces.”
He glanced at the shadow guard commander kneeling nearby, awaiting orders.
“Pass down the command. From the capital garrison to local troops, select one thousand elites of the elites. Break them into small groups, disguise them as merchants and travelers, and deploy them along the roads. I want a net stretching from the capital to the southern frontier—a dragnet spanning three thousand li.”
“Yes!”
“And another thing.”
Deqing looked at Huairen. “Tomorrow you will go to the imperial prison and stay by Zhao Jingzhan’s side.”
Huairen froze for a moment, then nodded heavily.
“This disciple understands.”
“Remember,” Deqing said, lowering his voice, each word heavy as iron, “watch him—and protect him. Until the big fish is drawn out, this ‘Mandate of Heaven’ bait must not suffer even the slightest accident.”
“Boom—”
When the first dull explosion came from the direction of the imperial palace, Zhao Jingzhan—leaning against the wall on a pile of straw—slowly opened his eyes.
In those phoenix-like eyes, cold as a frozen pool, there was a trace of faint confusion.
Then came the second explosion. The third…
Each louder than the last. Each closer than the one before.
Dust from the ceiling of the cell trembled loose under the distant shockwaves.
Who was it?
Who would dare, and possess such means, to assassinate the emperor in the very heart of the imperial city?
Zhao Jingzhan’s lips curved slightly.
The smile was icy and mocking.
He hoped that person succeeded.
More than anyone else, he hoped the man sitting on the dragon throne—that hypocritical, suspicious, cold-hearted ruler—would die.
“Creak—”
The heavy prison door opened, interrupting his thoughts.
The one who came in was Li Fu’an.
Behind him were two young eunuchs holding a bright yellow imperial decree.
“This humble servant greets Prince Zhan.”
Zhao Jingzhan didn’t even lift his eyelids.
Li Fu’an didn’t take offense. Instead, he signaled to the eunuchs behind him.
“By the Mandate of Heaven, the Emperor decrees—”
The eunuch unfolded the decree and began reading.
“Zhao Jingzhan, heir of Prince An’s residence, though not directly involved in the rebellion, is the son of the rebel leader and therefore cannot escape punishment. Yet the Emperor remembers familial affection and cannot bear to impose severe penalty. Thus, his princely title is revoked, he is demoted to commoner status, and he is to be escorted immediately into exile to the southern frontier—three thousand li away. So decreed.”
Zhao Jingzhan remained leaning against the wall, his expression unchanged.
Li Fu’an dismissed the eunuchs and cautiously stepped closer.
Narrowing his shrewd eyes, he carefully studied Zhao Jingzhan’s face, trying to find the slightest hint of anything unusual.
“Your Highness… oh no, Zhao Gongzi.”
His voice dropped to a whisper.
“Tonight in the palace… there was a small accident. I wonder if Zhao Gongzi, here in the prison, heard any unusual sounds?”
Zhao Jingzhan sneered inwardly.
Finally, he lifted his gaze. Those clear, cold eyes looked directly at Li Fu’an.
Li Fu’an felt a chill crawl up his spine. A layer of cold sweat instantly broke out across his back.
“This servant was only asking casually… just casually…”
He laughed awkwardly, waving his hands.
At last Zhao Jingzhan spoke. His voice was hoarse, yet every word was clear.
“Chief Steward Li… are you asking for yourself?”
“Or asking on behalf of His Majesty?”
The single sentence froze Li Fu’an’s fake smile.
Zhao Jingzhan slowly stood up and brushed the straw dust from his prison clothes, his movements calm and unhurried.
“Go back and tell him.”
“The assassin wasn’t caught, and the target didn’t quite die… correct?”
Li Fu’an’s pupils shrank sharply.
“So you came up with this little play—‘luring the snake from its hole.’”
Zhao Jingzhan’s gaze passed him, looking toward the endless darkness outside the prison.
“Using me as bait… to hook that unknown ‘big fish.’”
“Y-you…” Li Fu’an staggered backward in shock, pointing at Zhao Jingzhan, unable to say a word.
These were secret plans discussed only between the Imperial Preceptor and the Emperor. How could he possibly know?!
“Playing along with the plan isn’t a bad choice.”
Zhao Jingzhan ignored him and walked straight toward the cell door.
The capital was a cage.
But the three-thousand-li road of exile—was it not a far wider world?
He would ride this wind and see just who was stirring the storms behind the scenes.
Crown Prince Zhao Rui sat in his study, barely able to contain the wild joy on his face.
“Is he dead? My father… is he dead?”
He asked the eunuch kneeling below him, his voice trembling with excitement.
“R-reporting to Your Highness… His Majesty… he’s not dead.”
The eunuch replied nervously.
“He was only… blown over by the explosion’s shockwave. His spine was broken when he fell. His lower body… is paralyzed.”
“Paralyzed?”
The smile on Zhao Rui’s face froze instantly.
Not dead?
How could he not be dead?!
Just as disappointment flooded his heart, another eunuch stumbled in, crawling and crying.
“Your Highness! Bad news! The young prince… something happened to the young prince!”
“Yi’er?” Zhao Rui’s heart tightened. “What happened to him?”
“The young prince secretly went to the imperial prison… and that rebel Zhao Jingzhan… he crippled him!”
“What?!”
Zhao Rui shot to his feet, grabbing the eunuch by the collar, his eyes bloodshot.
“What do you mean crippled?! Explain!”
“That Zhao Jingzhan… used a brush to stab out the young prince’s eyes. Then he used another brush to pierce through both his ears… The imperial physicians say… from now on, the young prince will be both blind and deaf… a useless cripple!”
“Zhao! Jing! Zhan!”
Zhao Rui’s chest heaved violently. He nearly ground his steel teeth into powder.
Overwhelming fury and hatred nearly burned away his sanity.
That child was his bargaining chip to secure the position of Crown Prince!
“Guards! Saddle the horses! I will personally go to the prison and tear that little beast into pieces!”
He roared as he rushed toward the door.
“Your Highness! Please reconsider!”
His trusted eunuch clung desperately to his legs, crying.
“The case of Prince An’s rebellion is still at the center of public attention! Why would the young prince secretly go to meet the rebel’s son? If His Majesty finds out… even if you jumped into the Yellow River, you couldn’t wash yourself clean!”
It was like a bucket of cold water dumped over his head.
Zhao Rui froze in place.
That’s right.
He couldn’t go.
Not only could he not take revenge, he had to bury this matter completely—as if it had never happened.
“Pfft—”
A mouthful of sweet, metallic blood burst from his lips.
Swallow the broken teeth along with the blood.
This overwhelming hatred, this vengeance for a ruined son—he could only endure it.