For a time, the situation within the palace became strangely unsettling. On the one hand, people sought to win Yunshang and Adu over; on the other, there were those who wanted nothing more than to eliminate them completely.
The Third Prince had always been close to the An State Duke’s household. Since An Guogong’s attempt to reclaim Adu had failed last time, the two sides had now completely reverted to being enemies. Once faces had been torn off, there was no need for pretense—hatred would simply be carried through to the end.
“Father Emperor, last time the Heavenly Maiden and the National Preceptor were able to bring timely rain for the people, they truly accumulated great merit. But your son cannot help wondering—what is it that they truly desire? Is a pleasant reputation really enough for them? Or could there be something hidden that Father Emperor is unaware of?”
That day, after the Third Prince finished the task assigned by the emperor, he lingered. After some thought, he decided to add one more sentence.
Since there was already some friction between the National Preceptor and the An State Duke’s household, winning them over was likely impossible anyway. In that case, it would be better to eliminate them outright—to prevent them from becoming support for another brother. What he could not obtain, no one else should be allowed to have.
The emperor’s expression remained calm. Now old and weary, how could his mind and energy compare to his younger years?
Hearing these words, he felt only a trace of irritation, yet he did not interrupt the Third Prince—clearly, he was willing to hear him out.
After all, from the moment he first encountered that pair of siblings, things had felt somewhat strange. Even now, he remained curious—what exactly did they want?
Was a grand title like Heavenly Maiden and National Preceptor enough? Was a resplendent palace sufficient?
And what if, one day, they demanded a price in return? Would he truly be able to afford it then?
Receiving so many benefits without cause inevitably bred unease—even for an emperor.
“Father Emperor, allow your son to speak boldly. There is no such thing as gaining something for nothing under heaven. The Heavenly Maiden and the National Preceptor claim mastery of immortal arts—and since they truly possess such skills, techniques that can save lives can just as easily harm them.
“Right now, they are willing to serve Father Emperor. But what if one day they change their minds? If they turn those life-saving abilities into weapons, will Father Emperor be prepared?”
The Third Prince spoke cautiously. Even without his words, the emperor must have considered this already.
Sure enough, the emperor’s expression shifted slightly. Seeing this, the Third Prince knew his words had taken root.
The emperor had always been suspicious by nature. As time passed, his thoughts regarding Yunshang and Adu grew increasingly complicated—at least, that was how the Third Prince saw it.
“Elder Sister, His Majesty has hardly visited us lately. He seems distant—could it be that he’s listened to someone’s slander again?”
Adu sighed helplessly. He truly could not understand what the emperor was thinking.
Clearly the master of this palace, the most exalted man under heaven—yet he always seemed anxious, always plagued by worry.
Whether it was slander or not depended entirely on the emperor himself. He had grown old; his vigor was long gone. The princes had all matured, and once grown, they naturally coveted power. They fought and schemed endlessly—surely the emperor could see that clearly. Perhaps that was why he had grown so weary of it all.
Yunshang idly watered a potted flower. The longer she stayed in the palace, the more tedious it felt.
Although she was not bound by many rules, the oppressive atmosphere still weighed heavily on her.
Not to mention the Third Prince and the An State Duke’s household, constantly pulling petty tricks—nothing truly harmful, yet never daring to say anything outright before the emperor.
It was like a toad crawling onto one’s foot—harmless, but utterly disgusting.
“Now I finally understand why you brought me into this palace,” Adu said quietly. “You already knew An Guogong was my biological father, didn’t you? Without coming here and earning the emperor’s trust, I wouldn’t have had the power to seek revenge.”
Only now did Adu truly understand everything. He didn’t know how Yunshang knew so much—she always seemed to foresee everything, as though all events unfolded exactly as she had expected.
“He was never a good father to begin with,” Yunshang said coldly. “Last time, when he realized he couldn’t trick you with a few sweet words, he showed his true colors—joining forces with the Third Prince, trying to wipe us both out. After all these years, he hasn’t changed at all.”
Of course he hadn’t changed.
Back then, it was clearly his own drunkenness, his failure to honor his vows. And when it came time to clean up the mess, his solution was always the same—sacrifice the weaker party.
Murdering to silence witnesses, tying up loose ends. Even now, wasn’t he still doing the same thing?
It was better that he revealed his true face—at least no one would soften their heart anymore. Adu paid it no mind.
He could sense the palace atmosphere growing increasingly tense. He and Yunshang stood squarely at the eye of the storm.
Heavenly Maiden. National Preceptor. Such lofty, noble titles—yet in the end, they were nothing more than decorations.
Everything was granted by the emperor. The day he withdrew his favor, those titles would lose all meaning.
“His Majesty has looked truly haggard lately. My heart aches just seeing it,” Wei Yao said softly as she fed the emperor spoonful after spoonful of freshly prepared ginseng soup, all the while subtly fanning the flames.
Her father and brother clearly stood with the Third Prince. The most urgent task now was to eliminate the so-called Heavenly Maiden and National Preceptor entirely.
The emperor waved his hand, pushing Wei Yao away. He had no interest in ginseng soup. Lately, he felt listless and drowsy every day, often suffering from severe headaches.
The imperial physicians had been summoned, but none could find anything wrong. They only said he worried too much and needed proper rest.
But was it really that simple?
Something felt off.
That day, Wei Yao wore a pale pink dress, with a sachet hanging at her waist, emitting a faint, lingering fragrance.
The emperor keenly caught the scent. Pulling her into his arms, he inhaled deeply. As he breathed in the fragrance, his headache eased noticeably—it felt far more comfortable than before.
Wei Yao leaned into his embrace, a hint of guilt in her heart. She didn’t know whether the fragrance truly worked or not.
She only hoped that, in the end, the Third Prince would inherit the throne. If that happened, the An State Duke’s household would earn the merit of supporting the dragon.
With her father and brother around, her own days would never be too difficult.