The storm surrounding the ancestral sacrifice was like a blade precisely wielded by Shen Chaoqing, pointing directly at the Empress Dowager and her faction.
Acting with thunderous momentum and holding the golden tablet and arrow, Duan Zhuifeng stirred up monstrous waves both inside and outside the palace under the pretext of thoroughly investigating the “ferocious mastiff lunging at the carriage” case. He did not need conclusive evidence; names and accusations such as “under suspicion,” “possibly involved,” and “required to assist in the investigation” were enough to drag countless people into the imperial prison.
In an instant, an atmosphere of terror hung over the court both inside and out. The Empress Dowager’s informants planted everywhere, the trusted aides promoted by Li Miaoze, and even officials whose stances were merely ambiguous and who had maintained overly close ties with the Marquis of Jing’an’s estate were either replaced, transferred, or directly imprisoned on various grounds. The vacant positions were swiftly filled by humble-born scholars or low-key, loyal pro-emperor officials whom Shen Chaoqing had long secretly evaluated and prepared.
This operation, named an “investigation” but in reality a “purge,” was carried out swiftly and efficiently. The Empress Dowager’s faction was caught off guard, suffering heavy losses as their foundation was shaken. By the time they reacted and wanted to launch a counterattack, they discovered that many key positions had already changed hands, and Duan Zhuifeng’s troops firmly controlled the palace forbidden grounds and the capital’s defense forces. This forced them to act with extreme caution, leaving them with no choice but to bide their time temporarily and swallow this bitter blood.
Inside the Zichen Palace, Shen Chaoqing looked over the lists of newly appointed officials and memorial reports with great satisfaction.
This time, the Empress Dowager had suffered heavy losses, allowing his process of seizing power to move even faster. Once those people were dealt with, even if Xiao Huaiyan were to march on the State of Jin, Shen Chaoqing could open the gates to welcome him.
The wind in the palace shifted faster than the weather in the twelfth lunar month.
Qian Desheng, the chief eunuch of the Imperial Household Department, had previously seen Xiao Huaiyan and, though not daring to make things difficult openly, had always let his eyelids droop, exuding a condescending perfunctoriness. Today, however, it was entirely different.
As soon as Xiao Huaiyan reached the entrance of the storeroom, Qian Desheng scurried up like a hyena catching the scent of meat, his face piled with a smile bordering on fawning. He trotted over virtually bent at the waist, his voice honeyed to the point of cloying: “Oh! Your Highness, why did you come in person? For such a small matter, just dispatch a little eunuch to give word, and this slave would have immediately delivered them to your duty room! How could we trouble Your Greatness?”
While speaking, he briskly and efficiently presented a set of thick, brand-new padded cotton winter clothes and boots. The materials were sturdy and the stitches meticulous, clearly top-tier goods.
“Take a look, Your Highness. This is newly imported fine cotton from the south, exceptionally soft. His Majesty gave the special instruction that since you performed meritorious service in protecting the sovereign, all your provisions must be of the finest quality!” Qian Desheng bowed deeply, presenting the garments with both hands in a posture so humble he might as well have been kneeling.
Xiao Huaiyan took them, his fingertips touching the soft, warm cotton, yet his heart remained undisturbed. Within the palace walls, currying favor with the powerful and trampling on the weak was always the norm.
He was merely a temporarily useful knife in Shen Chaoqing’s hands; today’s attentiveness stemmed from that single toss upon the altar yesterday. If he lost his value another day, today’s smiling faces would instantly revert to cold glares.
Xiao Huaiyan nodded slightly in acknowledgment, without speaking further, and turned to leave with the cotton clothes. Qian Desheng could still be heard rambling behind him: “Take care, Your Highness! If anything is lacking, just command this slave at any time…”
Not long after walking out of the Imperial Household Department and passing through a moon gate, he saw Fu’an hurrying along from another palace path, carefully holding a purple sandalwood tray with both hands. Resting upon it was a white jade bowl filled with medicinal broth as dark as ink, curling with heat and emitting a rich, bitter medicinal scent.
Fu’an’s brow was tightly furrowed, his face full of worry, walking almost while staring fixedly at the medicine bowl for fear of spilling a single drop.
Xiao Huaiyan’s footsteps paused imperceptibly.
He once again thought of that frail figure, coughing agonizingly and thin-boned before the little wolf.
Liao State intelligence reports had once stated that the late Emperor Xiande pursued immortality, consuming alchemical pills to the point of madness and paranoia, becoming suspicious and cold-blooded. This forced the crown prince and the third prince to raise troops in rebellion; after suppressing them, he immediately executed the fence-sitting fifth and fourteenth princes, and not even the three married princesses escaped the fate of execution by waist-chopping, with all their descendants wiped out.
Could this Shen Chaoqing also have embarked on his father’s old path?
Sensing someone nearby, Fu’an looked up to see Xiao Huaiyan, forced a slight smile, and nodded. Without stopping his stride, he hurried faster toward the direction of Zichen Palace, clearly knowing this medicine could not be delayed.
A young eunuch happened to pass by nearby, and Xiao Huaiyan asked as if casually, “Is His Majesty’s imperial health indisposed?”
Startled, the young eunuch hastily replied respectfully, “His Majesty has always enjoyed robust imperial health a true Son of Heaven! This slave heard… that bowl is tonic medicine prescribed by the Imperial Hospital, said to be for reinforcing the constitution to cope with the bitter winter cold.”
Tonic? Reinforcing the constitution?
Xiao Huaiyan’s gaze deepened. The scent of that medicine, its pitch-black color, and Fu’an’s unconcealed anxiety… were by no means as simple as ordinary tonic remedies.
He did not believe it.
Inside Zichen Palace, the bitter scent of medicine permeated the air.
Shen Chaoqing leaned sideways on a soft couch, beads of cold sweat dotting his temples. He took the medicine bowl from Fu’an’s hands without even frowning, threw his head back, and drained the dark, choking, bitter decoction in one gulp, as though he were simply drinking plain water.
Fu’an hurriedly handed over clean water and preserved fruit. Shen Chaoqing picked up two pieces and popped them into his mouth; the sweet taste overpowered the bitterness, causing his brows to relax slightly.
At that moment, an announcement came from outside the hall that Duan Zhuifeng requested an audience.
“Proclaim him in.”
“Your Majesty, the case of the ferocious mastiff has made progress. Upon investigation, that hound was raised in the animal enclosure subordinate to the Ministry of Rites. The beast-taming official in charge of it confessed that he was instructed by Zhu Shaolong, Vice Minister of the Ministry of Rites, to secretly bring the hound into the palace the day before the ancestral sacrifices and hide it in the corridor of the sacrificial offerings storeroom.”
Duan Zhuifeng paused. “When this subordinate led men to Zhu Shaolong’s residence, we discovered that he had already… committed suicide out of fear in his study. A suicide note was left behind, claiming he was momentarily confused, listened to slanderous advice, committed a grave error, and felt too ashamed to face Your Majesty, thus seeking death to atone for his crimes.”
Silence descended upon the hall for a moment.
Shen Chaoqing tapped his fingertips lightly against the edge of the couch, his face devoid of surprise.
Zhu Shaolong, an inconspicuous yet crucial old dog under the Empress Dowager’s banner, specialized in sacrificial ritual vessels and miscellaneous affairs, making him indeed the most suitable candidate to carry out such a deed. Suicide? It was nothing more than sacrificing the rook to save the king, cutting off the tail to survive. The Li siblings certainly had neat and clean hands, cutting off all direct evidence right there at Zhu Shaolong.
Digging any deeper would probably yield few substantive results and instead drive them to desperate measures.
However, it was enough. Zhu Shaolong’s death was in itself an explanation, a breakthrough he could leverage.
Shen Chaoqing slowly raised his eyes. “Since Zhu Shaolong served as Vice Minister of the Ministry of Rites, desecrated the ancestral sacrifices, and loosed a beast to assassinate the sovereign, his crime is unforgivable. Though he has already taken his own life, state law is like iron, and his crime cannot be pardoned.”
“Transmit Our decree.”
“Zhu Shaolong committed heinous crimes; by law, his nine familial clans shall be executed, and all his property and assets shall be confiscated and turned over to the state.”
Fu’an’s body trembled slightly, his head lowering even further.
A sharp gleam flashed in Duan Zhuifeng’s eyes. Without hesitation, he cupped his fists and accepted the order: “This subject obeys the decree!”
Executions spanning nine clans. This was the bloodiest and most tyrannical form of reckoning, as well as the most effective warning capable of intimidating all petty villains.
Shen Chaoqing intended to use the blood of Zhu Shaolong’s entire clan to tell those still lurking in the shadows: in this game, he called the shots.
The price for the loser was complete annihilation.
Duan Zhuifeng accepted the decree and strode out of Zichen Palace. Just as he stepped out of the hall doors, he ran squarely into Xiao Huaiyan, who was about to enter.
Both men paused in their steps at the exact same moment.