This single remark successfully drew the gazes of dozens of officials across the entire court. After half an hour of chaotic tossing and turning, followed by this latest scare, the ministers with weaker constitutions were practically on the verge of pinching their own philtrums, wondering if this was a morning court session or a trial through the fires of hell.
Amidst a sea of shock, suspicion, and calculation, only the line of imperial physicians looked as though they had caught sight of a lifeline. Their usual elitist disdain for country quacks vanished entirely. Anyone bold enough to act presumptuously in the imperial palace either had a death wish or was striving for fame and glory.
The man before them wore white robes embroidered with deep crimson patterns. He was no spring chicken, yet he used only a jade hairpin to gather up half his hair, possessed a flamboyant and gaudy face, and could freely enter and exit the imperial precincts. At a glance, he was obviously someone here to make a name for himself.
Before the people filling the hall could utter a word, the man narrowed his eyes on his own accord. “Chief Astrologer, have you forgotten your master so quickly?”
“Even if you forgot, it does not matter. The rest can be explained by you later; saving His Majesty takes precedence for this master.”
The Chief Astrologer was frozen in place by these words, nearly failing to maintain his ethereal, immortal demeanor. His master had been dead for twenty years, and he had personally buried the bones himself; the person before him was most likely seeking an early grave.
However, this moment was not the time to expose this audacious fellow. He had always done things with absolute certainty. The Chief Astrologer’s identity was intertwined with the Wu God, carrying elements of bizarre and supernatural phenomena. If Nanrong Chengyu wanted to pin a crime like bewitching the monarch on him, he could execute him publicly right then and there, and methods of assassination were even harder to guard against.
The top priority was to leave the imperial palace; once he returned to the Bureau of Astronomy, he would have his own fallback options.
Therefore, he cupped his hands in acknowledgment. “This disciple has been awaiting Master for a long time. The Bureau of Astronomy possesses an immortal array, and Master personally activating it might yield a glimmer of survival.”
Xie Chen strode up the steps. “The two of you heard it as well. I shall take His Majesty to the Bureau of Astronomy first.”
Not only Prince Xiang and Prince Su heard it, but the court officials heard it clearly as well, and they believed most of it.
A teacher for a day is a father for life. Someone of the Chief Astrologer’s lofty and isolated stature would never casually acknowledge a father figure, and besides, if this white-clad person failed to cure His Majesty when the time came, the crime of deceiving the sovereign would undoubtedly include the Chief Astrologer as well.
Nanrong Xian shifted his gaze away from Nanrong Chen, raised a hand to block this madman who had popped up out of nowhere, and demanded, “Why should this prince believe you?”
“Ask him,” Xie Chen raised a finger to point at Nanrong Chen. “Asking the imperial physician works too, or if all else fails, Grand Secretary Zhou can clear up your doubts.”
Before Nanrong Xian’s words of taking him down could leave his lips, he was pulled aside by Nanrong Chengyu instead. “Divine Emissary, please go ahead.”
Nanrong Chen was the villainous boss; naturally, he wouldn’t exit the stage early. This heavenly drop of a bug was definitely here to save him, otherwise, the plot wouldn’t be able to progress.
This heavenly drop of a bug was undoubtedly part of the protagonist group too.
Thinking of this, Nanrong Chengyu’s mind settled slightly. He swept a look of looking at a mentally disabled person toward Nanrong Xian, mentally cursing a damned sick bastard, while still having to mind the restriction of not breaking his character setting. “If Imperial Elder Brother is uneasy, simply dispatch men to stand guard.”
“It’s just that I heard when His Majesty entered the East Palace that year and fell into a coma due to poison, the very first thing he did upon waking up was to make Imperial Elder Brother leave the bedchamber.”
“Furthermore, if His Majesty learns that Prince Su obstructed the Divine Emissary from saving him in every possible way and misunderstands Prince Su as a result, that wouldn’t be very good.”
His phrasing was tactful. According to the plot, on that day, Nanrong Chen had supposedly told this madman Nanrong Xian to get lost.
Nanrong Xian naturally remembered this. He glared at that group of useless, good-for-nothing imperial physicians to vent his anger. “Does your turn come to meddle in the relationship between this prince and His Majesty?”
Nanrong Chengyu made no further sound. Just let him act smug; the moment he ascended the throne, he would deal with this nervous cannon fodder Nanrong Xian first.
Seeing that Prince Xiang also addressed this white-clad person as a divine emissary, the civil and military officials of the entire court believed the man’s identity as a divine emissary by more than half.
Legend had it that the Wu God had protected Linyue for generations. The Chief Astrologer could communicate divine decrees, and the Chief Astrologer’s master was certainly worthy of the title Divine Emissary.
With the Divine Emissary arriving in person, it seemed His Majesty’s life was not destined to end. The factions of Prince Xiang and Prince Su glanced at each other once more, both sides feeling secretly glad they had not acted rashly just now.
While feeling fortunate, they did not forget to inwardly scorn the opposition: the old die-hards on the other side usually barked quite fiercely, yet the moment a real issue arose, they tucked their tails and hid faster than anyone else.
Xie Chen nodded slightly with a graceful bearing, bent down to push aside the twelve strands of crown beads before the emperor’s face, and properly adjusted them back into place. Then, he gathered Nanrong Chen’s waist into his arm and lightly scooped the person into his embrace.
The un-dried fresh blood on Nanrong Chen stained that moon-white robe, merging into the dark crimson patterns and dyeing them bright red. It rippled faintly, looking exceptionally bizarre.
This sudden change did not escape Zhou Yanzhi’s eyes. He asked with lingering suspicion, “May the Divine Emissary please inform us of His Majesty’s condition.”
Xie Chen frowned slightly, speaking under the gaze of several gazes, “He is not heavily injured. It’s just that his eyes are red from crying. This waist is also a mere handful, which shows how hard he has labored for the country.”
You call this not heavily injured? His Majesty would cry? Were these the key points? These words practically insulted all decency and propriety. The civil and military officials were furious yet dared not speak out. “It is the fault of us subjects; in the days to come, we shall surely assist His Majesty with all our heart.”
These words were originally meant merely as polite social formulas, but witnessing His Majesty resting unconsciously in this divine emissary’s arms with his imperial robes stained by heart-wrenching blood, the entire man devoid of any vitality, a crowd of old foxes unexpectedly generated a shred of genuine sincerity.
His Majesty had entered the East Palace at the age of fourteen, offering brilliant strategies one after another when attending court politics; at sixteen, he accompanied the army on an expedition, consecutively taking five cities of Xiwei and subduing barbarian minor states like Shule; ever since ascending the throne, his measures to purge court politics had already borne fruit. He was a rare talent among sovereigns.
It was simply a pity that he was destined not to be a benevolent monarch of Linyue.
“You all misunderstand. This emissary has no intention of placing blame, it just happened to see that every single one of you is broad in the girth and stout of body, so I casually brought it up.”
Once these words left his mouth, the officials nearly failed to hold onto their facial expressions. Zhou Yanzhi stepped forward once more to steer the conversation elsewhere. “Then we must trouble the Divine Emissary to look after His Majesty.”
“Grand Secretary Zhou thinks too highly of it,” Xie Chen carried the person in his arms and walked down the final flight of white jade steps. “This emissary has long been detached from the mortal world, and this is also my first time witnessing an event that drives a monarch to his death. I shall simply treat it as watching something fresh.”
The divine emissary’s sharp tongue was probably enough to make even Prince Su back down by three parts, let alone them. Forget about opening their mouths to refute; offering even a single word of echo would likely earn them a brand-new charge. The civil and military officials simply shut their mouths and played dead.
Seeing that no one else in the court spoke, Xie Chen left behind a single sentence, “Farewell. His Majesty is taking his monthly leave this month, matters of the court can be handled by you all as you see fit,” and drifted away.
When sending off this towering great Buddha, the mental fortitude of the officials had already been polished to a near-finish. Thus, when that thin, piercingly shrill cry of the Empress Dowager has arrived entered their ears, they no longer possessed much emotional fluctuation. Following standard procedure, they knelt to pay their respects and quietly awaited whatever followed next.
The Empress Dowager, who had consistently presented herself with a gentle and poised demeanor, hurried over leaning on Xuetang’s arm, her face filled with anxiety. “Grand Secretary Zhou, where is His Majesty? Is his condition serious?”
Speaking of blood ties and closeness, Prince Xiang and Prince Su held the highest status, yet the Empress Dowager had always treated the two of them with cold indifference and distance. This form of address Grand Secretary Zhou not only invisibly proved this point to the court officials, but simultaneously highlighted her trust in Zhou Yanzhi.
Naturally, the Empress Dowager’s deep maternal affection for her son was also deeply moving.
Nanrong Chengyu quietly watched this true birth mother of his perform. Placed in the modern era, if the Empress Dowager didn’t win an Oscar, he wouldn’t watch.
Taking advantage of the gap while the Empress Dowager engaged in verbal sparring with Zhou Yanzhi, he bent down to pick up the jade pieces shattered into several sections on the ground, brushed away the dust, and safely tucked them into his sleeve. When he raised his head again, the strange expression in his eyes had vanished completely. Meeting Nanrong Xian’s disgusted glare, he smiled sincerely.
Nanrong Xian returned a cold snort, cast one more glance at the empty imperial throne, and swept his sleeves to dismiss the court.
Benefiting from his usual behavioral style, no one went to stop him. The officials who longed for a peaceful dismissal could only shoot a wave of envious gazes toward his departing back.
“That is good then, that is good then. The Wu God blesses Linyue and protects my Chen’er,” the Empress Dowager nearly wept with joy after hearing Zhou Yanzhi’s account. “This matter is truly suspicious. His Majesty has always possessed a resilient character, he must have been bewitched by someone to become like this. This mourning mother has heard that this sword was presented to His Majesty by Gao Zhong, and we shall begin our investigation from him to severely punish the person who harmed His Majesty.”
“As for matters of court politics, this deep-palace woman knows very little, so we shall have to trouble Grand Secretary Zhou. I wonder if His Majesty left any further instructions?”
Nanrong Chengyu cupped his hands in response. “Reporting to the Empress Dowager, His Majesty has ordered this subject and Prince Su to jointly oversee state affairs.”
A trace of dissatisfaction stained the Empress Dowager’s brows. “Leaving aside whether this imperial edict was His Majesty’s original intent, the crown prince has not yet been established, and for two princes to act as regents is probably not in accordance with regulations.”
Nanrong Chengyu answered in a gentle tone, “What Mother Empress says is true. This subject is incompetent, but I am willing to do my utmost to share worries for His Majesty. I still hope Grand Secretary Zhou will offer guidance.”
Zhou Yanzhi had been bestowed the dragon-head walking staff, serving as an elder statesman of two reigns and the current chief grand secretary. At a time when His Majesty was afflicted with illness, taking charge of the overall situation was entirely unassailable. “Your Highness speaks too seriously; this is merely the duty that this old subject ought to fulfill.”
Since Grand Secretary Zhou put it that way, the Empress Dowager, who never normally interfered in court politics, had nothing more to say.
Prince Xiang’s faction felt a small measure of gratification. Prince Xiang had never been particularly astute, but fortunately this time he hadn’t openly brought up the matter of His Majesty abdicating the throne to him. Instead, he had crookedly dragged in Prince Su and invited Zhou Yanzhi, who enjoyed the deep trust of both the Empress Dowager and His Majesty, to anchor the situation.
In this manner, they could temporarily lead the state affairs to establish prestige without bearing the crime of coercing and bewitching His Majesty into abdication.
However, before their praise of playing the fool to conceal great wisdom could finish, they heard Prince Xiang bringing up whatever topic was guaranteed to fail. “This subject will also procure provisions as quickly as possible, and will not miss the opportunity to dispatch troops to Yuezhi.”
How could they possibly not know that Prince Xiang possessed the capability to procure provisions?
As expected, all the nominal supporters wore sickly complexions, mentally denouncing him for being ignorant of the immensity of heaven and earth.
Nanrong Chengyu had long felt that the book he transmigrated into was most likely an old-school gratifying web novel, where the plot tropes were more cliché than the last.
In comparison, the plot point of procuring provisions was chosen by himself, so it wasn’t too boring.
After stepping through the setup of the gratifying plot points in an orderly sequence, he looked toward the blood-stained imperial sword on the imperial dais. Only the gratifying points belonging to the villainous boss could truly be called satisfying.
In the dead of night, the moon hung above the willow branches.
The carved wooden window gave a squeaking groan twice. The chilly night breeze blew the candlelight, causing the flame to sway erratically, and Nanrong Chen instinctively raised a hand to block it.
Then he realized he probably hadn’t died, a surge of irritation rising within his heart. The system came out once more at an inopportune moment to harass him.
[System 365: Congratulations to the host for completing the mission of dispatching troops to Yuezhi, but please avoid harboring lucky chances and strictly abide by the plot arrangements.]
Nanrong Chen didn’t want to know how the mission was completed, finding it merely vexing. “Was it you who saved Us?”
[365: The host smoothly completed the mission. As a reward, the host’s vital signs are maintained until rescued by the protagonist group.]
[Congratulations to the host. With the reigning monarch abdicating and committing suicide, the tyrant persona’s 3D fullness increases by one, and the protagonist group’s charm increases substantially.]
[Detected that the host is super fierce, psychological counseling is about to take place. According to current book review data analysis: Villain Nan Rongchen is ruthless yet gentle, with a delicate body and soft skin, ultra-exquisite beautiful, strong, and tragic. Suggested counseling method: What’s wrong with having a bit of a temper? Just spoil him.]
[365: Mission two, humiliate Helian Yi through the spring hunt.]
Nanrong Chen hadn’t taken in a single word of the messy chatter, nor did he have the mind to guess where he currently resided, and temporarily didn’t care to mind which blind savior had rescued him.
Since he was alive, he’d go to sleep first.
The system was still chattering endlessly, reporting rule-breaking comments once more. He tugged at the brocade quilt and turned onto his side, when his pupils suddenly constricted sharply, and he instinctively groped beneath his pillow.
Simultaneously, [System 365: Didi, system error!]
Years of caution and suspicion had long since become like maggots dwelling in the bone. A dagger was placed beneath Nanrong Chen’s bedchamber pillow.
Logically speaking, he definitely shouldn’t be in his bedchamber at this moment, but that exquisitely crafted dagger was right here. He had no time to ponder further, laying the blade horizontally across a stretch of porcelain-white neck.
That person approached with utter disregard for life, the neck passing right through the short blade without encountering flesh or blood.
Nanrong Chen hadn’t believed in ghosts and deities in his past life, but since he could be reborn, he could accept this quite well now. This person possessed a charming physical appearance yet exuded an eerie, bone-chilling coldness, coupled with a trace of bizarre red mark between his brows. Most likely, he was a soul-reaping malevolent ghost.
That ghostly thing hooked two fingers and pressed close to the center of his brows, bringing a chilling sensation. “Tch, I saved you for nothing.”
“This seat even thoughtfully retrieved the dagger beneath your pillow for you, look, even this heart-knot token you used to pledge your love to someone else was brought back. Is this how you repay this seat?”
Xie Chen tossed the heart-knot casually toward the head of the bed, his fingertip rubbing lightly and heavily across the completely un-faded red trace at the corner of Nanrong Chen’s eyes. “What, you still want to follow your good disciple to the Bureau of Astronomy to become a dao-martyring lonely wandering ghost?”
Nanrong Chen lowered his gaze to stare at that heart-knot tossed away so casually. His fingertips twitched slightly, but in the end, he didn’t pick it up. The dagger passed through that icy neck as if through nothingness. He simply withdrew his hand, his tone cold, “Us remembers dying once.”
“Why doesn’t Us remember a savior looking like this ghostly specimen.”
Xie Chen let out a soft laugh, sitting down smoothly on the edge of the bed frame. The red patterns on his robes rippled faintly like living creatures in the dim candlelight. “A person who has died once has quite grown a temper. What, you despise this face of mine?”
“As the grand Wu God making a personal appearance, this bedchamber of Ours simply glows with your presence,” Nanrong Chen closed his eyes, pulling his lips back in fatigue. “What, do you feel that initial sword strike failed to shatter the divine statue, so you came specially to harvest souls?”
“Harvesting souls is out of the question,” Xie Chen leaned forward, his chilling fingertips pinching Nanrong Chen’s chin to force him to look up, his tone ambiguous and dangerous. “The person this seat has taken a fancy to, even if he dies in the halls of Yama, must still be snatched back for this seat.”
“Lingjun, this life of yours belongs to this seat from now on.”