However, there was one thing Tang Shen guessed wrong: Wang Zifeng was indeed seriously ill.

Originally, he had caught a cold, and then he braved the wind and snow to personally go to the outskirts of the city to pick up Tang Shen. That night, Wang Zhen developed a high fever and fell into a deep sleep, unable to wake. Tang Shen hurriedly called for a doctor, who prescribed medicine, and Tang Shen stayed by his bedside for two nights.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Zhao Fu would never have imagined in his lifetime that by sending Tang Shen to Youzhou, he had hoped Tang Shen would help share Wang Zhen’s burdens and handle the affairs with the Liao State properly. Instead, not only were the tasks not completed, but Wang Zifeng fell ill because of Tang Shen, and Tang Shen, in turn, delayed his own duties to care for him. No wonder office romances were discouraged in the modern world—it was entirely reasonable.

On the second night, Wang Zhen’s fever gradually subsided. Tang Shen, having not slept for a full day and night, finally felt relieved and fell asleep by the bedside.

When Wang Zhen woke up, he saw his little junior brother sleeping soundly with his head resting on his hand.

He didn’t wake Tang Shen but instead watched him with great interest for a long time. When Tang Shen woke up, he was startled to find Wang Zhen awake. After a moment of surprise, he asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Quite well.”

Tang Shen breathed a sigh of relief, “When did you wake up, Senior Brother?”

“About an hour ago.”

Tang Shen was surprised, “That long? Why didn’t you wake me?”

Wang Zhen’s lips moved, but he didn’t say anything.

Usually, when he teased his little junior brother, he never held back his words. Seeing Tang Shen either annoyed or anxious always delighted him. But when it came to genuine expressions of affection, he no longer spoke them aloud. How could he say that seeing Tang Shen worried and sleepless for his sake filled him with immense joy?

After a long pause, Wang Zhen said sincerely, “Jing Ze, I really like you so much.”

Tang Shen’s heart warmed, but he was also puzzled, “Why are you suddenly saying this?”

Wang Zhen, “I’m thirsty. Little Junior Brother, could you fetch me a cup of water?”

Tang Shen was utterly baffled but got up to get the water.

Why say this now?

Because in thirty years of life, I never imagined I could like someone this much.

When emotions run deep, they become hard to control. A thousand words ultimately boil down to one sentence: I truly like you so much.

Of course, there was plenty of sweetness and affection, but Tang Shen hadn’t forgotten that he hadn’t come to Youzhou just to date his boyfriend. He was here on official business. As soon as Wang Zifeng recovered, Tang Shen went to the Silver Pull Division to meet with Wang Xiao and Mei Shengze.

Last year, Tang Shen had sent the two to Youzhou to take charge of the Silver Pull Division. Now, half a year later, they had quietly settled in Youzhou. On the surface, they were officials of the Silver Pull Division, but privately, they had established channels to communicate regularly with Qiao Jiu in Xijin Prefecture. The two sides exchanged messages every half month, and in urgent situations, Qiao Jiu would return to Youzhou to discuss matters with Wang Xiao and Mei Shengze.

Seeing Tang Shen arrive, both men were delighted.

They welcomed Tang Shen inside.

“Youzhou’s winters are bitterly cold. Jing Ze, why did you come here?” Mei Shengze handed Tang Shen a warming hand heater as he spoke. Although his official rank was lower than Tang Shen’s, the two were old classmates and friends, so their relationship wasn’t overly formal.

Wang Xiao, on the other hand, didn’t engage in small talk. He stirred the charcoal in the brazier and then handed Tang Shen the intelligence report Qiao Jiu had sent just a few days earlier. “Daren, three days ago, Qiao Jiu sent a report saying the Liao Emperor is going to Xijin Prefecture for a hunt. The Liao Emperor’s birthday has just passed, and with Grand Preceptor Yelü Ding dismissed from his post, the Grand Preceptor’s faction has suffered a major blow. However, the Second Prince’s faction hasn’t gained much advantage either. Over the past few months, Yelü Ding has been frequently suppressing Yelü Shege.”

Mei Shengze added, “The Liao State is not like the Great Song. The Liao Emperor fought on the battlefield in his youth and is domineering and decisive. But over the past decade or so, the other tribes have gradually grown stronger. The Liao Emperor, having suffered various injuries in his youth, has found it increasingly difficult to manage court affairs as he ages. Therefore, the Liao Emperor’s preferred successor is the Second Prince, Yelü Shege, but Grand Preceptor Yelü Ding supports the Third Prince. This hunt in Xijin Prefecture will be hosted by the Second Prince.”

Tang Shen nodded slightly, “How is the Liao Emperor’s current condition?”

Wang Xiao and Mei Shengze exchanged a glance.

Tang Shen frowned, “The Liao Emperor’s health has been deteriorating. You must know this. Even if Yelü Ding holds immense power, he wouldn’t dare to overstep the Liao Emperor. The Liao Emperor favors the Second Prince as his successor, and Xiao Zhen, being part of the Second Prince’s faction, is naturally aligned with the Liao Emperor. The Liao Emperor is the one we should truly be trying to get close to.”

Wang Xiao said, “I will immediately write a secret letter and send it to Qiao Jiu.”

The three of them chatted for a while longer before turning to more personal matters.

Wang Xiao had come to Youzhou last year and had settled down there. He was a distant relative of Wang Zhen, and last year, when Wang Xiao went to Ningzhou to oversee the repair of official roads, he had received a letter of recommendation from Wang Zhen, which made his work in Ningzhou go much more smoothly. Now that Wang Zhen was also in Youzhou, Wang Xiao had naturally visited him early on and had heard about Wang Zhen’s cold.

Wang Xiao, “Is Wang xianggong‘s health better now?”

Tang Shen, “Senior Brother is fine.”

Wang Xiao breathed a sigh of relief, “That’s good to hear.”

Mei Shengze said, “Jing Ze, you know this. You didn’t spend much time at the Imperial Academy, so you’re not very familiar with the teachers. I’m old friends with Teacher Xu, and he has always looked out for me. A few days ago, he wrote me a letter mentioning Liu Fang.”

Tang Shen, “Liu Fang?” After thinking for a moment, he recalled the name from the depths of his memory.

Six years ago, when Tang Shen was still studying at the Imperial Academy, Liu Fang was one of the most outstanding students. That year, when the emperor visited the academy, Tang Shen took first place, and Liu Fang came in second. Later, they both passed the imperial examination and became jinshi in the same year.

Mei Shengze, “That’s the Liu Fang I’m talking about. It’s truly lamentable. You might not know this, but after Liu Fang passed the imperial examination, he didn’t stay in Shengjing for long. He went to Yangzhou to take up an official post. If it were just that, it wouldn’t be a big deal, but over the years, he gradually became part of the Ji faction. He should have been thriving, but who could have expected…” Mei Shengze paused before continuing, “Who could have expected what happened in the first month of this year? Liu Fang was implicated, dismissed from his post, and stripped of his rank. What kind of person he was, you might not know, but I do. At the Imperial Academy, he was always arrogant and ambitious, aiming for the top three in the exams. Now, as a disgraced official stripped of his rank, how could he bear it?”

Tang Shen had already guessed what was coming next, “What happened to Liu Fang?”

Mei Shengze sighed, “Teacher Xu had just attended his funeral before writing me this letter. He hanged himself!”

Tang Shen let out a long sigh, feeling greatly affected.

With Prime Minister Ji’s downfall, the situation seemed calm on the surface. The emperor hadn’t drastically reshuffled the court, only promoting Right Vice Prime Minister Xu to stabilize the overall situation. But beneath this apparent calm, how many officials had been destroyed by this storm? It was impossible to know.

Liu Fang was just one shadow among the countless officials affected. How many others like him were there?

In the evening, Tang Shen returned to the residence. As soon as he entered, he saw a middle-aged man in official robes leaving. The two crossed paths, and the man immediately bowed, “This lower official,  Lin Xu, greets Tang daren.”

Tang Shen nodded slightly.

The two didn’t speak further, and Tang Shen walked through the gate. After searching for a while, he finally found Wang Zhen in the study.

Wang Zifeng was someone who never mistreated himself. Even in the remote Youzhou, his study was filled with the faint scent of incense. It wasn’t an expensive or rare fragrance, but the smoke curled gently. On the wall hung several ink paintings of chrysanthemums, which, upon closer inspection, turned out to be Wang Zifeng’s own work. These paintings were now priceless, as Wang Zhen was personally named “the unparalleled top scholar” by Zhao Fu and was renowned throughout the land.

Seeing Tang Shen arrive, Wang Zhen beckoned, “Jing Ze.”

Tang Shen walked over, “Was Lin Xu here to see you just now, Senior Brother? Was it something important?”

Wang Zhen, “Nothing major. Sit.”

Tang Shen sat down, and Wang Zhen suddenly began setting up a chessboard.

Tang Shen: “…”

“…Chess?”

Wang Zhen, while arranging the pieces, looked up at Tang Shen and let out a soft “Hmm,” his voice tinged with amusement and a hint of deliberate confusion to continue the conversation with an explanation.

Tang Shen said helplessly, “It’s been so long since we last played chess, Senior Brother!”

Wang Zhen feigned surprise, “Has it?”

Tang Shen, “At least… half a year?”

Wang Zhen said self-reproachfully, “So you enjoy playing chess with me this much. I hadn’t realized. Don’t worry, from now on, I’ll play a game with you every day.”

Tang Shen: “…”

Who wants to play chess with you?!

Tang Shen didn’t consider himself a masochist. Why would he play chess with Wang Zhen and let himself be utterly trounced? Instinctively, he wanted to refuse, but Wang Zhen had already set up the board and handed him the box of black pieces. Who could refuse Wang Zifeng? Tang Shen naturally took the box, only to regret it immediately afterward.

Holding the box, Tang Shen said honestly, “It’s not like I can beat you.”

Wang Zhen smiled, “What did you just say, little Junior Brother?”

Tang Shen: “…”

Do you really need to hear it again?

Tang Shen expressionlessly tossed the box aside, “I can’t beat you. I won’t play.”

Wang Zhen laughed heartily for a while, then took Tang Shen’s hand and placed the box back in his palm. “The world is like a game of chess. How do you know you can’t beat me if you haven’t even tried? At the very least, you’ve already won one thing—you’ve won me over. Look, Jing Ze, isn’t this the most brilliant move you’ve ever made?”

Tang Shen, both amused and exasperated by his teasing, said, “Who wants to win you over? What good is having you in my hands?”

Wang Zhen sighed earnestly, “Those who have don’t know how to cherish. You’re truly blessed but don’t realize it!”

Tang Shen ignored him.

Who ever heard of someone praising themselves so shamelessly!

In the end, Tang Shen still played chess with Wang Zhen.

Wang Zhen was exceptionally skilled at chess. In his life, Tang Shen had only played chess with three people: Liang Song, Fu Xiru, and Wang Zifeng. Among them, Fu Xiru was the worst, followed by Liang Song, and Wang Zhen was the best. However, even Fu Xiru could beat Tang Shen five times over.

Tang Shen played absentmindedly, not expecting to win, but Wang Zhen deliberately fed him pieces, creating the illusion of an evenly matched game.

Tang Shen became interested. After playing for a while, just as he thought he might win, Wang Zhen delivered a decisive move, cutting off his momentum.

Tang Shen threw down his piece, “I’m done!”

Wang Zhen laughed, “You quit just because you lost?”

Tang Shen said matter-of-factly, “Who would keep playing after losing?”

Wang Zhen looked at him deeply, about to speak, but Tang Shen cut him off, “Don’t say it. I’ve grown bold with favoritism.”

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Wang Zhen was momentarily stunned, then burst into laughter. He stood up, hugged Tang Shen, and kissed him. Tang Shen was caught off guard, and by the time he realized what had happened, his ears turned slightly red. Just as he was about to protest in embarrassment, Wang Zhen said, “On that cold night in the first month, did you stay up all night?”

Tang Shen was taken aback. He composed himself and looked up, “Uncle said he didn’t understand, and neither do I. But Senior Brother… do you understand?”

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Liao State, Shangjing, Dading Prefecture.

It happened to be the Liao Emperor’s birthday, and the entire city of Shangjing was decorated with lanterns and banners as the people celebrated the emperor’s longevity. The Liao people did not have as many rules and formalities as the Song. For the emperor’s birthday, a grand procession would travel from the east gate to the west gate, distributing ten thousand cups of wine to the people, symbolizing “sharing joy with the people.” Thus, the Liao Emperor’s birthday was a joyous occasion for the Liao people, who took to the streets to catch a glimpse of the imperial carriage.

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However, the person sitting in the imperial carriage was not necessarily the Liao Emperor. Last year, during the emperor’s birthday, it was the Second Prince, Yelü Shege, who represented the emperor and distributed the ten thousand cups of wine. This year, it was the Third Prince, Yelü Han, who sat in the carriage. Holding a wine jar, his chest exposed, he laughed heartily and said to the guard general beside him, “Drink up! We won’t return until we’re drunk!”

The grand procession of ten thousand cups of wine lasted six hours before it finally concluded.

The Third Prince, Yelü Han, presented the wine offered by the people to the Liao Emperor, saying, “Imperial Father, this is the respect of your subjects!”

The Liao Emperor laughed heartily and drank the entire jar of wine in one go.

With that, the Liao Emperor’s birthday banquet officially began.

The Third Prince, Yelü Han, was currently the most influential figure in the Liao court. His teacher was the Grand Preceptor, Yelü Ding. Although last year, Yelü Ding had been imprisoned for attempting to assassinate Yelü Qin, the Third Prince’s faction remained the most powerful. Yelü Ding alone was enough to stabilize the situation.

The Second Prince, Yelü Shege, sat at the banquet, drinking wine from a jar like the other Liao officials. He frowned and set the jar aside. Yelü Qin leaned over and asked, “Your Highness, do you not like this jar of Shaoye wine? Shall I fetch you another?”

Yelü Shege, “No need.”

It wasn’t the wine he disliked, but the sight of all the Liao people at the banquet drinking heavily and tearing meat apart with their hands.

Even the Liao Emperor, as noble as he was, held a wine jar and poured it directly into his mouth, staining the entire front of his robe with wine.

Three months ago, Yelü Shege had hurriedly left the Song capital and returned to Nanjing’s Xijin Prefecture. As expected, the day after his return, envoys from Grand Preceptor Yelü Ding arrived from Shangjing. Officially, they claimed the Grand Preceptor had matters to discuss with him, but in reality, they were there to verify whether he was still in Xijin Prefecture.

Yelü Shege’s timely return had averted a crisis.

After personally visiting the Song Dynasty, Yelü Shege suddenly realized that the Song court was far less treacherous than the Liao State. The Song people were reserved, and the Song Emperor was weak. Moreover, the Kaiping Emperor had been gravely ill for some time and likely didn’t have long to live. But what about the Liao State?

The Liao Emperor had fought many battles in his youth, leaving him with numerous injuries and ailments. However, a starved camel is still larger than a horse. The Liao Emperor was ruthless and bloodthirsty. He didn’t need to understand the intricacies of court politics because no one in the Liao State dared to challenge the Liao Emperor’s authority—not even Grand Preceptor Yelü Ding.

The Liao Emperor was like a sleeping tiger, while the Grand Preceptor was a coiled serpent on a branch.

The two stood in opposition, yet there was no inevitable conflict of interest between them. If anything, the Grand Preceptor supported the Third Prince, Yelü Han, and wanted to make him the Crown Prince. Although the Liao Emperor never explicitly stated it, he paid more attention to Yelü Shege, favoring this second son of humble origins.

“Shege, next month, accompany me to Nanshan for a hunt. Let me see if your archery skills have dulled!”

Yelü Shege snapped out of his thoughts, stood up, and struck his chest with his fist in salute. “Your son will surely shoot down an eagle as a belated birthday gift for you, Imperial Father.”

The Liao Emperor laughed heartily.

By late February, spring had arrived in most parts of the Great Song. Tang Shen traveled north alone in a carriage, heading westward. As the days passed, the weather should have grown warmer, but the further north he went, the colder it became. On the eighth day, the carriage finally arrived ten miles outside Youzhou City.

Thick snowflakes fell from the sky, blanketing the ground in silver.

Tang Shen sat in the carriage, holding a warming hand heater and flipping through a poetry collection. At that moment, the coachman said, “Daren, it seems someone is waiting ahead.”

Tang Shen lifted the carriage curtain and saw a few people standing outside a small pavilion about a kilometer away.

Youzhou was not like other cities in the Great Song. Few commoners traveled to Youzhou, so if someone was waiting ten miles outside the city, it was almost certainly for him. Tang Shen said, “It must be the Youzhou officials, knowing I’m coming, waiting for me there. Stop by the pavilion when we reach it.”

“Yes, daren.”

Tang Shen placed the poetry collection in the carriage drawer, straightened his robes, and stepped out of the carriage. As soon as he stepped out, a biting cold wind pierced through him, and Tang Shen shivered. He looked up at the people waiting outside the pavilion and immediately recognized the Youzhou Governor, Ji Zhaosi.

However, Tang Shen’s gaze swept past him and landed on the person standing behind Ji Zhaosi.

His heart trembled violently as he stared at Wang Zhen. After a long moment, he said, “This lower official, Tang Shen, greets the Grand Secretary of the Left.”

Wang Zhen was draped in a snow-white fox fur cloak, his gaze clear as he looked at Tang Shen. With a single glance, the two understood each other. Wang Zhen slowly raised his hand, “No need for formalities… hai hai.”

Tang Shen immediately asked, “Senior Brother, are you ill?”

In his urgency, he forgot to address Wang Zhen formally and called him “Senior Brother” instead.

Wang Zhen coughed for a while, and Qin Si, standing beside him, explained, “Daren stayed up late handling official business a few days ago and caught a cold. He only fell ill yesterday. It’s not a serious illness, but it came on strong, so it looks worse than it is.”

Tang Shen breathed a slight sigh of relief.

The group returned to Youzhou City together.

Since Wang Zifeng was ill, Ji Zhaosi, who had originally planned to host a banquet for Tang Shen, had to cancel it so that Wang Zhen could rest early. Tang Shen supported Wang Zhen and took him to the residence where the two would stay in Youzhou. This residence had been specially prepared by Youzhou Governor Ji Zhaosi. Since the Silver Pull Division was established in Youzhou, its highest-ranking official naturally needed a place to stay in the city.

Ji Zhaosi escorted Tang Shen and Wang Zhen to the residence by carriage and said, “Tang daren, you don’t have a residence in Youzhou. You’ve arrived too suddenly—I haven’t had a chance to prepare one yet. In a few days, it will be ready.”

Tang Shen replied matter-of-factly, “No need. I don’t come to Youzhou often. I can just stay with Wang daren.”

Ji Zhaosi didn’t think much of it. “Understood.”

Tang Shen helped Wang Zhen into the residence. Their wide sleeves concealed their hands, and Wang Zifeng took the opportunity to clasp Tang Shen’s hand, their fingers intertwining. Tang Shen paused momentarily, but before he could react, Wang Zifeng leaned his head on Tang Shen’s shoulder.

Minister Wang whispered, “Jing Ze…”

Tang Shen: “…?”

“Jing Ze…”

“I’m here.”

“I’m not going to make it.”

“…What?!”

Minister Wang said, “We’re not married yet. If I die first, you won’t get a single coin from my estate. And my estate is quite substantial. I have three manors in Shengjing, and shops on three streets in Shengjing, Northern Zhili, and Southern Zhili. In fact, I also own a dye workshop and a cloth shop in your hometown, Gusu. And in Jinling, which is the Wang family’s stronghold, most of my assets are there…”

Tang Shen was dumbfounded, “As the Minister of Revenue, you’ve embezzled this much?!”

Wang Zhen, “Embezzled? How could you think that of me? Half of this was your mother-in-law’s dowry… hai hai… How could you hit me? I’m sick.”

“Then speak properly!”

Wang Zhen laughed and leaned heavily on Tang Shen. “My mother only had one son, so her dowry naturally belongs to me, and in the future, it will belong to you too. You haven’t even heard the best part yet. In Jinling, do you know about the Qinhuai River?”

Tang Shen exclaimed in shock, “Don’t tell me the Qinhuai River is also under your name!”

Wang Zhen let out an involuntary laugh, “The Qinhuai River is part of the Great Song’s territory. How could it belong to me alone? But there are two highly profitable restaurants by the Qinhuai River that are mine.”

“Are the singing girls yours too?”

Wang Zhen said cheerfully, “If I told you I own a few pleasure boats, would you be angry?”

“I wouldn’t be angry.”

“Good, then I do own a few… Ai, little Junior Brother!”

Tang Shen pushed him away and strode into the house.

Wang Zhen immediately chased after him, complaining grievously, “You said you wouldn’t be angry.”

Tang Shen looked him up and down, “Of course I’m not angry. Why would I be? What does it matter if you own a few pleasure boats? Do you even like women?”

Wang Zhen hugged him tightly and laughed loudly, “If you say that, I’ll be heartbroken.”

Tang Shen thought to himself: You look perfectly happy right now, thinking I’m jealous!

In truth, Tang Shen wasn’t jealous. If Wang Zifeng could casually fall for a few singing girls, how could he have remained single until the age of twenty-nine? He was simply amazed. This guy is loaded! So annoyingly loaded! He had worked hard to earn his fortune, from Tang’s Logistics to Xixia Tower, and only after opening Baibao Pavilion could he claim to be wealthy. But who would have thought that a true rich heir like Wang Zhen, with just his mother’s dowry, could be so wealthy?

Tang Shen fell silent for a moment, “I gave you a ten percent share of Baibao Pavilion.”

Wang Zhen said sincerely, “Jing Ze, you’re really good at making money. The annual profits from that small Baibao Pavilion are almost as much as all my shops combined.”

Tang Shen was about to say, “Since you’re so rich, why don’t you return my shares?” But after being showered with such flattery, he hesitated and couldn’t bring himself to say it.

Wang Zhen, “Let’s get back to the main topic. Jing Ze, I’m not going to make it.” After saying this, he leaned on Tang Shen’s shoulder again. “If I die, none of my assets will belong to you. That won’t do… I remember you have an elder cousin.”

Tang Shen, “? I only have a younger sister.”

“Not Tang Huang, I mean your cousin in Gusu Prefecture.”

“You mean Tang Yun? He’s my cousin on my father’s side, not my mother’s side. My mother was an only child.”

Wang Zhen frowned but continued, “That’s close enough. According to family customs, if I die, you should go to him and have him help you reclaim my assets from the Langya Wang family. To do that, you’ll need to tell him that you and I are lovers… hai hai.”

Tang Shen pushed him away again, “Aren’t you supposed to be sick?!”

Wang Zhen, “Yes, I’m sick. Very sick.”

Tang Shen: “…”

You don’t look sick at all when you’re scheming!

“Do you know why I got sick?”

“Qin Si said it was because you stayed up late handling official business?”

Wang Zhen gently embraced Tang Shen. He wanted to kiss him but remembered he was sick and didn’t want to pass the illness to Tang Shen, so he held back. He chuckled softly, his voice warm and clear but slightly hoarse, “You were coming, so I wanted to finish as much work as possible beforehand. That way, when you arrived, we could spend more time together. It’s been three months since I last saw you. I really want to kiss you.”

Tang Shen looked up at him, his lips parting slightly, “Senior Brother…”

Wang Zhen, “I’m afraid of passing the sickness to you, so I’ll have to let it go for now.”

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Tang Shen was even more moved.

Minister Wang rarely acted like a decent human being, so how could he let such a touching moment be wasted on himself alone? Such a losing deal would never exist in his vocabulary.

Holding his little junior brother, Minister Wang deeply felt that he was indeed a once-in-a-century, once-in-a-millennium gentleman.

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At sunset, Li Xiaoren, the Chief Astronomer of the Astronomical Bureau, entered the palace, dressed in a Taoist robe adorned with the Eight Trigrams and holding a horsetail whisk. Two young disciples followed closely behind him. On the night of the palace coup on the seventh day of the first lunar month, Li Xiaoren had been bedridden with illness and was absent from the palace. It was his two disciples who had remained at the Immortal Ascension Platform.

Now recovered and summoned by the emperor, Li Xiaoren strode into the palace with an air of arrogance.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

His two disciples, however, were trembling with fear, not daring to lift their heads. It had not been Li Xiaoren who had cowered in terror that night, shivering throughout the chaos—it had been them. Only those who had experienced that night of panic and horror could understand how terrifying the imperial palace truly was. Had the imperial guards stormed the Immortal Ascension Platform and cut them down, their deaths would have been in vain, and no one would have uttered a word of grievance on their behalf.

When Li Xiaoren arrived at the Immortal Ascension Platform, the Chief Eunuch Ji Fu was already waiting outside the hall.

Seeing Ji Fu, Li Xiaoren quickly approached him with a fawning smile. “Ji gonggong.”

Ji Fu returned the smile. “Li daren. His Majesty has been troubled by many matters lately; you must tread carefully.”

Li Xiaoren bowed slightly. “Many thanks for your guidance, Ji gonggong.” With that, he entered the Immortal Ascension Platform.

Two hours later, Li Xiaoren emerged, letting out a long breath of relief. He felt invigorated, his face glowing with satisfaction. Having been suppressed by the monk Shanting for an entire year, Li Xiaoren now basked in victory—Shanting had been beheaded in a public execution, the emperor had abandoned Buddhism in favor of Taoism, and in the end, Li Xiaoren had triumphed.

In high spirits, he instructed his disciple to slip a few gold leaves to Ji Fu and flattered him, saying, “From tomorrow onward, this lower official will be attending the Immortal Ascension Platform daily. Ji gonggong, serving His Majesty is an arduous task; you must take care of your health.”

Ji Fu accepted the gold leaves without a change in expression and smiled. “Li daren should take care of himself as well.”

Li Xiaoren left with his disciples, walking with a spring in his step, brimming with smugness.

“What an opportunistic scoundrel,” a voice muttered.

Ji Fu turned to see his godson and frowned. “And is that something you should be saying?”

The young eunuch, Xie Bao, lowered his head, sulking. “Yes, but I’m not wrong, am I?”

Ji Fu sighed. “Mind your tongue. This is none of your concern.”

Xie Bao murmured assent and was soon sent off to handle errands in the imperial harem. Yet, as Ji Fu watched Li Xiaoren and his two young disciples leave, he couldn’t help but feel the same way.

How foolish Li Xiaoren was—so foolish that he could so confidently believe Zhao Fu to be a ruler devoted to Taoism.

Zhao Fu was a man who, in his entire life, had believed neither in gods nor in Buddha. He believed only in himself.

After the coup in the first month, Ji Fu suddenly felt that he understood Zhao Fu more than ever. On the day Zhao Fu summoned Ji Wengji, Ji Fu had stood outside, listening to every word of their conversation. Ji Wengji had described Zhao Fu as a ruler of supreme intelligence yet utterly self-serving. But Ji Fu thought that “self-serving” was no longer an adequate description—Zhao Fu, for more than sixty years, had seen only himself.

Having served Zhao Fu for over fifty years, Ji Fu now felt a chill in his heart.

Xie Bao had considered Li Xiaoren a petty opportunist because he sympathized with the late monk Shanting. Unlike this bootlicking fraud of a Taoist, Shanting had been approachable, never currying favor with high-ranking officials, never singling out Ji Fu for flattery while ignoring other eunuchs. He had been well-liked by the palace eunuchs and maids alike.

“Buddha saves only those with affinity. Master Shanting, you truly wished to save our emperor, but your powers were not enough. You couldn’t save him,” Ji Fu lamented in his heart. Perhaps he was the last person in the world mourning the monk.

After court was dismissed, Tang Shen returned home to find Tang Huang vividly recounting a story to Aunt Yao and Feng Bi.

“…The great monk pressed his hands together in a mudra, knelt at the execution ground, and began chanting sutras. The most miraculous thing was that as he chanted, the executioners froze, the gathered crowd fell silent, and everyone listened in awe. With each word he spoke, lotus flowers bloomed on the ground, covering the entire execution site in a sea of blossoms.”

“Why not just say he spit golden lotuses and achieved enlightenment on the spot?”

Tang Huang turned her head and saw Tang Shen. She gasped, eyes wide. “Wait, did that really happen? The monk actually spit golden lotuses and became a Buddha?”

Tang Shen: “…”

“Of course not! Where did you even hear such nonsense? During an execution, the condemned’s hands are chained behind their back—how could they press them together? The moment the appointed time arrives, the execution proceeds without delay—do you think the executioners would just stop? I’ve told you before, don’t believe every wild rumor you hear. They’re all fake.”

Aunt Yao sighed. “Ah, so it wasn’t real. I thought those monks were really that miraculous.”

Tang Shen had nothing to say to that.

The common folk had no idea what truly transpired during the coup in the first month. They believed it was a case of a treacherous monk bringing disaster upon the nation. But it wasn’t just them—many officials in the capital were equally clueless. The people turned it into a tale for idle chatter, crafting multiple versions of the story. Even the Tang family’s Xixia Tower had adopted it as a supernatural legend, spinning a tale of a Taoist priest vanquishing an evil monk.

As February approached, Tang Shen was summoned to the palace.

Zhao Fu had regained his usual demeanor. Seated on the imperial throne, he reviewed memorials. Ji Fu led Tang Shen into Chuigong Hall, where Zhao Fu set down his scroll, looked up, and smiled. “It seems I haven’t seen you in a long time, Jing Ze.”

Tang Shen bowed. “Your subject greets Your Majesty.”

Zhao Fu gestured for him to step closer. “Come closer so we can speak.”

Tang Shen took two steps forward.

Zhao Fu sighed. “Still as youthful and brilliant as ever. But I… I have grown old.”

By now, it was almost instinct for Tang Shen to prepare a flattering remark, but Zhao Fu gave him no chance to speak, continuing, “I have little time left, yet I still have so much unfinished business. Jing Ze, your senior brother has been in Youzhou for quite some time now. How has he been?”

Tang Shen thought that Zhao Fu probably knew more about Wang Zifeng’s situation than he did. “I have not seen my senior brother in a long time, but he is meticulous in his work. Since arriving in Youzhou, he must be accomplishing tasks with great efficiency.”

Zhao Fu laughed. “Then you should go to Youzhou and assist him.”

Tang Shen was startled but maintained his composure. “I obey Your Majesty’s command.”

Zhao Fu sighed. “I truly hope to see my wishes fulfilled before I close my eyes forever!”

Tang Shen understood—Zhao Fu was not merely sending him to assist Wang Zifeng with the Silver Pull Division. His true objective was Liao.

The Great Song had stood for over a hundred years, with a total of nine emperors. During the reign of Emperor Xunzong, the Song and Liao States were locked in years of war, ultimately ending in a devastating defeat for the Song. As a result, they were forced to cede 1,400,700 hectares of land in the northwest and pay annual tributes.

By the time of the previous emperor, the dynasty pursued relentless militarization and waged fierce battles against Liao, finally putting an end to the humiliating tributes.

When Emperor Kaiping ascended the throne, he waged another decade-long war against Liao, successfully reclaiming the three prefectures of Youzhou. However, 600,300 hectares of Song territory still remained under Liao occupation.

To have achieved this much, Emperor Zhao Fu had already secured his place in history. But he was not satisfied. What he sought was to become a true, enlightened ruler of his age.

After leaving Chuigong Hall, Tang Shen went straight to the Censorate to prepare for his journey to Youzhou.

He did not notice that just as he stepped out of the hall, another official, dressed in a deep-red second-rank robe, was approaching from another palace path. The two narrowly missed crossing paths, but the official saw Tang Shen.

Yu Chaosheng stopped in his tracks. The eunuch beside him turned and asked, “Yu daren?”

Minister of Justice Yu Chaosheng said, “It’s nothing, let’s keep going.”

Soon, Yu Chaosheng entered Chuigong Hall to pay his respects to Zhao Fu.

By midday, Minister Yu returned to Qinzheng Hall, where he sought out his teacher, the current Left Prime Minister, Xu Bi.

After Ji Wengji was stripped of his position, no one had expected that the one to succeed him as Left Prime Minister in Qinzheng Hall would not be Right Prime Minister Wang Quan but the seemingly unremarkable Right Vice Prime Minister, Xu Bi. Now, Xu Bi sat in the very same hall that once belonged to Ji Wengji, conversing with Minister of Rites Meng Lang. Upon seeing Yu Chaosheng arrive, Meng Lang said, “I shall not interrupt Xu xianggong and Yu daren’s reunion as teacher and student.” With that, he rose and took his leave.

Once Meng Lang had departed, Xu Bi and Yu Chaosheng sat together on the Luohan couch, sipping tea.

Yu Chaosheng set down his cup and sighed, “Though half a month has passed, I still feel as if I am in a dream.”

Xu Bi asked, “What kind of dream?”

Yu Chaosheng hesitated. “To be honest, it is somewhat embarrassing and laughable, so I won’t trouble you with it. It’s just that this coup in the first month was like trying to see flowers through the mist—I still haven’t made sense of it.”

“What is it that you don’t understand?”

Yu Chaosheng carefully recounted his thoughts. “…I may not understand everything, but I have always followed your teachings. One does not need to grasp everything—knowing just a little is enough to ensure one’s safety. So I choose not to be curious.”

“Are you truly not curious?”

Yu Chaosheng shook his head. “Truly, I am not.”

Xu Bi chuckled. “Oh, you, you’ve had this wooden personality for over a decade.”

Yu Chaosheng smiled but did not respond.

How could he truly not be curious? But he knew well that the more one knew, the sooner one would meet their end. Especially under this emperor—Zhao Fu was never a ruler to be manipulated. The downfall of Ji Wengji was proof enough. Prime Minister Ji had seen too much, and that was precisely why he had ended up where he was. Yu Chaosheng did not know what Prime Minister Ji had discovered, but he was certain he did not want to find out.

Yu Chaosheng said, “Today, outside Chuigong Hall, I ran into Tang Jingze again.”

Xu Bi raised a brow. “Again?”

“Yes. I had just received an imperial decree summoning me to the palace when Tang daren walked out of Chuigong Hall. But once again, he did not see me—only I saw him.” Yu Chaosheng sighed. “I feel as if there is some inexplicable connection between me and Tang daren. I have never believed in Buddhism or Taoism, but as Minister of Justice, I was the one who oversaw the execution of Shanting a few days ago. Under the scorching sun, he was pressed onto the execution platform, yet his expression never wavered—he continued reciting Buddhist scriptures. In that moment, I felt as if I had seen the Buddha himself.”

Xu Bi remarked meaningfully, “Shanting was no ordinary man.”

Yu Chaosheng frowned. “Teacher?”

“A year ago, when he had just entered the palace, I met him briefly in front of the Immortal Ascension Platform. We exchanged a few words, and from his tone, I could tell—he already knew that he would likely never leave this palace alive.”

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“He foresaw what would happen a year later?”

“Not necessarily. He simply had clarity of mind—he saw through our emperor’s thoughts at a single glance.”

Who in this world truly understood Zhao Fu the most?

Ji Wengji?

Shanting?

Xu Bi took a slow sip of his tea, lost in thought.

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Ji Wengji spoke in a calm, measured voice, uttering each treasonous and heart-piercing statement as if the surface of a tranquil lake, undisturbed by the breeze, yet concealing raging waves beneath. With every word he spoke, Zhao Fu’s expression twisted further, his eyes nearly bursting with fury as he glared at Ji Wengji, murder in his gaze.

Yet, as Ji Wengji finished his words, Zhao Fu suddenly relaxed.

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He let out a soft chuckle, reached for another teacup on the table, and with a loud bang, hurled it against a nearby pillar.

The blue and white porcelain shattered into countless pieces.

Ji Wengji did not spare the broken teacup a single glance.

The emperor’s voice was firm and resounding, like a thunderclap: “Chong Ming, you truly disappoint me. In your heart, am I such an emperor?”

Prime Minister Ji lifted his gaze and earnestly replied, “In my eyes, Your Majesty is the most enlightened ruler since the founding of the Great Song.”

Zhao Fu said, “Yet I cannot tell—how much sincerity lies in your words?”

Ji Wengji responded, “Absolute sincerity.”

Zhao Fu was momentarily speechless. He sighed. “Then why have you come to the palace today?”

Ji Wengji replied, “I cannot bear to see a tragedy repeat itself.”

Zhao Fu fell into a long silence. “Thirty-two years ago… I recall that Chong Ming was not in Shengjing. Where were you then? Let me think…”

“I was in the northwest, battling the Liao army.”

“Oh, yes, that’s right—you were in Youzhou, with the Grand Preceptor. The Grand Preceptor often praised you before the late emperor, saying you were a rare talent, fit to be both a general and a minister.” Zhao Fu showed a puzzled expression. “You were not in Shengjing, you were neither a supporter of the former crown prince nor of the Songqing Party… so what does this matter have to do with you?”

Ji Wengji suddenly fell silent. Instead, he changed the subject. “I believe I have finally come to understand Your Majesty.”

Zhao Fu raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What is it that you understand?”

“You have never changed. It was I who was pedantic. I once did not understand—if all three princes were to die at Zhaode Gate, then what would become of this Great Song, the empire you fought so hard to seize? But now I do understand. You care for this empire only because it is yours. If it ceases to be yours, then whether it belongs to Zhao Shang, Zhao Jing, or Zhao Ji—or even Zhao Ao or Zhao Qiong—what does it matter to you?”

Zhao Fu’s lips trembled slightly.

Ji Wengji continued, “The Song-Liao treaty was the achievement of Emperor Kaiping. The prosperity of this era is due to Emperor Kaiping’s efforts. You have never shied away from hardship. You built three great roads, toiled endlessly for the people, and—unless gravely ill—you have never missed a morning court session in thirty-two years. Never has the Great Song seen an emperor as diligent as you. You have lived an immensely harsh life, like an ascetic monk, but even worse than one.”

Zhao Fu’s expression became indescribable. He straightened his back in agitation and called out, “Chong Ming.”

Ji Wengji sighed. “Paper money—it is so difficult to implement. Yet despite everything, you have never given up. The Great Song is fortunate to have you, as are its officials and its people. I have served two emperors in my life, but I have only had one true sovereign—and that is you.”

Zhao Fu said gravely, “In court, I have always known that you are the one who understands me best.”

Ji Wengji looked him in the eye and said, “And so you seek to prove that even if you seized the throne through patricide and fratricide, you were not wrong. If Zhao Shang, Zhao Jing, and Zhao Ji repeat the same history—if anyone else were in your place—they would make the same choices and act just as you did.”

Zhao Fu asked, “Was I wrong?”

Ji Wengji answered, “You were not wrong. No need to repeat history—you were never wrong.”

Zhao Fu closed his eyes, holding back the heat welling up in them.

“But neither was the former crown prince wrong. Nor were Zhao Shang, Zhao Jing, or Zhao Ji. Who, then, was truly at fault?” Ji Wengji spoke slowly. “You are an enlightened ruler. And you are also a selfish, solitary monarch. Your Majesty, I can no longer walk this road with you. You have always walked alone. I have now come to understand something else.”

Zhao Fu did not grow angry this time. He smiled faintly at Ji Wengji and asked, “What is it?”

“If this were a year ago, you would never have acted in such a way. You are beginning to doubt yourself. You hesitate; you fear. Is it the Empress Dowager’s death that has made you afraid of the afterlife? Made you worry about descending into hell upon your death?”

Zhao Fu’s smile froze.

He did not need to answer. Ji Wengji could already see everything in his expression. He bowed respectfully and said, “Your Majesty, as the victor, why dwell on meaningless matters and people? You are who you are, and there are countless matters awaiting Your Majesty to dispel illusions and forge new paths.”

Silence engulfed Funing Palace.

After a long time, Zhao Fu finally spoke. “You may go.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“…Wait.”

Ji Wengji stopped and turned back toward the solitary yet brilliant emperor.

Zhao Fu smiled. “Chong Ming, you were mistaken about one thing. Zhao Jing and Zhao Ji may be like Zhao Xuan, but I… I was never like Zhao Shang.”

Ji Wengji’s eyes dilated.

Zhao Fu continued, “That question I asked—you have yet to answer it. Thirty-two years ago, none of this had anything to do with you. Today, I thought of many people, even Wang Quan—I even considered that he might come to the palace. But I never thought that it would be you. Why did you come? Why do it?”

Ji Wengji’s heart was a stormy sea. He gazed solemnly at the emperor before him. For decades, through trials and tribulations, he had believed he understood this man better than anyone. Yet, in the end, he had misjudged his heart.

But could anyone truly comprehend the heart of an emperor?

After contemplating, Ji Wengji finally spoke. “Your Majesty said I was neither of the former crown prince’s faction nor of the Songqing Party.”

Zhao Fu’s expression shifted slightly. He feigned composure. “Was I mistaken?”

Ji Wengji said, “Your Majesty was not wrong. I was merely a second-rank jinshi—how could I have ever joined the Songqing Party, or gained the former crown prince’s favor? But that year, after achieving honors in the imperial examination, at the Qionglin Banquet, I—a poor scholar—became intoxicated and made a fool of myself. My fellow scholars ridiculed me in secret, yet one person helped steady my drunken form and told me, ‘A true talent asks not of origins.’”

Zhao Fu already knew who that person was. Beneath his dragon robe, his fists clenched tightly.

Ji Wengji looked at him deeply and smiled. “Your Majesty, who in this world did not love Zhao Xuan!”

Ji Wengji turned and left.

As he departed, the sound of porcelain shattering rang through Funing Palace, echoing on and on.

When Ji Wengji left the palace, he happened to run into the Minister of Justice, Geng Shaoyun, who had just arrived for an audience. Seeing him, Geng Shaoyun was greatly surprised and respectfully greeted him. Ji Wengji returned the courtesy but said nothing.

Geng Shaoyun waited outside Funing Palace for a long time before Zhao Fu finally summoned him in.

Upon entering, Geng Shaoyun was shocked by the sight of shattered porcelain covering the floor. He remained calm as he walked toward the inner hall and respectfully bowed. Zhao Fu glanced at him weakly, then spoke with deep sorrow, “Wang Qing, my heart is disappointed!”

On the ninth day of the first month, the grand farce of the palace coup finally came to an end.

The treacherous monk Shanting had deceived the emperor and disrupted the court, seizing the opportunity to rebel while the emperor was gravely ill. He was thrown into the imperial prison, awaiting execution. Left Prime Minister Ji Wengji had secretly colluded with the monk, attempting to overthrow the throne. In consideration of his years of service to the nation, he was stripped of his office but allowed to retire in peace.

The Fourth Prince, Zhao Jing, and the Fifth Prince, Zhao Ji, had been misled by traitors, leading to chaos in the capital. Their official positions were revoked, and they were ordered to reflect on their mistakes behind closed doors.

Xu Bi was promoted to Left Prime Minister, Geng Shaoyun to Vice Right Prime Minister, and Right Vice Minister of Personnel Yu Chaosheng to Minister of Justice.

This wave of promotions and demotions left the court in turmoil. But what surprised everyone most was the emperor’s decision to recall Zhao Jing, the Governor of Qinzhou, to the capital and appoint him as Right Vice Minister of Personnel, a prestigious third-rank position.

Zhao Jing had been one of Ji Wengji’s most promising protégés. Yet, while his mentor had been stripped of power, Zhao Jing had finally emerged from hardship, returning to the capital to take office.

On the sixteenth day of the first month, during the first grand morning court assembly of Kaiping Year 32, officials gathered in Zichen Hall. Among them, Tang Shen spotted Zhao Jing, who had traveled thousands of miles from Qinzhou back to the capital.

The emperor’s health still seemed frail. After the chaotic palace coup, he appeared even older, but his gaze was sharper than ever. At this point, who could still believe he was on his deathbed? A dying emperor would not have suddenly awakened in the midst of a coup and seized control with such precision.

Some officials had already pieced together parts of the truth, while others remained in the dark, trembling in fear and reverence.

During the court session, Zhao Fu spoke briefly about the events of the previous month, brushing past them as if they were of little consequence.

Xu Bi, now leading the civil officials, stepped forward with the ministers to formally offer congratulations for the prosperity and stability of Kaiping Year 32.

After the court session ended, Tang Shen finally got a clear look at Zhao Jing.

Four years ago, Zhao Jing had been demoted from a second-rank minister to a lowly fourth-rank governor of Qinzhou due to his failure in overseeing the Revenue And Expenditure Department. Now, he had returned to the capital as a third-rank minister. Yet, Ji Wengji’s faction had fallen from power, and Zhao Jing’s hair had also turned gray. Though only in his forties, he looked like a man well past sixty.

Tang Shen felt like a lone boat drifting upon a vast, turbulent sea.

The next day, just as Tang Shen returned home from court, a steward from the Right Prime Minister’s residence arrived to summon him.

Surprised, Tang Shen asked, “The Right Prime Minister is waiting for me at his residence?”

The steward smiled. “You’ll know once you arrive.”

Puzzled, Tang Shen followed him. But soon, he realized that the carriage was not heading toward the Right Prime Minister’s residence in the east of the city. Instead, it moved southward, leaving the capital entirely.

As the carriage swayed along the road, they eventually arrived at the Ten-Mile Pavilion outside the city. Stepping out, Tang Shen saw Right Prime Minister Wang Quan already waiting, dressed in a plain black robe.

Tang Shen immediately approached and greeted him, “Uncle, what is the matter?”

Wang Quan did not answer immediately. He looked Tang Shen up and down and remarked, “I was too hasty in calling you here. I forgot you’d still be wearing your official robes. Today’s meeting is a private one—I should have prepared a black robe for you as well. Do you know that the Wang family’s sons prefer to wear black?”

Tang Shen hesitated, then replied, “…Yes, I know.”

Just as Wang Quan was about to speak, he noticed a carriage approaching from the direction of the capital. He murmured, “He has arrived.” Striding toward the main road, Tang Shen followed him.

The carriage came to a slow stop. The occupant lifted the curtain, momentarily surprised to see Wang Quan. “Prime Minister Wang?”

Wang Quan bowed slightly. “Prime Minister Ji.”

Ji Wengji stepped down from the carriage and returned the gesture. “A criminal official like me has no right to such a title.” He then glanced at Tang Shen.

Tang Shen immediately saluted him.

Wang Quan chuckled. “If that is so, then why should I, dressed in black, still be called Prime Minister?”

The two men exchanged a look and laughed.

For years, the Ji and Wang factions had been rivals in court. They were not sworn enemies, yet they had always been political adversaries. Who would have thought that now, outside the city at the Ten-Mile Pavilion, Ji Wengji and Wang Quan would be conversing so freely, laughter ringing in the air?

Tang Shen remained uncertain. He did not understand why Wang Quan had brought him here, but he stood quietly to the side, listening without speaking a word.

As the sun began to set, Ji Wengji finally said, “It is getting late; I should take my leave.”

Wang Quan clasped his hands together. “Safe travels.”

Ji Wengji turned to Tang Shen again and suddenly remarked, “This reminds me of something.”

Wang Quan asked, “Oh? What is it?”

Ji Wengji mused, “At the New Year’s banquet in the palace, any of the three princes could have been chosen. Yet, His Majesty specifically picked the Second Prince, Zhao Shang.”

Tang Shen’s heart jolted, but he remained composed, focusing intently as Ji Wengji continued.

“Was it a random choice, selecting an innocent man as a scapegoat? Or… was it because he is the eldest son? The eldest son, who reminded His Majesty of someone—someone who burdens him with guilt, leading him to make that choice?”

Ji Wengji suddenly paused, then chuckled. “Ah, am I rambling again? Brother De Zhan, don’t mind me. Ever since I was misled by that treacherous monk, I often find myself speaking nonsense. Pay it no heed.”

Wang Quan smiled. “Of course not. What did you say just now?”

Tang Shen calmly replied, “Ji daren did not say anything.”

Ji Wengji and Wang Quan both turned to look at him, their gazes filled with approval. Tang Shen kept his eyes lowered, his expression steady.

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Ji Wengji chuckled and pointed at Tang Shen’s official robes. “I had thought Tang daren should be wearing black as well.”

Tang Shen’s eyelid twitched slightly.

Wang Quan burst into laughter. “Every generation must forge its own path. Brother Chong Ming, we shall meet again. Farewell!”

“Farewell!”

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At this moment, the imperial palace of the Great Song was ablaze with lights, and the sounds of battle echoed through the air.

Countless Imperial Guards patrolled cautiously, holding torches and spears, their eyes sharp and alert. Amidst the chaos, a cloaked figure in black slipped unnoticed into the northeastern corner of the palace—Jingxin Hall. This hall, newly built the previous year by the emperor, was dedicated to the worship of Buddhist statues.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Once inside, the figure pulled back his cloak. The Second Prince, Zhao Shang, who had been waiting in the hall for some time, recognized the face and rushed forward anxiously.

Zhao Shang asked, “Master, what is happening? What is going on outside? Why has chaos erupted all of a sudden? Has something happened?”

His forehead was drenched in sweat. Locked away in Jingxin Hall by imperial decree, Zhao Shang had no way of knowing what was transpiring beyond these walls. Earlier that night, he had finished his vegetarian meal and was about to transcribe Buddhist scriptures for the Empress Dowager. He had only written halfway when the sounds of combat reached him from outside. The noise had scared him out of his wits—he feared that Zhao Fu had finally decided to execute him. He had hidden behind a pillar, waiting in terror, yet no one came for him. Only after an hour did Shanting arrive.

The monk’s face was as emotionless as ever, revealing neither joy nor sorrow. He pressed his hands together in a Buddhist gesture and said calmly, “Your Highness, something has indeed happened. His Majesty is gravely ill and has been bedridden for more than three days. Today, a prince has raised troops in rebellion. By now, they are likely already at the palace gates.”

Zhao Shang’s eyes widened in shock. “A coup?!”

Shanting’s voice was distant, as though it came from within a dense fog. “Yes, a coup.”

“How dare he?!” Zhao Shang roared. “Who is it? Zhao Jing or Zhao Ji? They actually dare to commit such an act of treason?”

Shanting simply replied, “This humble monk does not know.”

Before the words had fully settled, the clash of weapons rang out again from the distance. Zhao Shang trembled and stammered, “Then… what should I do?” He had been confined in Jingxin Hall, with no advisors by his side. At this moment, he was utterly panicked, unsure of his next move.

There was no doubt—whether it was Zhao Jing or Zhao Ji leading the coup, if they succeeded, they would never allow him, their elder brother, to live.

A horrifying thought crossed Zhao Shang’s mind: Would they even frame me for the coup and pin the crime on my head?

He clenched his fingers tightly, wishing he could personally kill the treacherous brother who dared to rebel.

Yet, without armor or weapons, how could he possibly eliminate the rebels? He couldn’t even escape the palace. Just as Zhao Shang was on the verge of despair, Shanting spoke.

“His Majesty is gravely ill, and the Imperial Guards in the palace are leaderless. Only Your Highness can command them to fight back.”

“Me?”

Shanting nodded. “Indeed. Your Highness is a prince. Other than you, no one has the authority to command the three thousand Imperial Guards stationed in the palace. Your Highness must not hesitate. You must head to Zhaode Gate immediately and stop the rebels before they breach the palace.”

Zhao Shang’s heart burned with resolve. “Master is right! I cannot sit here and await my doom!”

The grand doors of Jingxin Hall swung open. As Zhao Shang stepped outside, he saw the Imperial Guard commander, Ruan Feng, waiting at the entrance. Zhao Shang turned back to glance at Shanting, his eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you, Master Shanting. As long as I draw breath, those traitors will never set foot inside the palace!”

Ruan Feng knelt on one knee, his face hidden in the darkness. “Your Highness, please give the order.”

Zhao Shang’s gaze was steely. “From where are the rebels attacking?”

Ruan Feng replied, “Zhaode Gate.”

“Good. Then follow me—we will cut down the traitors at Zhaode Gate!”

The night loomed heavy, like a monstrous beast pressing down on everyone’s hearts.

Beyond Zhaode Gate, the Fourth Prince Zhao Jing and the Fifth Prince Zhao Ji led the capital garrison’s troops in a frenzied assault on the gate. Above them, the Imperial Guards rained down fire arrows, desperately trying to hold back the storm of soldiers.

However, when the Great Song’s imperial palace was originally constructed, it was never meant to be a fortress. Shengjing was the empire’s capital—if enemies had already reached the palace, the city was already lost. There was no point in fortifying the palace itself. As a result, the three thousand Imperial Guards stationed at Zhaode Gate were struggling to hold their ground, while the rebel forces gained the upper hand.

Gritting his teeth, Zhao Jing cursed, “That treacherous Zhao Shang! Not only has he colluded with that wicked monk Shanting, but he even turned the Imperial Guards against us! Father is trapped in the palace—who knows how he fares?”

Zhao Ji added, “Tonight, we fight as brothers. Together, we will behead Zhao Shang. What do you say?”

Zhao Jing nodded. “Agreed!”

Zhao Ji raised his hand and ordered, “Charge! Seize Zhaode Gate for this prince!”

The soldiers roared as they surged forward, storming the massive gates.

The defenders atop the walls were weakening. The gate, barely holding, seemed on the verge of collapse.

Zhao Jing and Zhao Ji’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. Both subtly assessed each other. While they were united in their goal of eliminating Zhao Shang, whoever entered the palace first and “saved” the emperor would claim the greatest merit. Neither wished to let the other steal this monumental achievement.

With a thunderous crash, the towering gates groaned and shattered. Just one final strike, and the entrance would be theirs.

Zhao Jing and Zhao Ji held their breath, preparing to charge in—only to see a force approaching from outside the palace.

Both turned their heads, faces lighting up with joy.

“Prime Minister Ji!”

Ji Wengji rode in on horseback, his aged body battered by the journey. Gazing at the wrecked Zhaode Gate, he seemed to glimpse another door—one from long ago. His sharp, ancient eyes peered beyond the ruined gate and saw the dense ranks of archers hidden behind it.

The night was deep, time slipping away like a dream.

Ji Wengji returned to his senses and greeted the princes. “Fourth Prince. Fifth Prince.”

Zhao Jing, furious, exclaimed, “That traitor Zhao Shang dares to attempt a coup! Prime Minister, join me in storming the palace and executing him!”

Zhao Ji quickly added, “Join me, Prime Minister! Help me take Zhao Shang’s head!”

The capital garrison surged forward, their roars shaking the sky.

Yet Zhao Jing and Zhao Ji were unaware—behind the tattered Zhaode Gate, Zhao Shang and his Imperial Guards had already positioned their archers, waiting to unleash a deadly rain of arrows.

Meanwhile, chaos reigned within the palace. Eunuchs and maids fled in panic, while a cloaked figure slipped quietly into Funing Palace.

In the vast, empty hall, only the grand eunuch Ji Fu remained, guarding his master. A single lamp flickered in the sleeping quarters, casting shadows over Ji Fu’s trembling form. He dared not speak.

At the imperial desk, a frail figure held a brush and carefully wrote in large characters—

“Do not ask the heavens.”

Shanting removed his cloak, pressed his hands together, and greeted him. “Your Majesty.”

Zhao Fu did not respond. He carefully completed his calligraphy, then took his imperial seal, pressed it into red ink, and stamped it onto the paper. Admiring his work, he finally looked up.

“Tell me, how does my calligraphy look?”

Shanting glanced at it. “A monk does not speak falsehoods.”

Zhao Fu laughed and turned to Ji Fu. “He means to say it is terrible!”

Ji Fu, tense as ever, stammered, “Your Majesty’s writing is excellent.”

Zhao Fu nodded. “Indeed. I think so too.”

Tossing the brush aside, he stood, stretched, and asked, “Zhao Shang has gone?”

Shanting replied, “He has.”

“And Zhao Jing? Zhao Ji?”

“They are here as well.”

Zhao Fu fell silent. Then, he murmured, “Then someone should be arriving at Funing Palace soon.”

At that moment, Imperial Guard Commander Ruan Feng arrived, kneeling outside.

Zhao Fu turned, his expression unreadable. “Well? Is it Zhao Shang, Zhao Jing, or Zhao Ji?”

Ruan Feng hesitated before replying, “All three princes are in Zichen Hall, awaiting judgment.”

Zhao Fu stiffened.

At that moment, he asked, “Are they all there?”

Ruan Feng replied, “Yes, all of them.”

“How could they all be there?!”

Ruan Feng hesitated. “It… it was the Left Prime Minister who rode alone through the Zhaode Gate first. The Second Prince did not release his arrows, so now… they are all waiting in Zichen Hall for His Majesty.”

Zhao Fu collapsed onto his throne, staring blankly at the four characters on the desk.

“Do not ask the heavens.”

The monk Shanting fingered his prayer beads, his voice drifting like mist. “Karma is the cause, breaking the barrier is the effect. One who indulges in desire is like one holding a torch against the wind—they are bound to burn themselves. Yet, due to illusions and attachments, they cannot attain enlightenment. Benefactor, beneath Avīci, the Thorned Hell—ultimately, you are alone.”

Zhao Fu abruptly lifted his head, his eyes burning with murderous intent as he stared at Shanting.

The round-faced monk, with his benevolent brows and kind eyes, continued his chanting, neither pleased nor sorrowful.

The night echoed with the sound of weapons and war drums. In the Right Prime Minister’s residence, the kitchen had long stopped serving food, yet Tang Shen and the Right Prime Minister remained at the table, sitting awake until dawn.

As the eastern sky brightened and the sun began to rise, a government officer rushed into the estate. “Reporting to daren, the Minister of Justice, Geng daren, entered the palace half an hour ago.”

Wang Quan was surprised. “Geng Shaoyun? Why would he enter the palace? What exactly happened last night?”

The officer had only followed Wang Quan’s orders to gather information from the usual channels; anything he hadn’t learned, he couldn’t report. Wang Quan waved a hand dismissively. “You may leave.”

“Yes, daren.”

Tang Shen turned to him. “Uncle, what on earth happened in the palace?”

Wang Quan sighed. “Oh you, even if you ask, I truly do not know.”

Tang Shen looked a bit embarrassed.

Wang Quan continued, “But Geng Shaoyun entering the palace is unexpected. If he has done so, does that mean there has been a turn of events? But what kind of turn?”

Intrigued, Wang Quan pondered deeply, yet he couldn’t grasp the full picture.

He could not have known that outside Funing Palace, Ji Wengji, dressed in an old, slightly worn official robe, was being led into the hall by Grand Eunuch Ji Fu.

As he stepped inside, the scent of burning sandalwood filled his nostrils, thick and heavy, obscuring clarity. Without lifting his head, the Prime Minister stood quietly in the hall, waiting.

After a long while, a figure emerged from behind the curtains, stopping before Ji Wengji and gazing at him silently.

A sigh drifted through the air, as if from a distant place.

“Oh, Chong Ming…”

The Left Prime Minister, Ji Wengji, courtesy name Chong Ming—which was drawn from the I Ching: “The double brightness aligns with righteousness.”

Ji Wengji slowly raised his head and spoke sincerely, “Your subject, Ji Wengji, pays respects to Your Majesty.”

Zhao Fu spoke gently, “Why have you entered the palace?”

“I am concerned for Your Majesty’s health.”

“I feel quite well.”

“Your Majesty’s well-being brings me great joy.”

The two of them faced each other in silence. No one knew how much time passed. The imperial incense in the hall had burned out, and the air grew cold.

Zhao Fu finally spoke. “Chong Ming, you and I have been ruler and minister for over twenty years. Yet suddenly, I find… I can no longer understand you.”

Ji Wengji lowered his head, his tone steady but respectful. “Your subject has never understood Your Majesty either.”

Bang!

A teacup flew straight at Ji Wengji’s forehead, smashing into him and breaking into shards upon the ground. Blood gushed down his face.

Ji Wengji was old now; the sudden blow nearly knocked him over. He staggered but managed to steady himself.

Zhao Fu let out a sharp, breathless laugh. “You don’t understand me?”

Blood covered Ji Wengji’s face, yet his eyes remained piercingly clear. His voice, despite the injury, was calm as he spoke slowly.

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“Indeed, I do not understand. I do not understand what crime the Second Prince committed to be branded a rebel traitor. I do not understand what the Fourth and Fifth Princes did to make Your Majesty seek their deaths. Even a tiger does not eat its cubs. If all three princes perish, then tell me, Your Majesty—this Great Song, this empire you struggled to wrest from others, whom will you hand it to?”

“Zhao Ao? Zhao Qiong?”

“Have you forgotten? Every other Zhao in the realm has already been slaughtered. The only ones left are the descendants of Prince Jing.”

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Tang Shen, filled with confusion, sat down and obediently picked up his chopsticks to eat.

This was Tang Shen’s first time entering the residence of the Right Prime Minister. The manor was located in the eastern part of the city, sprawling and magnificent. Just looking at the reception hall, the screen wall was adorned with a landscape painting by a renowned artist of the dynasty, while the walls were hung with authentic calligraphy by a master from the previous dynasty. The chairs were made of rosewood, and the table was a sandalwood octagonal table.

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Any one of these items, if taken out, would be worth a thousand taels of silver.

However, Wang Quan had invited Tang Shen to his residence for a meal, and indeed, there were no other guests—just the two of them.

The vast Right Prime Minister’s residence was eerily quiet at this moment. Servants brought dish after dish to the table, presenting a dazzling array of food, but Tang Shen only grew more puzzled and found it hard to eat. He pondered in his heart but worried that Wang Quan might adhere to the rule of not speaking during meals, so he decided to wait until after the meal to voice his confusion.

Who would have thought that the dishes from the kitchen kept coming one after another, seemingly endless?

Tang Shen sensed something was amiss. He put down his chopsticks and said, “This lower official greets Wang xianggong.”

Wang Quan smiled, “Just call me Uncle.”

Tang Shen was momentarily speechless, then said, “Uncle.”

Wang Quan nodded, “Good.”

Tang Shen, “Uncle, did you summon me here today because there’s something you want to discuss?”

Wang Quan feigned surprise, “Why do you say that? Can’t I just want to see you and take advantage of Zi Feng’s absence to bring you here?”

Tang Shen: “…”

Tang Shen, “If Uncle wanted to see me, you could have done so at any time. There was no need to rush. Moreover, Wang.. Wang daren has gone to Youzhou and won’t be back for at least ten days or half a month. Uncle, coming from a prestigious family, values etiquette. As a junior, it should be my duty to pay my respects to you during the New Year. It was my oversight to neglect this. If Uncle wanted to see me, you only needed to say the word, and I would have come. There was no need for such haste today.”

“Haste?”

“Without a greeting card, just bringing someone here in a carriage—isn’t that haste?”

Wang Quan stared intently at Tang Shen, stroking his elegant beard as he smiled, “Today, I finally understand why my nephew is so insist about you.”

Tang Shen’s face flushed, but fortunately, the deep night concealed it.

As the two spoke, the kitchen brought out two more dishes of pastries. The dishes kept coming faster and faster, with each new dish replacing the previous one before it could be fully eaten. Tang Shen, as a fourth-rank official, had followed Wang Zifeng and enjoyed many delicacies over the past five years, but the sum of all those meals couldn’t compare to the feast before him today.

The more dishes that came, the heavier Tang Shen’s heart grew.

He said, “Uncle, what exactly is going on?”

Wang Quan, “What’s going on? Perhaps something, perhaps nothing. If it’s nothing, then so be it. If it’s something… let it be.”

Tang Shen was stunned.

It was already past 11 PM, nearing midnight, and the sky was pitch black. Wang Quan leisurely sipped his tea, while Tang Shen sat silently beside him. As the clock struck midnight, the sound of hurried footsteps suddenly echoed outside the house. Wang Quan’s hand, holding the teacup, tightened, and Tang Shen straightened his back.

However, the footsteps had nothing to do with the Right Prime Minister’s residence. They seemed to pass by and then fade into the distance.

But from then on, the sounds of footsteps and horse hooves never ceased.

The glow of torches lit up half of Shengjing, dyeing the sky a bloody red. The common people had long been awakened by the sounds of soldiers marching, but none dared to open their doors to see what was happening. They all barricaded their homes, fearing intruders. However, these soldiers weren’t targeting civilian homes. They marched north, straight into the imperial palace.

Just after midnight, a messenger rushed into the Right Prime Minister’s residence with urgent news.

“The Second Prince is staging a coup!”

Tang Shen was shocked, but Wang Quan let out a long sigh.

Tang Shen quickly regained his composure and stood up, asking, “Is this true?”

The messenger, “The news came from the palace. How could it not be true? It’s said that the Son of Heaven has been bedridden for a long time and remains unconscious. The Second Prince has colluded with traitors and is taking advantage of the situation to stage a coup. Now, the other two princes have received the news and are rushing to the palace to rescue him. This is all information that Right Prime Minister Wang daren had me investigate, using his connections. How could it not be true?”

Tang Shen slumped back into his chair.

After a long while, the messenger left, and the hall was once again empty except for Tang Shen and Wang Quan.

In Shengjing, the sounds of shouting, horses neighing, and soldiers marching echoed incessantly. The direction of the palace was now engulfed in flames. The Right Prime Minister’s residence was some distance from the palace, so they could only see the red glow in the sky from afar. The surroundings, however, were eerily quiet.

But before long, the steward of the Right Prime Minister’s residence came to report, “The Fourth Prince, Zhao Jing, has sent someone to invite Master to enter the palace and apprehend the rebels.”

Wang Quan replied indifferently, “Have they been sent away?”

The steward, “They have been sent away.”

Wang Quan, “Then there’s nothing more to do.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the kitchen brought out another dish. The porcelain bowl clinked as it was placed on the table, echoing Tang Shen’s current state of mind. His thoughts were a chaotic mess. Since entering the Right Prime Minister’s residence, he had been caught in a maze, unaware of what was happening. Now, he suddenly became clear-headed, as if an invisible hand had parted the clouds, allowing him to glimpse a sliver of the truth.

Tang Shen looked up and said, “Now, has someone also gone to my residence to invite me into the palace?”

At the same time, halfway across Shengjing, at Tanhua Residence, Yao San opened the door. He said to a middle-aged man who looked like an advisor, “My master is not at home. He left earlier.”

The advisor was stunned.

Back at the Right Prime Minister’s residence, Wang Quan’s eyes lit up, “What do you mean by that?”

Tang Shen, “The Second Prince is staging a coup, and the other two princes want to apprehend him. They can’t act rashly, as that would make their actions unjustified. They need to invite a high-ranking official to assist them, and the best candidates would be the first-rank officials, such as you, Uncle. However, while ordinary officials might be persuaded, if you, Uncle, don’t want to go, even the princes can’t force you. So, if you send them away, they have no choice but to leave.”

“Correct.” Wang Quan gestured for him to continue.

“But I’m different. As a Censorate official, I hold a fourth-rank position. No matter how much His Majesty favors me, I’m still only a fourth-rank official. If a prince orders me to do something, how can I refuse? If I join a prince’s faction, it would represent Sir, Senior Brother, and even you, Uncle. That’s why you sent someone to bring me here tonight—to prevent this from happening!”

Wang Quan burst into laughter, just as the sound of clashing weapons echoed outside the walls. He laughed heartily, seemingly unafraid of the chaos outside, and praised, “Zi Feng’s affection for you is justified, as it should be!”

Tang Shen’s fingers tightened, “But there’s one thing I want to know.”

“Speak freely.”

“How did you know that the Second Prince would stage a coup tonight?”

“Why don’t you guess?”

Tang Shen fell silent, deep in thought.

The sounds of fighting near the Right Prime Minister’s residence had ceased, and everything returned to silence.

“Uncle, unlike me, you have been maneuvering in the court for many years, with trusted people everywhere. Perhaps you deduced this from the movements of the Five City Military Commissions tonight, from the troops coming and going at the military camp on the edge of the city, or from the Imperial Guards…” Tang Shen paused, hesitating before asking, “But since you already knew, others must have known as well. His Majesty is gravely ill and unconscious. The only ones who can stop this palace coup are the two princes. The Second Prince is staging a coup, while the Fourth and Fifth Princes are rushing to the palace to rescue His Majesty…”

Tang Shen’s voice trailed off.

Wang Quan looked at the lavish spread of dishes on the table and smiled gently, “Do you sense something amiss?”

“Uncle, you are a pillar of the Great Song. If you had known about this in advance, you would never have allowed it to happen. Besides you, Prime Minister Ji must have known as well, and he would never have stood by and watched. So, the only person who could make you sit back and watch as the two princes clash with the Second Prince…”

Tang Shen suddenly fell silent, saying no more.

Wang Quan set down his teacup and sighed deeply, “A year ago, Zi Feng told me that he couldn’t see through it either, but he trusts that person. As the saying goes, three cobblers equal one Zhuge Liang, but that’s just a joke. In the Great Song court, who can compare to that person?”

Tang Shen, “But why is all this happening?”

“Why? You want to know, I want to know, and Zi Feng wants to know. But aside from that person himself, no one knows!”

In Shengjing, chaos reigned.

Officials wrapped themselves in their robes and got out of bed, trembling in their studies, unsure of what to do.

Left Vice Prime Minister Chen Linghai, upon hearing that the Second Prince was rebelling, immediately changed his expression, “How could this happen?” When the Fifth Prince, Zhao Ji, sent someone to invite him, he hesitated for a moment before sighing deeply, “Tell them I’m ill and cannot receive guests.”

Right Vice Prime Minister Xu Bi was even more interesting.

Earlier that day, Xu Bi had left Shengjing for a leisure trip to a country manor in Northern Zhili. It was the New Year holiday, and no one knew that Xu Bi was not in the capital.

Meanwhile, outside the residence of Left Prime Minister Ji Wengji, envoys from both Zhao Jing and Zhao Ji waited on either side.

The gates of the Left Prime Minister’s residence were tightly shut, and the interior was pitch black and silent. No one answered the knocking of the soldiers, but the soldiers refused to leave, standing guard outside.

In the northwest corner of the Left Prime Minister’s residence, in a simple and secluded courtyard, a small oil lamp flickered, illuminating a modest room.

No one would have guessed that this was Ji Wengji’s study.

The room had only one oil lamp. The Left Prime Minister and his wife sat across from each other at the table, using the dim light—one sewing clothes, the other writing.

Madam Ji finished sewing the sleeve and looked up, seeing the characters her husband had written on the paper. Her throat tightened, and after a moment, she said softly, “It’s so late. Aren’t you going to sleep?”

Ji Wengji, as if waking from a dream, looked up at his wife, “Are you tired, wife?”

It was already past midnight, and both of them were old. How could they not be tired?

But Madam Ji smiled and said nothing.

Ji Wengji lowered his head and looked at the characters he had written. His gaze paused, and he fell silent.

The entire sheet of paper was densely covered with a single character—

“Zhao.”

Ji Wengji leaned back in his chair, staring at the paper filled with the character “Zhao.” He pointed at it and said to his wife, “Wife, what character do you think I’ve written?”

“It looks like the character ‘Zhao.'”

“It is the character ‘Zhao.’ But whose ‘Zhao’ is it? Is it Zhao Shang, Zhao Jing, Zhao Ji… It can’t be Zhao Ao. Perhaps it’s Zhao Fu?”

Madam Ji’s expression changed. Although she was a woman of the inner chambers, she knew that Zhao Fu was the current emperor’s name.

“Husband!”

“Or is it Zhao Xuan?”

Suddenly, Ji Wengji stood up and reached for his robes. Madam Ji hurried after him, “What are you doing?”

Ji Wengji smiled, “Someone is knocking at the door. Didn’t you hear, wife?”

Madam Ji didn’t know what was happening, but she could hear the sounds of slaughter throughout the city that night. Her eyes reddened, and she complained, “But can’t you just not go out?” As she spoke, she helped Ji Wengji put on his robes.

“I can, and I can’t.”

“Ai?”

Ji Wengji laughed heartily, took his wife’s rough hands, and said gently, “These past fifty years have been hard on you, wife. Life in Shengjing hasn’t been easy. I remember we still have some farmland.”

Madam Ji, “Why are you bringing this up now?”

“I just remembered, that’s all.”

Madam Ji personally saw Ji Wengji off. As he was about to open the main gate, she couldn’t help but ask again, “Do you really have to go?”

Ji Wengji looked at his wife seriously, “Yes, I really do.”

“Why?”

Ji Wengji laughed freely, “If it weren’t right before my eyes, it would be one thing. But since it is, how can I let it happen again!”

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

In the next moment, Ji Wengji opened the gate. The envoys from the Fourth Prince, Zhao Jing, and the Fifth Prince, Zhao Ji, had been waiting outside for a long time. When Ji Wengji suddenly appeared, none of them reacted immediately.

Ji Wengji, dressed in a deep red official robe, surveyed the scene with an imposing presence. “Let us go to the palace.”

“Yes!”

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