In the early morning, a fragrant aroma wafted through the halls of Han Ning Palace.
Chu Li stood to the side, observing Xiao Yuan’s dark expression, and tentatively asked, "Your Highness, is today’s breakfast not to your liking?"
Xiao Yuan shot him a sharp glance. "Where is she?"
"The Empress rose early this morning. First, she went to Xuyang Palace to see the young prince, and then she went to Yangju Hall, likely to serve the Emperor his medicine." No sooner had he finished speaking than Xiao Yuan’s expression darkened even further.
Chu Li instinctively took two steps back, realizing that things had not gone well last night. He recalled the Empress’s sobs from the night before and concluded that the prince must have resorted to threats, possibly even using the young prince as leverage.
Chu Li sighed internally. Back in Nanchuan, the prince had often said that women should be treated with care and that only incompetent men resorted to force. But now, faced with a peerless beauty, all those principles had been tossed aside. The prince, who usually disregarded ethics and propriety, was now so intent on competing with the Emperor over a woman, even as tensions burned outside the city.
"What are you standing there for? Get over here and report on the military situation," Xiao Yuan ordered, without even looking up, already aware of what Chu Li was thinking. "What’s happening outside the city?"
Chu Li’s expression grew serious as he approached to deliver his report. "Your Highness, troops have been steadily gathering outside the city. Our scouts report that Duke Lu’s forces alone number two hundred thousand. Duke Lu was originally neutral, but lately, he’s been in frequent contact with Cao Ruiji, who commands the Lu’an Army."
"Cao Fatty is a supporter of Prince Yun. He didn’t dare join the coup, but now that Prince Yun is dead, he’s trying to make a move. He’s likely eyeing the throne for Prince Yun’s son," Xiao Yuan sneered.
Chu Li nodded. "So, he’s trying to ally with Duke Lu to support Prince Yun’s son? That’s troubling. The Lu’an Army is far away, but if they join forces with Duke Lu’s troops, they’ll have five hundred thousand soldiers—almost half again as many as our Nanchuan forces."
Xiao Yuan smiled. "Are you afraid?"
Without hesitation, Chu Li shook his head. "Not at all. We’ve fought tougher battles. Besides, Duke Lu is over fifty—who knows how many swings of the sword he has left in him? But the real problem is… if Duke Lu, Cao Ruiji, and the old ministers who control the granaries, armories, and fire defenses all side against us, the palace could run out of supplies before they even breach the gates. They could simply starve us out."
Xiao Yuan stood up. "How many Imperial Guards are left?"
"Commander Meng says there are still eight thousand capable of fighting. Should I call him in to discuss strategy?" Chu Li followed Xiao Yuan to the main hall of Han Ning Palace, stopping under a tree weighed down with snow.
Xiao Yuan gazed at the thick layer of snow on the branches, which occasionally fell in shimmering flakes when the wind blew, making the palace seem even more peaceful and serene.
"No need for discussion. Have Meng Chuang prepare the defenses."
Chu Li was taken aback. "Your Highness intends to…"
Xiao Yuan’s voice was calm. "Tell him that the Imperial Guards are not to be used in the battle outside the city. Even if the sky falls, the palace gates are not to be opened. But if he fails to defend the palace with his eight thousand men, he shouldn’t be surprised if I slaughter his entire family."
Chu Li understood his intent and, after a moment of silent contemplation, nodded in agreement. Their master, their prince, was the most decisive and fearless man in the world.
Meanwhile, inside Yangju Hall, Pei Qing had just finished serving the Emperor his medicine and stood by, hesitating to speak.
Although Xiao Jing’s face was pale, he tried not to show any sign of weakness, smiling gently as always. "Do you have something to say?"
Pei Qing asked, "Brother-in-law, is there not enough charcoal in the hall? Why have you been wearing two inner robes these past two days?" The collar of the outer robe was slightly higher than usual; she had never seen him dressed like this before.
With the Nanchuan soldiers now guarding the palace, they were unlikely to know the proper way to serve. The elderly eunuch who had served the Emperor for years would not be summoned unless it was a matter of great importance. Pei Qing was aware of this.
Xiao Jing casually adjusted his inner robe and replied, "It’s nothing," but Pei Qing found this behavior odd. Seeing that she was still concerned and had no intention of leaving, Xiao Jing smiled helplessly. "It’s just a bit of redness and itching on my neck. I’ve already applied some ointment, so there’s no need to worry."
"But how did it suddenly become red and itchy?" Pei Qing asked anxiously, glancing at the empty medicine bowl on the small table. "Could it be something wrong with the medicine? That can’t be right—I watched it being prepared myself. I should check again."
She was about to get up when Xiao Jing immediately stopped her. "Pei Qing, there’s no need."
"Why—" She was about to argue when she noticed the red marks visible through his slightly open collar. She froze. "These… these are knife wounds?"
Xiao Jing said nothing. He knew full well that no amount of scratching could cause such cuts. He calmly adjusted his collar. "The rebels were bold; there’s nothing they wouldn’t dare to do."
Pei Qing lowered her gaze. "Prince Yu, Prince Yun, and the general who joined the coup were all bound and brought to the Emperor’s chamber. How could they have hurt you?"
She knew who was responsible. After all, it was she who had invited Xiao Yuan into the palace. But she hadn’t expected the King of Nanchuan to be as ruthless as the rumors claimed. She couldn’t understand why Xiao Yuan would harm Xiao Jing without killing him.
Pei Qing quietly applied fresh ointment to Xiao Jing’s wounds, repeatedly murmuring apologies, to which Xiao Jing responded with a helpless smile, gently patting her head.
It was almost noon by the time Pei Qing left Yangju Hall. As she returned to Han Ning Palace, she heard Zhi Lan’s desperate cries from within: "Please, Your Highness, have mercy! Please, spare him!"
Pei Qing’s heart sank, and she hurried inside.
In the snowy courtyard, Xiao Ji'an was sitting on the ground, his small body trembling. Standing before him was the towering figure of Xiao Yuan, holding a sharp dagger in his hand.
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