Chapter Twenty-Nine: Secrets

“What a remarkable Feng Yewu—her methods have grown so decisive.” Even King Pingyi could not help but mutter his admiration in a deep voice.

“My lord, while I was in hiding, I managed to gather some information. I heard that at this morning’s court, Feng Yewu executed the current Minister of Revenue right then and there,” Zhao Xiyan reported cautiously, revealing only what she knew. Now, King Pingyi was the only one who could protect her.

They had always been under the king’s control. The officials on those lists were all people that Penglai Pavilion kept under surveillance at his behest, to monitor the tides of the court. That was why Lu Jue had found nothing about King Pingyi from those people. The king’s orders had always been direct: gather intelligence and carry out assassinations, commands delivered straight to Zhao Xiyan herself. As for her subordinates, they had never once laid eyes on the king. In the past, the musicians’ hall saw a constant stream of officials, wealthy merchants, and nobles, all assuming the visitors were there for pleasure. None ever suspected any were sent by the king.

It was precisely because of such caution that the king had narrowly escaped disaster this time.

“I understand. The Emperor will host a banquet at the palace tonight. I fear that meal will be anything but peaceful,” King Pingyi remarked coldly, a shadow of worry gathering between his brows.

“My lord, do you mean Feng Yewu will make her move tonight?” Zhao Xiyan’s expression changed. The king was her only pillar of support—if Feng Yewu truly sought to strike at him, she too would be dragged down.

The recent military crackdown had already wounded Penglai Pavilion deeply. Many core members had fallen, but those captured were her most loyal confidants. Zhao Xiyan was confident none would betray her.

“Hmph. Rest assured. We may not know exactly how much she has uncovered about us, but one thing I am certain of—she has yet to grasp my lifeblood, or she would not trouble herself with such grand displays as banquets,” King Pingyi reassured her. After all, as a regional prince, unless Feng Yewu had irrefutable proof, bringing him down would not be so simple. Besides, she had already revealed one of her trump cards. Though the king had relinquished some power in exchange, he had also forced her hand.

In so short a time, there would surely be others with ambitions besides himself. Even if Feng Yewu had grown ruthless and decisive, dealing with so many at once would not be easy.

“Enough. Your wounds are not light—focus on your recovery. The coming days will see all of the capital thrown into chaos.”

King Pingyi glanced at the still uneasy Zhao Xiyan, offered a few final words, then rose and left the study.

“Oh, and during your convalescence, find a way to notify the other Penglai Pavilion members. Tell them to conserve their strength—what lies ahead will only grow more perilous.”

“Yes, my lord.” With that, Zhao Xiyan melted once more into the shadows of the study.

King Pingyi straightened his attire and exited the room. As dusk approached, people from all walks of life began to gather at the city’s grand restaurants and inns. News of the day’s events within the palace was the talk of the city.

The palace itself was ablaze with lanterns, voices filling the night. Officials had arrived early to the banquet, which was set outside the main hall—a blessing, for the season was mild and the night air comfortable. From distant pavilions, the petals of peach blossoms drifted down. Lanterns and streamers adorned every corner. Officials found their seats, exchanging polite greetings.

For Feng Yewu and the princes, this gathering was a subtle contest of wits, but for the officials, it was a rare chance to forge connections.

Desserts were served, and the officials lined up neatly by their places. The regional princes arrived in succession.

“His Majesty arrives!” Grand Chamberlain Mingde’s resonant voice echoed through the palace, nearly reaching the heavens.

All officials and princes turned toward Feng Yewu’s approach, kneeling in unison, foreheads pressed low as they chanted, “Long live the Emperor! Ten thousand years!”

Feng Yewu was resplendent—her golden robe adorned with coiled dragons and soaring phoenixes, an unprecedented design for a night of such grandeur. After all, she was the first in history to proclaim herself Emperor.

“My loyal subjects, rise,” she called, head held high, surveying her ministers and the assembled princes. With a faint smile and a wave of her hand, she dismissed the formalities.

The ministers straightened at her command.

Only after Feng Yewu was seated did the audience take their places.

“Today, I hear that several princes have returned to the capital—no doubt concerned that I alone cannot command allegiance.” Feng Yewu raised her cup slowly, eyes sweeping over the princes on either side, inviting them to join her.

The princes responded with practiced, hollow smiles, lifting their cups in return.

“Such concern—I drink first to you all.” With that, Feng Yewu covered her face and drained her cup in a single motion.

Her comment about commanding allegiance left the princes momentarily speechless. They could only join her in the toast. Feng Yewu’s single remark had elevated everyone’s position—any protest would seem petty by comparison. Besides, what better excuse could there be? They did worry she could not command the realm, but they worried even more that she truly could.

Each prince had planned to return early while her grip on power was still tenuous, to prepare their own contingencies. But Feng Yewu’s audacious actions in court had upended all their schemes. That was why they rushed back in haste, hoping to probe her intentions. Once the situation was clear, they intended to leave quickly.

But no sooner had they returned than Chamberlain Mingde summoned them to the evening’s banquet. Feng Yewu’s imperial invitation brooked no refusal.

And now, beholding her—so composed, so omniscient—they realized too late that they had walked right into her snare. This time, they had come back to the capital at the wrong moment.

Feng Yewu’s true aim was to keep them all within the capital walls. Though the princes understood this, there was nothing for it but to swallow their bitter smiles along with the wine.