Chapter Nine: Regicide

It was not until Feng Yewu’s figure vanished from sight that Lu Jue finally withdrew his gaze. He lay flat on the bed, lost in thought as he stared at the patterns embroidered on the canopy above.

Wasn’t this how it should be? Feng Yewu was a phoenix soaring across the nine heavens, with an unyielding spirit of iron and steel! And what did he amount to in comparison?

Pain and sorrow seemed to have seeped into his very bones, weighing so heavily that Lu Jue could barely breathe.

Feng Yewu stepped out of the side hall, and Eunuch Deming hurried forward, speaking in a low voice, “Your Majesty, the seven princes have arrived.”

Feng Yewu let out a cold snort. “No doubt they’re here to mock me!” She flicked her sleeve with force, as if she could shake off the restless irritation in her heart with that gesture.

Eunuch Deming quickly moved closer. “Your Majesty, please calm yourself. It’s not worth damaging your health over a few rebellious ministers.”

Feng Yewu drew a deep breath, clenching her fists so tightly that her nails pierced her palms. The sharp pain brought her a measure of clarity.

The night was deep, and the palace shrouded in darkness seemed like a monstrous beast lurking in the shadows. Deming, an old man who had spent most of his life navigating the treacherous corridors of the inner court, felt the chill seep into his bones after only a short time outside. Yet he dared not utter a sound.

His seasoned eyes were adept at reading people. Compared to the late emperor, who had been muddled and brutal, the young Feng Yewu—who had no vices—seemed far more frightening to him.

Feng Yewu’s lips curled into a mocking smile, lost in some private thought.

“Just tell them I was startled today and am unable to receive them. Deming, you must be sure to look after the princes well!”

Deming accepted the order and departed. Feng Yewu turned to glance at the side hall of Weiyang Palace, where Lu Jue was resting; a strange glint flickered in her eyes, but in the end, she turned away and left.

Returning to her own chambers, Feng Yewu reviewed memorials under the dim candlelight until a commotion erupted at the door.

The palace maids guarding the entrance tried to block the intruder, but were rudely shoved aside. Feng Yewu paused, her hand stilled.

Who would dare barge into her chambers in the dead of night?

The door was kicked open, and the intruder gripped Han Yue’s throat.

He was tall and powerfully built, dressed in a prince’s robe. Feng Yewu’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

It was Prince Pingyi, Wang Changgen.

Feng Yewu’s expression remained calm and unruffled.

She slowly closed the memorial by her side, set down her teacup, and met Wang Changgen’s gaze.

One, a young emperor; the other, a regional prince wielding immense power. Tension seethed beneath the surface, oppressive and electric.

Feng Yewu parted her red lips. “Prince Pingyi, you invade my chambers at night, and you seize my personal maid by the throat. Is it your intention to assassinate your sovereign and rebel?”

He released his grip. “What does Your Majesty think?”

Han Yue clutched her neck, coughing violently as if to expel her heart and lungs, trembling as she shuffled toward a corner, terrified of drawing Wang Changgen’s attention again.

In the blink of an eye, the imperial guards had surrounded Feng Yewu’s chambers, leaving not even a crack in their formation. Should Wang Changgen make any move that threatened Feng Yewu’s safety, the guards with their crossbows would turn him and his men into a pincushion.

“Hah!”

Seeing Feng Yewu poised to erupt in anger, Wang Changgen felt a chill run down his spine and dropped to one knee. “Your Majesty, you misunderstand. After what happened in the hall today, I feared there might still be assassins lurking, so I came to check. That is all.”

Zhou Yi’an wiped the cold sweat from his brow. “Your Majesty, Prince Pingyi is absolutely loyal to you, without a hint of betrayal. It’s just a misunderstanding, nothing more.”

The other princes quickly echoed Zhou Yi’an’s words.

Each spoke with tears and emotion, as if they were the ones wronged and Feng Yewu was the capricious and unreasonable monarch.

“So, you gentlemen are saying I’ve wrongly accused Prince Pingyi. Does the prince himself have nothing to add?”

Wang Changgen cast a disdainful look at Zhou Yi’an, then made a lazy gesture toward Feng Yewu. “What is there for me to say? Justice lies in the hearts of the people.”

“Such lofty words—justice lies in the hearts of the people.” Feng Yewu retorted with biting sarcasm.

Wang Changgen laughed. “I had my reasons for acting as I did.”

“We were waiting for Your Majesty in the front hall when I saw this maid sneaking toward your chambers with a food box. I suspected she harbored sinister intentions, so I intervened a bit forcefully, all for Your Majesty’s safety. My methods may have been rough, but my motives were pure.”

He casually tore a jade pendant from his waist and tossed it beside Han Yue. “Let this fine warm jade serve as my apology to the little maid.”

Han Yue trembled all over, too frightened to accept the gift.

“Your Majesty, I have been wronged! I only thought you’d been frightened and hadn’t taken supper, so I brought some food from the imperial kitchen. I never meant you harm!”

Feng Yewu waved her hand, fixing Wang Changgen with a cold stare—an expression more terrifying than the wolves of the northern wastes, like a demon from the depths of hell.

Under that gaze, Wang Changgen felt a fleeting moment of terror.

“Is Prince Pingyi trying to pretend this matter never happened?”

Suddenly, Feng Yewu unleashed a chilling aura, murderous intent radiating from her. The imperial guards drew their swords, ready to hack Wang Changgen and his followers to pieces at her command.

Wang Changgen laughed. “Your Majesty is overthinking.”

He flicked his sleeve and turned to leave. Before departing, he glanced back at Feng Yewu and said, “Your Majesty is far superior to your late father.”