Beneath the palace walls, the dark mass of cavalry and soldiers stirred into motion, while atop the Yanchi Tower, the forces of the two great battalions stood in tense confrontation, poised for battle.
From the military formation behind the Meridian Gate square came the sharp sound of blades being drawn. Wei Yan turned slightly and saw the flickering torchlight reflecting off a sea of cold steel.
Xie Zheng lifted the corner of his lips slightly, twisting the reins in his hand with a lazy yet overwhelmingly oppressive smile. "Let him speak."
He was but a step away from the truth. Though his smile remained composed, his eyes held nothing but endless coldness.
Another wave of commotion rose beyond the crowd as a carriage sped forth. The curtain was lifted, and Shadow Guards emerged, pushing Wei Xuan and Madam Wei out of the carriage. A shout rang out: "Madam Wei and Wei Xuan are here!"
Above the city wall, Qi Min's smile grew increasingly wild. His pale, almost bluish hand pressed against the cold bricks of the battlement as he stared down at Wei Yan. "How fortunate—your wife and son have arrived. I swear, if your men take even one step forward, their heads will roll!"
Madam Wei and Wei Xuan were tightly bound, their mouths gagged with cloth. Madam Wei's eyes were filled with anguish and guilt as she looked at Wei Yan, desperately shaking her head, unable to utter a word beyond muffled cries.
Wei Xuan, on the other hand, was furious to the point of madness. His veins bulged from straining against the ropes binding him, the friction against his neck having already broken the skin, leaving raw wounds.
When Xie Zheng caught sight of Madam Wei, his cold phoenix eyes narrowed slightly, and the faint smirk on his lips tightened imperceptibly.
Wei Yan's followers all turned to him, awaiting his command. After only a moment's silence, he issued the order once more: "Storm the city."
This time, his trusted aides did not hesitate. Drawing their swords, they roared, "Storm the city—"
Instantly, chaos erupted atop the walls as the forces of the Five Armies Garrison clashed, each fighting for their own master. Below, part of the Three Thousand Battalion cavalry charged at the palace gates, which had been barricaded anew, while the rest remained locked in a standoff with Xie Zheng's men.
From the city wall, Qi Min gestured to the Shadow Guard below. The guard immediately removed the gag from Wei Xuan's mouth. Proud and defiant by nature, Wei Xuan, now freed from restraint, snarled like a rabid hyena, his eyes bloodshot as he roared, "If you've got the guts, kill me now!"
The Shadow Guard did not kill him. Instead, he forced him to his knees and drove a blade into his shoulder from behind, twisting it viciously. Blood instantly soaked through his clothes, gushing out in streams.
Wei Xuan let out a piercing scream that shook the air.
By the time the blade was withdrawn, he could barely remain kneeling, collapsing onto the ground. His face was deathly pale, covered in a sheen of sweat, his filthy hair matted with blood from his own wounds.
When he mustered enough strength to speak, his lips trembled, and all he could manage was: "Kill me..."
Beside him, Madam Wei was restrained by another Shadow Guard, still gagged and unable to make a sound. She struggled to reach her son but was held back, her eyes swollen from weeping, on the verge of fainting.
Xie Zheng watched all this coldly, his grip on his halberd tightening.
From the city wall, Qi Min sneered, "The Prime Minister's heart is truly as hard as iron, unmoved even by the life of his own son."
Then, turning his gaze to Madam Wei, who was nearly collapsing from grief, he added leisurely, "But Madam Wei need not despair. After all, this wouldn't be the first time the Prime Minister has killed his own child."These words undoubtedly stirred up a storm. Not only was Grand Tutor Li beside them horrified, but even Xie Zheng's eyes darkened a few shades.
Wei Yan had another child?
The usually silent Wei Yan suddenly lifted his cold gaze, his voice stern and imposing: "Silence!"
Qi Min's gaze finally returned to Wei Yan, meeting his eyes across the city tower. After seventeen years of vengeance, he felt nothing but exhilaration in his heart. With a light laugh, he said, "What is the Prime Minister afraid of? When you frequented Qinghe Palace to commit adultery with Shu Fei, schemed the Jinzhou Massacre for the sake of the bastard in her belly, and caused the deaths of my father and sixteenth uncle, did you never think of this day?"
Compared to Qi Min's triumphant joy at nearing his revenge, Wei Yan's eyes held nothing but killing intent. He slowly commanded, "Kill everyone present today without exception."
His trusted subordinate fired a signal flare, its long trail of sparks soaring into the sky, only to be shot down by an arrow. The sparks exploded amidst the crowd like a firecracker.
Wei Yan glanced back and saw Xie Zheng seated on horseback, bow in hand, his icy expression laced with bone-deep hatred as he stared at him: "Is this why you killed my parents?"
Qi Min laughed loudly from the city tower: "What does killing his own sister and brother-in-law matter? When the truth came to light, the Late Emperor sought to punish Shu Fei, but Wei Yan set Qinghe Palace ablaze, burning Shu Fei and her unborn child alive to destroy the evidence!"
He emphasized the last four words heavily.
For a moment, the chaotic battlefield at the palace gates seemed to fall silent.
Wei Yan stood in the desolate cold wind, his lips parting to utter only one frigid word: "Kill."
The three forces clashed once more. Seeing that Wei Yan truly seemed indifferent to the lives of Madam Wei and her son, a fierce expression flashed across Qi Min's face. He shouted to the Shadow Guard below the tower: "Since the Prime Minister is so heartless, send Madam Wei and her son to hell first!"
Wei Xuan, upon hearing Qi Min reveal the truth, collapsed in a pool of blood, staring unblinkingly at Wei Yan's distant, indifferent profile. His face tensed, the veins in his eyes gradually reddening as tears rolled down his cheeks, dripping into the blood below.
When the Shadow Guard's blade descended, he didn’t even struggle.
Only Madam Wei continued to shake her head and weep at him, as if trying to speak but gagged.
As the blade swung toward Madam Wei, Xie Zheng swept his halberd, sending the Shadow Guard flying ten feet away.
The strike aimed at Wei Xuan was blocked by a Martial Assassin from Wei Mansion who appeared out of nowhere.
Seven or eight signal flares soared into the night sky—even if arrows were fired to intercept them, it was too late.
The Central Army Battalion and Right Flank Battalion still served the Li family. The Central Army Battalion alone matched the strength of two battalions. Even with the remaining two battalions of the Five Armies Garrison, the Golden Guard, and the Three Thousand Battalion supporting Wei Yan, the forces below the city—Xie Zheng and Tang Peiyi—were tough opponents. The three factions had initially maintained a fragile balance.
But when a deafening explosion erupted from the palace, blasting dozens of Central Army Battalion soldiers into the air, everyone knew the scales had tipped irrevocably in Wei Yan's favor.The Golden Guard spy bribed by Grand Tutor Li had long since had his throat slit. As Grand Tutor Li watched the artillery and military equipment hauled out from the palace by the Golden Guard commander, his hand trembled faintly as he pointed at Wei Yan: "You... you had already moved the Divine Machine Battalion's weapons into the palace?"
Amid the swirling snow, Wei Yan stood on the imperial path of the Meridian Gate, the blazing firelight casting his shadow long. The cold wind howled through his wide sleeves as he said indifferently, "Without dangling the Divine Machine Battalion as bait, how could I lure you all into fighting over it?"
Qi Min's fingers dug into the crenellations of the city wall, his knuckles white with tension. Gritting his teeth, he glared coldly at Wei Yan below, his expression dark and venomous.
Tang Peiyi and the others also looked grim as they turned to Xie Zheng: "Marquis, General Fan has gone to the Western Garden—could she have fallen into Wei Yan's trap?"
Xie Zheng didn't answer, his eyes roiling with fury. Suddenly, with a cold shout, he yanked the reins and charged straight at Wei Yan, halberd in hand. The gust of wind from his galloping warhorse left Tang Peiyi gasping.
Tang Peiyi quickly ordered his subordinate generals to follow and provide cover, then turned to He Xiujun: "Nephew, the Marquis and I will hold off Wei Yan here. You must take men to the Western Garden and assist Changyu!"
He Xiujun had just knocked a mounted officer off his horse, a strand of his neatly tied hair now loose and disheveled. He replied hastily, "If Wei Yan has truly set a trap in the Western Garden, sending more men won't help. The only way to save General Fan is to capture Wei Yan himself!"
Tang Peiyi watched Xie Zheng, who fought like a god of war, forcing Wei Yan's generals into retreat. Slapping his horse's flank, he declared, "Then I'll go assist the Marquis!"
A golden mace suddenly swept in from the side. Tang Peiyi barely dodged by leaning flat against his horse's back, only for another heavy mace to strike toward his abdomen. He hastily raised his spear horizontally to block, but the impact sent numbing tremors from his palms down his entire arms.
"General!"
He Xiujun spotted Tang Peiyi's predicament from nearby. With a flick of his white-tasseled spear, he thrust at the assailant's vitals. The man raised his mace to parry, giving Tang Peiyi the chance to spur his horse away and regroup with He Xiujun.
Spitting on the ground, Tang Peiyi muttered, "Damn it, who is this guy? I've served for decades and never seen anyone like him."
The man deflected He Xiujun's spear with his mace, then struck the shaft with a backhanded blow, sending He Xiujun and his horse stumbling back several steps. He Xiujun flexed his numb fingers before gripping the spear again and said, "He's a tough one."
The man only smirked. "He Jingyuan's son? Your skills are far inferior to your father's."
He Xiujun demanded, "You knew my father? Who are you?"
The man replied coldly, "The dead need not remember my name. And the son of a traitor like He Jingyuan is even less worthy of knowing it."
He Xiujun's jaw clenched. Spurred by the insult, he dug his heels into his horse and charged again, spear leveled. "My father lived for the people! What right does a dog of Wei Yan have to judge him? After I kill you, I'll slaughter Wei Yan to avenge my father!"
The man merely tilted his head slightly to evade the spear. His mace swung upward, striking He Xiujun's arm with a force that made him feel as though his bones were cracking. A pained grunt escaped him as the man's horse rammed into his own, followed by another mace blow to his abdomen.Every organ seemed to rupture from that single blow. He Xiujun spat out a mist of blood as he was sent flying off his horse.
"Nephew—"
Tang Peiyi's eyes nearly split from fury as he roared and charged at the assailant, only to be swiftly struck down from his horse with a swing of the mace.
The man on horseback looked down at Tang Peiyi and He Xiujun with cold mockery. "Revenge? For what? If the Prime Minister hadn't plucked He Jingyuan from the starving refugees back then, he'd still be fighting wild dogs for a bowl of spoiled gruel in the snow. Where would all this glory come from?"
Clutching his agonizing abdomen, He Xiujun glared at him with hatred, struggling to speak. "This... kindness of recognition—my father repaid it with a lifetime of loyalty to Wei Yan. How dare Wei Yan... kill him?"
The man on horseback sneered. "Because if He Jingyuan were still alive, your family wouldn't be receiving promotions and titles today—you'd all be thrown into the imperial prison!"
Done with words, he raised his mace to deliver the fatal blow, but the air was split by the dull clang of heavy weapons colliding.
A halberd engraved with a qiongqi pattern intercepted the golden mace.
The man looked up at the cold-faced youth on horseback who had blocked his weapon with one hand and grinned. "The young Marquis's martial skills have improved over the years. At least you haven't disgraced General Xie's name."
Hearing Wei Yan's men mention Xie Linshan again, Xie Zheng's eyes turned icy, but he spared the man not a single glance, only ordering Tang Peiyi, "Take him away."
Both Tang Peiyi and He Xiujun were injured and knew they were of no use staying, so they supported each other as they retreated to safety.
The man withdrew his mace from Xie Zheng's block, flexed his wrist, and smiled—his eyes sharp with murderous intent. "Wei Sheng may be untalented, but I did serve as the Marquis's martial instructor for a few years. Today, I’ll test your skills."
He was one of the oldest Martial Assassins by Wei Yan's side, long granted the Wei surname.
As he spoke, his golden mace triggered some hidden mechanism, transforming into a nine-section golden whip. The iron chains linking each segment lashed out like a venomous serpent striking at Xie Zheng.
Xie Zheng watched coldly as the whip, coiled like a golden python, approached. He didn’t even raise his halberd to block, only sidestepping at the last moment as it neared his face. In a flash, he seized the whip mid-air.
Wei Sheng yanked hard, unsurprised when Xie Zheng matched his strength. Instead, he smirked.
The next instant, golden hooks and barbs sprouted from the whip's joints, tearing Xie Zheng's hand into a bloody mess.
The nine-section whip was infamous among weapons for its treachery, often used as a hidden weapon. Wei Sheng's modified version was even deadlier.
Unfazed, he said, "The final lesson I’ll teach the Marquis is this: rules only apply to those who follow them. For those who don’t, principles and honor are just jokes."
On the city walls, the Golden Guard's firearms suppressed Grand Tutor Li and Qi Min's forces, quickly turning the tide against them.
Qi Min's Shadow Guard, seeing Xie Zheng also struggling against Wei Yan below, urged, "Your Highness, we must escort you to safety! As long as the green hills remain, there will be no shortage of firewood!"
Years of planning had been ruined in a single day. Rebuilding from this would take who knew how long.
Gritting his teeth, Qi Min forced out a single word through his hatred: "Retreat!"The retreat was more of a desperate flight. Blocking both sides of the palace gate’s narrow passage were forces from the two main battalions of the Five Armies Garrison and the Golden Guard, while outside the palace walls, the cavalry of the Three Thousand Battalion waited.
The guards around Qi Min fell one by one. Even with the skilled Shadow Guards clearing the way, their advance became agonizingly slow.
Grand Tutor Li, left behind, called out to him with a face pale from fear—a man who had kept his emotions in check at court for over a decade now betraying panic. “Your Highness!”
Qi Min only glanced back once before continuing forward with his Shadow Guard.
When a cannonball shot from its barrel, soaring over the long palace gate passage before hurtling straight toward Qi Min and his men, the world around him seemed to erupt in noise—yet he could hear nothing.
The most loyal Shadow Guard shouted something as he shoved Qi Min aside. His back slammed against the cold, unyielding city wall, but he felt no pain. His eardrums nearly burst from the explosion, leaving his ears ringing for what felt like an eternity.
Pulled back to his feet and forced to keep running, Qi Min turned his head and caught a glimpse of the massive crater—charred black, chunks of the wall blasted apart. Several of the Shadow Guards who had shielded him lay dead.
Half of Grand Tutor Li’s face had been torn away by the blast, yet the remaining half still stared in his direction, eyes wide open.
Countless arrows rained down, dense as a net.
There’s no escape…
Qi Min thought despairingly.
Suddenly, memories surfaced—of the Eastern Palace engulfed in flames, his mother pressing his face into a brazier, weeping as she told him, “Min’er, this is the only way you’ll survive…”
Seventeen years ago, he had lived by sacrificing half his face to the fire. What would he have to give up now to survive?
When an arrow pierced his chest, he staggered. Under the horrified gaze of his Shadow Guard, he leaned against the icy palace wall and slowly knelt. Blood trickled from his lips, yet his mind was eerily calm.
He laughed hoarsely. “I prided myself on outmaneuvering everyone, yet in the end, I was still no match for that ruthless old fox of the Wei family.”
The Shadow Guard leader severed the arrow lodged in his back. “As long as we draw breath, we will get you out!”
Qi Min only shook his head faintly. Sitting slumped against the wall, the sounds of battle below finally reached his ears, growing clearer. He tilted his head, peering through the carved stone balustrade—only to see Xie Zheng surrounded by Wei Sheng and over a dozen of the Wei family’s Martial Assassins. A bitter smile touched his lips.
“My father and Xie Linshan died in Jinzhou. Who would’ve thought that seventeen years later, Xie Zheng and I would still meet our end at the hands of that old bastard Wei Yan?”
Wei Sheng’s golden whip concealed a barbed hook—when yanked free, it could rip flesh straight from the bone.
The pain was excruciating—ten fingers linked to the heart—yet Xie Zheng’s face only paled slightly. Not a single groan escaped him. His eyes grew colder, deadlier, his grip on the whip tightening further.
A flicker of surprise finally crossed Wei Sheng’s face. But before he could react, Xie Zheng twisted the whip around his own hand and pulled hard. Caught off guard, Wei Sheng was yanked from his saddle, stumbling toward him.
Yet Wei Sheng was a seasoned fighter. His other weapon—a golden mace—quickly transformed into a whip at the press of a mechanism, lashing straight for Xie Zheng’s neck.Being entangled by his nine-section whip with concealed golden hooks and barbs around the neck was no different from a death sentence.
Xie Zheng had just raised his halberd to block when another Martial Assassin from the Wei family brandished a sword and pressed toward him. Xie Zheng's halberd was still entwined with Wei Sheng's golden whip. With a mighty swing, he forced Wei Sheng to release his grip and used the halberd's blade to intercept the opponent's sword.
With just one hand, he held the other at bay, making it impossible for the opponent to press down even an inch despite using both hands.
All this happened in the blink of an eye. Wei Sheng, having lost his other golden whip, seized the moment. Grabbing the whip Xie Zheng still held, he swung toward him like a pendulum, his hand forming a claw aimed at Xie Zheng's throat.
This was nearly a fatal situation, but no one expected Xie Zheng to suddenly release the whip in his hand. The half-inch-long barbs dug deep into his palm, and as he abruptly let go, the barbs tore through his flesh under Wei Sheng's full weight, leaving his entire palm a bloody mess.
Yet Xie Zheng used that blood-drenched hand to unerringly seize Wei Sheng's throat, lifting him with one arm.
So much flesh had been scraped away that glimpses of blood-stained finger bones were visible beneath the flowing blood. His face showed no sign of pain, and his eyes even held a trace of cold indifference: "Trash made by trash—nothing more than this."
Not far away, Wei Yan's trusted aide watched the scene with trepidation, swallowing hard before turning to him: "Chancellor, what do you think…?"
Wei Yan's icy gaze lingered on Xie Zheng for a long moment before he said, "Loose the arrows."
The aide hesitated, glancing at Wei Yan again, not daring to act immediately.
Wei Yan still did not look away, standing with his hands behind his back, cold and unyielding like a block of stone or steel. He said icily, "After raising him for over a decade, he grew into nothing but a reckless brute. Daring to bring this meager force to attempt a coup—he should have long been prepared to lose his head."
A short arrow shot out, aimed straight at Xie Zheng's back.
With a sharp "clang," the arrow was deflected by another.
The thunder of hooves echoed from the end of the street. At the forefront rode a female general, her robes drenched in blood, bow in one hand and arrow in the other, not even holding the reins. Her eyes were fierce as a tiger's: "Treacherous old villain!"
The heavy snow had stopped at some point, and a faint red glow pierced the hazy horizon.
Dawn was approaching.
Fan Changyu's hair, fluttering in the cold wind, seemed to shimmer with the same radiant brilliance as the morning sun.
Xie Zheng turned to meet her gaze from afar. Both had endured more than one bloody battle, their faces streaked with drying blood. Their fierce expressions softened only when their eyes met.
Wei Yan narrowed his phoenix eyes slightly as he watched Fan Changyu galloping toward them. After a brief silence, he ordered again, "Loose the arrows."
This time, it was not a single arrow but a swarm like a stirred hornet's nest. Fan Changyu clenched her teeth so hard she nearly drew blood.
Too many! She couldn't possibly block them all!
Fortunately, Xie Zheng was now prepared. He threw Wei Sheng aside, spun his halberd to knock away the Martial Assassin, and deflected the dense rain of arrows.
Wei Sheng, catching his breath after being thrown, picked up a long blade from the ground and lunged again at Xie Zheng's back. Fan Changyu's heart pounded with urgency. She was still several yards away from Xie Zheng. Reaching for an arrow from her quiver, she found it empty and could only shout, "Watch out!"
"Thud—"
The sound of a blade piercing flesh, blood gushing out in rivulets.
But it was not Xie Zheng who was stabbed.
Wei Xuan lowered his head to look at the bloodied blade piercing his chest, then raised his gaze to Xie Zheng with a twisted grin, his face wearing the same arrogant and disdainful expression he always had. "I've been... been brothers with you for... for over ten years," he gasped, "but I never... never once saw you as... as a brother. Today... no, this blade... repays the debt... for saving my mother's life."
With that, he spat blood and collapsed to his knees, his eyes fixed on Wei Yan, filled with the resentment and grievance of a son who had been wronged.
Madam Wei, who had just been untied by Wei Yan's men, stared blankly at the scene. This time, she didn’t even cry—she simply fainted on the spot.
Wei Yan’s expression remained as cold and unyielding as ever, not a ripple of emotion in his eyes.
Wei Sheng, realizing that Wei Xuan had died by his own hand, froze for a moment. The crossbowmen in the distance exchanged uneasy glances, arrows still nocked, but with no further orders from Wei Yan, none dared to loose another shot.
Xie Zheng watched silently as Wei Xuan knelt before him. Bracing himself on his halberd, he crouched down and used his mangled hand to close Wei Xuan’s eyes.
Fan Changyu practically tumbled off her horse in her haste. She shot a glance at Xie Zheng, her fury and lingering fear from moments ago still burning hot. Without hesitation, she raised her Horse-Cutting Sword and charged at Wei Sheng, roaring, "Die, you treacherous cur!"
Her monstrous strength allowed her to wield the massive sword—taller than herself—with sweeping, unrestrained strikes. Wei Sheng, still dazed by Wei Xuan’s death and lacking a proper weapon, lost the initiative and was forced into retreat, barely able to defend himself.
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