The Emperor's bedchamber was brightly lit, with imperial guards standing so densely that not even a moth could slip through.
Yet when one man approached, the impenetrable defenses silently parted before him, granting him unimpeded passage.
As he stepped into the main hall, the attending eunuchs bowed and greeted in unison: "Grand Tutor."
Deng Yi passed them and approached the bedside.
The Emperor lay reclined with closed eyes, seemingly asleep.
"Your Majesty," Deng Yi knelt and said softly, "The Crown Prince of Zhongshan requests entry to guard Your Majesty."
The Emperor with closed eyes suddenly chuckled.
"So he managed to catch up after all," he said, then added with a cold laugh, "It seems he poured quite some oil on tonight's fire."
Deng Yi replied, "Long ago, I received money from Prince Zhongshan—a great deal of money."
The Emperor opened his eyes and looked at him with some surprise, then laughed again: "My brother, with one leg broken, actually jumps higher and more vigorously now."
He then sighed with melancholy.
"Back then, our Grand Empress Dowager shouldn't have broken his leg. A broken leg only made his ambitions grow."
"After all, she had a woman's heart—not knowing that to truly destroy a person, you must break their spirit, not their limbs."
"Pity I was too young then. Had it been a few years later, I would have had countless methods to mold him into a good younger brother."
But there was no chance now. The Emperor gazed around the chamber—brightly lit, yet everything appeared dim and blurred to him.
"What does he want you to do?" the Emperor asked.
Deng Yi said, "He wants me to open the palace gates for him."
The Emperor studied the man before him. Though he had entrusted him with the nation's heavy responsibilities, Deng Yi remained a stranger—he couldn't even recall what he looked like.
He had employed Deng Yi only because Qi Gonggong had pushed him forward—a man daring enough to challenge the Crown Prince's faction, clearly ambitious.
In times of crisis, such ambitious men were most suitable to be used.
Was even Deng Yi's ambition orchestrated by someone else?
"What will you do?" the Emperor asked Deng Yi, enunciating each word slowly.
Deng Yi remained kneeling with straight posture, his gaze unwavering and decisive: "I shall honor my promise and open the gates for him."
The Emperor smiled faintly, as if this weren't particularly frightening: "Then open them. Since he's long harbored this intention, you're not his only tool. If you don't open them, others will."
Deng Yi nodded: "That is what I thought as well. The situation outside is already chaotic. If Prince Zhongshan takes action now, it would bode ill for Your Majesty. Moreover, Your Majesty now has no other choice—the Crown Prince is dead, and as for the Third Prince—"
He looked directly at the Emperor.
"Could Your Majesty tolerate allowing a prince who murdered his own brother to inherit the throne?"
The Emperor burst into laughter, but his laughter quickly turned into violent coughing, forcing him to cover his mouth with his sleeve.
Was Deng Yi acting as Prince Zhongshan's lobbyist!
The eunuchs standing on both sides looked on in disbelief—was this coercion against the Emperor?
"Your Majesty—" two eunuchs rushed forward with tear-filled eyes.
Two others prepared to attack Deng Yi.
Unhurried and unperturbed, Deng Yi continued: "However, I have set one condition for the Crown Prince of Zhongshan."
The Emperor watched him while covering his mouth with his sleeve, stifling muffled coughs.
Deng Yi smiled.
"I shall give the Crown Prince of Zhongshan an imperial decree," he said. "In his name, he must execute Prince Zhongshan. Then he may enter the palace gates and remain by Your Majesty's side."
The Emperor stared blankly for a moment, then erupted into loud laughter, coughing and laughing simultaneously."Good, good," he shouted. "What a Deng Yi, what a Grand Tutor—truly worthy of my regard."
Whether Deng Yi had first caught his eye or been pushed before him by Prince Zhongshan no longer mattered.
This Deng Yi belonged to no one but himself.
He gazed at Deng Yi, his eyes filled with admiration and envy.
"You are exactly the kind of person I described—one who can destroy a man by breaking his heart."
So, Prince Zhongshan, you want your son to become Emperor? Very well—you may die first, and by your own son’s decree.
How does it feel, my son, to ascend the throne by stepping over your own father’s corpse? Are you pleased or not?
The eunuchs bowed their heads and silently withdrew with reverence.
Deng Yi sat rigidly, expressionless, but the next moment his composure shifted as the Emperor moved his sleeve aside, revealing splotches of bloodstains.
"Your Majesty!" Deng Yi rose to his feet.
The Emperor paid no mind. He spread his sleeve open and leaned back against the dragon-carved bed, allowing blood to drip from the corner of his mouth onto his robes.
"Let me answer you," he said. "I can tolerate a son who murders his brother, but I cannot tolerate one who would murder his father. That vile Imperial Concubine—she has been poisoning me."
No wonder those pastries tasted so different from what the imperial chefs prepared—accumulating little by little over the years.
Deng Yi stepped forward. "Your Majesty, summon the imperial physicians at once—"
The Emperor laughed, wiping his mouth with his hand and smearing the blood away. "It’s no use. I am going to die, but—"
His expression held despair and sorrow, but even more so, a frenzied excitement.
"With Grand Tutor Deng here, my dear nephew will surely become a fine Emperor."
"Even in death, the one who takes this throne shall live a life of torment."
"I shall die with peace in my heart."
He broke into loud laughter, coughing between guffaws, spraying more blood around him.
The eunuchs throughout the chamber knelt and began to weep softly.
Deng Yi, spattered with blood on his face and robes, did not move to support the Emperor. Instead, he knelt once more. "This subject will not fail Your Majesty’s profound expectations."
…
…
Even throwing the imperial edict to the ground did not quell his rage. Xiao Xun lifted his foot to kick it, then snatched it up again, ready to cast it into the fire.
In all his life, he had never lost his composure like this. Tie Ying was so startled he did not know what to do, but Ning Kun threw himself forward and snatched the edict, clutching it to his chest.
"Your Highness," Ning Kun cried, "calm yourself!"
Xiao Xun halted, his gaze icy as he stared at Ning Kun. "Calm? Why should I be calm? So I can deliver this thing to my father?"
Ning Kun, having watched the Heir Apparent grow up, knew better than anyone how deep the bond was between father and son.
This was the first time he had ever seen Xiao Xun like this—the young Heir Apparent had shed his usual calm, his face now a mask of fury, like a wild beast driven to madness.
"Heir Apparent," Ning Kun said, his voice trembling as he dropped to his knees with a thud. "Right now, it shouldn’t be about what I think, or what you think—it should be about what the Prince thinks."
Xiao Xun’s eyes reddened, and he aimed a fierce kick at Ning Kun, snarling, "How dare you say that! How dare you even think it! You shouldn’t even entertain such a thought!"
Tie Ying stood to the side, his mind reeling, uncertain whether he should join the Heir Apparent in kicking Ning Kun.
This Ning Kun—was he actually urging the Heir Apparent to send his own father to his death?!
Ning Kun did not dodge or evade, enduring the kick as he struggled to wrap his arms around Xiao Xun’s leg. "Heir Apparent, think! For you to become Crown Prince and ascend the throne—that is the Prince’s greatest hope!"Xiao Xun pointed outside: "What is there to think about? He has no choice left. The Crown Prince is dead, the Third Prince is a madman, and the imperial grandson is doomed. He only has me—he must choose me!"
"But the Third Prince isn't dead yet!" Ning Kun shouted. "His Majesty is also a madman! He's insane enough to enjoy watching his sons fight each other—he could just as easily go mad and let the Third Prince remain Crown Prince. And His Majesty still lives! This time, the prince's plans have been exposed. We have no choice left—it's either fight for survival or accept death."
Xiao Xun kicked Ning Kun away: "My father is no longer the weak child he once was. If he wants to kill us now, it won't be so easy."
Ning Kun fell to the ground but didn't rush to cling to Xiao Xun again. Instead, he anxiously pleaded: "The prince has schemed for so many years—not to bear the infamy of a treasonous rebel! Heir Apparent—"
He knelt down, raising the imperial edict in his hands.
"Ning Kun isn't asking the Heir Apparent to kill his father—only begging you not to make decisions on his behalf."
"A matter this grave must be known to the prince."
"A matter this grave, Heir Apparent—you cannot decide alone!"
After all this talk, it still came down to urging him to deliver this damned edict to his father.
Xiao Xun's face turned grim, his entire body trembling.
What would Father think upon receiving this edict? What would he do?
He didn't dare—couldn't bear—to imagine.
What he should do now is take this edict and throw it into the fire, let it vanish from this world.
But—
He stood frozen, staring at the edict Ning Kun held up. Throughout his life, every step he took and every action he made had never been his own decision—all were arranged by his father.
This time, should he decide for himself?
What if... Father had a better solution?
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