“Click.”
It sounded like the sound of a flint.
Accompanied by the faint sound of something being shattered.
As for the timing, it was roughly the instant when eyelashes were about to flutter but hadn’t yet.
A large patch of deep red like blood silk danced out, splashing across the ground with a crash, dousing the chrysanthemum potted plants arranged in the character “auspiciousness” in front of the stone table into a coral color. Some thick blood dripped from the tips of green leaves, like little berry-red fruits hidden beneath the foliage.
Yun Buci’s raised hand stopped in midair.
The silver-clad person beside her quickly stepped forward, glanced at the blood on the ground, and said: “With this amount of bleeding, definitely dead.”
He spoke in Great Qian official language with a somewhat stiff intonation.
Then he said in confusion: “Where’s the person?”
…
Someone was pressing down on top of her.
A warm, soft body, faintly emanating the smell of blood, completely covered her. She could feel that body still trying to spread itself out as much as possible to hide her more perfectly underneath.
This feeling was exactly the same as four years ago during the Chongming Palace incident when she was assassinated.
That time she was seriously injured and couldn’t move. Xiao Ying had attacked from the rafters, and someone had suddenly appeared, thrown themselves on top of her, and moved her to a blind spot, avoiding that fatal strike.
Later, when she came to her senses, she couldn’t find her savior.
Later still, she vaguely guessed something, but seeing that the other party seemed completely unaware, she figured that this ability was indeed unknown to them – it was an unconscious display under extremely urgent circumstances that required very harsh conditions to achieve.
So she didn’t bring it up, not wanting to remind the other party of this ability and thereby add unnecessary burden and responsibility.
In the days that followed, she gave that person great trust and tolerance.
Four years of companionship – they were master and servant, ruler and minister, and also friends.
Tie Ci’s hands began to tremble slightly.
She reached out to touch the person on top of her, but felt something fine and sticky. She was held beneath the other person, her ear pressed tightly against their chest, but she couldn’t hear any heartbeat at all.
This made her fingertips ice-cold, but she had to grit her teeth and push the person off her.
What met her eyes was a deathly pale face.
Jian Xi, who had just been vibrant with her skirt dancing like flowers, was now this pale, small bundle. Her face still retained the last traces of shock and determination, her eyes wide open with grief not yet faded from them.
Whether she grieved her own early death or His Majesty’s separation from loved ones was unclear.
Tie Ci’s gaze slowly moved downward.
She saw that from back to abdomen, she had been blown into a blur of flesh and blood. A strand of light green “Spring Water Azure Waves” chrysanthemum petals stuck to that terrible wound, already dyed a thick red.
That blood had also stained half of Tie Ci’s body.
Four years ago, on that winter night, she had also thrown herself onto Tie Ci, displaying at a critical life-and-death moment an innate ability she herself had never noticed – invisibility plus brief teleportation.
When she used invisibility, she could simultaneously envelope the person beneath her.
So at that time, even when Dan Shuang bumped into her, she didn’t see her, and both disappeared from assassin Xiao Ying’s view simultaneously.
Four years later, at the instant the mysterious person fired, Jian Xi had just turned around the corridor carrying a freshly arranged flower vase.
When that red light flashed, the vase shattered and the figure disappeared on the spot.
Perhaps Jian Xi herself didn’t know what she had done in that moment. Perhaps after this time, she would forget again like last time.
If she forgot this time, Tie Ci still wouldn’t remind her, wouldn’t want to actively awaken her ability.
But this time was the last time.
After five years of acquaintance, she had thought she would be a female official who could accompany the monarch for life in the rear palace, holding palace edicts for life and fulfilling auxiliary responsibilities, using herself to prove that in worldly affairs, what men could do, women could do too. There was no need to necessarily support husbands and teach children, no need to necessarily be virtuous and gentle – women could also have many brilliant ways to shine.
She had also thought she would be her lifelong excellent minister and friend companion, like in those legends from another world of the eternal female emperor and her female prime minister, a legendary tale of beauty and iron brush writing about soulmates.
Just like back then, when she came admiring her brilliance, walking through Yueli Academy, lighting candles to copy scrolls in the library building, stroking the smooth feathers of swans on Liuxiang Lake, feeling that this life was without regret.
Yet unexpectedly, at that supreme peak of the human world, the Crown Princess flipped through the name list and asked: “Why is Jian Xi not here?”
A casual remark, yet it opened her new life.
She had said: There are countless ways to repay debts of gratitude – why must one use aspirations and ambitions to redeem them?
In the end, with aspirations just rising and ambitions unfulfilled, the debt of gratitude owed to others was ultimately repaid with her life.
The fate of palace confidants and rear palace ruler and minister ended here.
Tie Ci slowly stood up, gently placing the woman’s gradually cooling body on the ground.
Looking around, this was a side hall.
Footsteps could be heard from the courtyard, with vague shouting. Through the window gauze, moving shadows could be seen, pervading mist, red lights constantly flashing in the mist, and intermittent not-very-loud clicking sounds.
Each time the clicking sounded, someone fell, and gradually the smell of blood reached her nostrils.
Tie Ci’s fingers tightened slightly.
The wind and snow of Chongming night four years ago seemed to howl and pour in again at this moment.
Four years later, blood once again soaked the jade steps of Chongming Palace.
In the courtyard, Master’s voice suddenly rang out.
Clear, unhurried, just much louder than before.
“Ah Ci, I don’t know which hall you’re in, but we know your hall has always had many mechanisms. We’re giving you half a quarter hour – come out with the imperial seal.”
“For every second you delay coming out, we’ll kill one person. When we’re done killing in the palace, we’ll go kill those at the Imperial Academy, kill those at Celu Academy, kill the ministers who come to court. Kill your subjects.”
“Please believe we have this capability. We can even kill everyone in the entire capital in just a few days. Give us three months, and exterminating Great Qian wouldn’t be difficult. In the chemistry laboratory of Great Qian Academy, there’s a room no one can enter, which contains demons that could destroy all of Great Qian. I think you understand we can do this, and definitely don’t want to see that day.”
“If possible, we – or rather, I – have always hoped to coexist peacefully with Great Qian’s people, hoping this country would prosper, so we could live better. Of course, some think it would be better if it could be more advanced, more equal, more free, closer to their lifestyle. This isn’t urgent – if peaceful methods can’t achieve it, then we’ll have to resort to force.”
“Come out. Don’t worry, we won’t take your life. Just write an abdication edict in front of us, saying you’re going to find Murong Yi.”
“We won’t hunt you down. We’ll even escort you to Great Feng. I believe Murong Yi would be very willing to come get you, and in your heart, you must be willing too.”
“You see, giving up a responsibility you might not want to bear at all, to do what you really want to do in your heart – this is clearly a win-win ending. Why fight to mutual destruction?”
While Yun Buci was speaking, the clicking sounds outside continued, though at a much slower frequency.
Tie Ci silently left the window.
She pushed against the side hall wall. The wall surface flipped, and she walked into the main hall.
She lightly touched the dragon head behind the Sumeru seat, and the dragon head fell into her hand.
She strapped the small box to her back.
Then she returned to the side hall, passed through the bead curtain. On the long table behind the curtain hung a painting of a peacock perching by the moon.
Her hand passed over the painting, and the round jade-yellow moon also fell down, becoming a seal in her hand.
She stored these two items separately in different places on her body. She also took down the peacock’s magnificent tail feather.
The blue-purple tail feather had a dark luster with sharp edges. She pinned the peacock tail feather in her hair.
She slapped the wall, revealing a secret room. Inside was a wall, but outside was an exit hidden by flower trees behind the rear hall.
Several pigeons were resting inside, buried in sleep. They were awakened by the opening sound and made soft cooing calls.
She took out several bamboo tubes, took down prepared charcoal and paper strips from the wall, quickly wrote several notes, tied them to the pigeons’ feet, but didn’t release them. Instead, she netted them all and carried the pigeons away together.
They had practiced this many times before, so the pigeons weren’t panicked at all – some even continued sleeping.
Outside, the countdown had begun.
“Ten, nine…”
Tie Ci carried the pigeon net toward the exit, casually taking down a black soft fur cloak from the wall and putting it on.
“Eight, seven…”
Walking a few more steps, passing an official kiln celadon painted jar, she casually fished out a backpack from it and put it on.
“Five, four…”
Tie Ci walked to near the entrance. The people outside vaguely saw her, and Yun Buci breathed a sigh of relief.
Suddenly she stopped, stepped back three paces, out of their line of sight.
Then she jumped.
No movement.
She sighed and said to herself: “Looks like I’ve lost weight again recently…”
Then she took down an iron whip from the wall and tied it to her waist.
Suddenly there was a grinding sound under her feet.
Then the floor tile beneath her feet slowly descended.
“Two, one!”
As the voice fell, the completely motionless door seemed to anger the other party. With a click, then a thud, someone fell.
Then another gunshot, this time blasting open the door of Chongming Palace’s side hall.
It directly blasted a big hole, whistling through the hall, smashing the opposite wall into powder. With a thunderous crash, half the wall collapsed.
The guards who rushed over saw this from afar and looked at each other in dismay.
Today’s duty officer was Liu Chen’s son, who had stayed in the capital after marrying Minister Zhang of the War Department’s daughter last year, and had just been promoted to Left Military Palace Guard Colonel this year.
He and his wife were two of the capital’s famous Crown Princess fans. Seeing something happening at Chongming, they were shocked, but after the first wave of charges failed, he immediately restrained his subordinates while urgently ordering them to report to all parties.
These were all people who had experienced storms and training. Before long, palace guards were mobilized, ministers still in the palace were protected in duty rooms, and various high ministers’ residences received word.
Outside the palace, city gates closed, martial law was declared in the city, the Five Military Commissioners’ Office mobilized, the three great camps of the Capital Guard mobilized, the Blood Cavalry and Scorpion Camp remaining in the capital galloped to the palace, while the newly organized Capital Great Camp outside the city received urgent orders that not a single horse could leave camp without His Majesty’s decree.
After the last incident, the capital had established an efficient communication system. Within half an hour, from inside to outside, the entire capital formed a coordinated response.
Among them, the three great camps of the Capital Guard – Kuiniu and Flying Cavalry Camps were assigned to guard the Imperial Academy, Great Qian Academy, and Celu Academy.
Chongming Palace was shrouded in a pale white mist.
The intruders in the palace all wore masks connected to tubes, while everyone else lay on the ground, their life or death unknown.
Colonel Liu personally covered his mouth and nose with a wet cloth and led people charging into Chongming Palace. But after charging in only three steps, he fell to the ground. After three waves of people collapsed seven in total, they were carried back.
Wan Ji, who was resting in the front court, hurried over, ordered the troops to retreat again, and arranged for crossbow archers to occupy high ground to prepare for shooting.
But before the crossbows were set up, a beam of light suddenly shot out from Chongming Palace, directly hitting an archer who was still several hundred zhang away, immediately piercing through his chest. The two archers beside him were directly blinded by that light.
Wan Ji was shocked, unable to imagine what kind of weapon could have such range. No arrowheads were found at the scene, the deceased’s wound was incredibly smooth, even the bones were penetrated cleanly. It was even harder to imagine what kind of weapon and what terrifying force could cause such wounds.
Moreover, without even needing to hit directly, the exploding light could blind people.
Wan Ji could only order a retreat.
It wasn’t that he feared for his life, but after the emperor’s ascension, orders had been given that when facing overly powerful opponents, once they discovered they couldn’t resist or cause any harm to the enemy, they shouldn’t make meaningless sacrifices.
It wasn’t easy for the country to train a soldier – they weren’t meant for ineffective filling.
This was a lesson learned from the previous confrontation with Duanmu Sang Tang.
The palace guards retreated, surrounding Chongming Palace completely, but they couldn’t see what was happening inside Chongming Palace at all. Wan Ji was extremely anxious and ordered the palace armory opened, preparing to deploy stone-throwing high carts to first get a view of the situation inside before deciding whether to launch a fierce attack.
After all, this was His Majesty’s bedchamber main hall. Without collective Cabinet orders, using heavy equipment would be the great crime of rebellion.
The armory’s location was very hidden, behind the Cold Palace, disguised by several small palace buildings. But before the guard force Wan Ji sent could reach it, they heard a huge whistling sound.
The guards looked up to see a gray-white trail streak across the high sky, like a heavenly plow instantly splitting the firmament, passing over people’s heads in a flash and extending toward the horizon.
The next moment came a thunderous roar.
The layered eaves and side palaces before their eyes suddenly collapsed silently, crumbling and raising clouds of dust, instantly becoming a pile of broken walls and ruins before everyone’s eyes, exposing the armory at the very center.
And the armory had also become unrecognizable in that instant – the roof had been blown off, only a bit of foundation remained of the walls, the large weapons inside were broken and scattered on the ground, and countless small bows, arrows, spears, and swords had turned to powder.
Under everyone’s dumbfounded gaze, those palaces, thickened walls with iron plates, finely crafted heavy weapons… continued to disintegrate, collapse, disappear, like a scroll being rapidly decomposed by time, vanishing before everyone’s eyes into a cloud of dust.
People stood frozen in place, hardly daring to believe their eyes.