Xin Muyi’s face was deathly pale, his entire body trembling. "You... you... no... it’s impossible..."
"It’s impossible!"
Ye Zhao asked calmly, "Why is it impossible?"
Xin Muyi’s expression was dazed, his mouth repeating only one phrase: "Impossible, impossible!"
Ye Zhao looked up at the light filtering down from the top of the tower and let out a slow breath. He paced toward Xin Muyi, enunciating every word: "Let me tell you. The truth is that you were deceived. It was *you* who caused the deaths of tens of thousands of Xize soldiers! You are incompetent, you are cowardly, you are a total failure, and you are a fool beyond measure. Consumed by unquenchable hatred and obsessed with your fixations, you have been toyed with like a puppet, living a wretched existence—neither human nor ghost—for more than half your life!"
Xin Muyi stared up at him blankly. "Shut up! Shut up! Ah!"
Faced with Ye Zhao’s relentless pressure, Xin Muyi could no longer endure it. He let out a broken scream, his body shaking uncontrollably, his forehead drenched in cold sweat.
"Stop talking! I beg you, stop talking! Ah..."
"Ah—!"
For a long time, a deathly silence hung over the Watchtower, save for the sound of a single man kneeling on the ground and weeping bitterly.
What else was there to say?
Everything from the past was a lie. Even more terrifying was the realization that his decades of self-inflicted torment had also been part of someone else's calculations.
On the Jinlin Platform, Ye Zhao casually grabbed a few chess pieces. He raised his hand and let them scatter before Xin Muyi. They tumbled across the floor with crisp, clicking sounds. After a moment, Ye Zhao let out a soft sigh.
"Xin Muyi," he said. "Go back and practice well. You are still far from the mark..."
Having reached this point...
Ye Zhao turned slowly, his hem fluttering in a slight arc. It was time for his exit.
For some reason, he felt that his lines just now were exactly like those of a villain!
Behind him, Xin Muyi spat out a mouthful of blood and collapsed weakly to the ground. He began to laugh and cry at the same time, appearing driven to madness, his lips murmuring a single name: "Tianshu... Tianshu... Hahahaha..."
"My Lord! My Lord!..." The men from Xize crowded around Xin Muyi, calling out in panic.
One of them reacted quickly. "He isn't Tianshu! He isn't Tianshu!"
The man suddenly whipped his head around, staring at the retreating back that had not yet stepped off the stage, and shouted sharply, "You aren't Tianshu at all! Who are you?!"
Ye Zhao’s footsteps paused. He did not answer directly but tilted his head slightly.
The crowd saw him offer a faint smile. "I am indeed not Lord Tianshu."
"I have been a man of no learning for many years and truly do not understand the art of Go. I was fortunate that Lord Xin was magnanimous today, allowing me to win by a stroke of luck." He gave a slight nod and said tonelessly, "I accept your concession."
Though he did not want to reveal his identity, there were already enough outrageous rumors. He didn't want a new rumor about "Tianshu being alive" to sprout after today.
The phrase "dumbstruck" perfectly described everyone present.
*Holy crap!*
That single thought was written clearly on all their faces.
The Xize envoys were also stunned. Seeing Ye Zhao about to descend from the stage, one of them rushed forward. "Stop! You aren't allowed to leave!"
After playing them for fools and driving Xin Muyi to spit blood, he thought he could just walk away? How could it be that easy?!
Fortunately, Wei Feng appeared at the edge of the stage just in time, blocking the path of the man behind Ye Zhao. "Lord Envoy, the match is over. As for the identity of the player, we will investigate it ourselves. There is no need for you to trouble yourselves."
The words were polite, but no one could miss the underlying meaning.
The Xize envoys gritted their teeth. After a few fruitless arguments with Wei Feng, they had no choice but to hurriedly carry the unconscious Xin Muyi to a medical clinic.
Wei Feng then led Ye Zhao upstairs.
Once the door was closed, cutting off the gaze of the crowd in the tower, Ye Zhao ripped off his mask and let out a long, heavy breath, his face full of lingering fear.
"Oh, mother... that scared the life out of me!"
In an instant, all the mystery and overbearing aura vanished completely.
The change was too fast!
The people in the room watched this massive contrast between his "before" and "after" personas, each of them staring in disbelief.
Ye Zhao’s heart was still thumping wildly. He looked left and right, finally spotting the person sitting at the head of the room. He hurriedly bowed. "Ye Zhao greets Your Majesty and all the Lords."
Reminded by Ye Zhao’s greeting, the group finally snapped out of it, though many couldn't help but cough repeatedly to hide their shock.
"At ease. Take a seat." The Emperor of Wei’s expression looked relatively normal as he regained his composure.
"Yes." Ye Zhao sat down as instructed. The performance just now had truly exhausted him; now that he was sitting, his entire body felt limp. Of course, he now looked like a perfectly ordinary, peaceful young man, showing no trace of the imposing presence he had displayed on stage.
The way everyone looked at him was extraordinary, as if they were staring at some bizarre riddle.
Noticing the overt and covert glances from those around him, a question mark slowly formed in Ye Zhao’s mind. "What is it?"
"Cough... Ye Zhao?" Amidst the strange atmosphere, Minister Song called out softly.
There was a hint of inexplicable caution in his voice.
Ye Zhao turned his head and responded, "Uncle Song. Is something the matter?"
"Don't! ...Cough, no, it's—it's nothing!" Minister Song first looked startled, then suddenly paused and changed his tone. He kept glancing at Ye Zhao with a peculiar expression.
The others roughly understood why he was reacting this way.
To be honest, even though they had long guessed Ye Zhao’s identity, they had also been fooled by him just moments ago, truly believing him to be Lord Tianshu.
Minister Song hadn't quite adjusted yet. Hearing "Tianshu" call him "Uncle Song," it would be strange if he *could* remain calm!
But looking at Ye Zhao now, he had only changed his clothes. How could the feeling he projected change so drastically?
Pei Shian asked him tonelessly, "Why did you go up there?"
Ye Zhao didn't suspect any hidden meaning and answered directly, "I couldn't very well let your son take the fall for me, could I? Since I was the one who provoked Xin Muyi, I had to do something. I couldn't just hide in the back and do nothing."
Hearing this, the others paused.
In truth, he could have done nothing, but he chose not to.
Pei Shian sighed softly and said, "And your 'doing something' was to impersonate Tianshu to scare Xin Muyi into surrendering?" He continued, "This move was a desperate gamble, far too risky. Was this your own idea?"
Now that they had relaxed, they could naturally see through Ye Zhao’s tactic.
Seeing Pei Shian’s calm expression but clear disapproval, Ye Zhao felt somewhat guilty. "Yes. Xin Muyi’s Go skills are peerless. Since I couldn't win in a head-on match, I decided to target the player instead. That was my thought process."
He looked up at Pei Shian again. "Didn't you tell me about that war years ago? If there's anyone Xin Muyi fears most, it's likely Lord Tianshu. Impersonating him was the best choice." He thought for a moment and added a piece of evidence to support his reasoning.
Pei Shian lowered his eyelids, his thoughts unknown.
Wei Xiyang frowned. "Then why did you cover your face? You look exactly like Tianshu; there was no need for that extra step."
Ye Zhao paused for only a second before giving a sheepish smile. "I do look like him, but... the chance of being exposed would have increased. My expressions, my demeanor, my every movement would have been under Xin Muyi’s scrutiny. There was no guarantee he wouldn't notice something. It was better to give him hints and let him come to the conclusion himself; that way, he would believe it without a doubt. After all, Xin Muyi is no pushover."
*Oh... so that's why. It makes sense!*
The realization dawned on everyone.
Then they thought: *As expected of Lord Tianshu’s son! Impressive!*
Wei Xiyang’s expression turned strange instantly. It seemed he truly hadn't expected that to be the reason. He let out a cold snort, and the way he looked at Ye Zhao became odd again.
Listening to the conversation, Pei Shian remained silent, merely taking a sip of tea. Suddenly, he spoke: "Were those words also your own invention?"
"What words?" Ye Zhao was startled at first, then realized. "You mean what I said to Xin Muyi at the end?"
He rubbed his nose sheepishly. "Those were just things I made up to disturb his state of mind!"
Pei Shian looked at him for a few seconds before calmly looking away. He said only one thing: "You successfully terrified him."
And terrified quite a few other people as well...
At this moment, the person sitting to Pei Shian’s left spoke up: "Young Master Ye possesses extraordinary courage and the bearing of his father. However, you should avoid such dangerous risks in the future."
*Hmm?*
Ye Zhao looked at the elderly official in the ink-colored robe with confusion. Although he didn't know this man, he could hear the genuine concern in his voice. After a brief delay, he replied obediently, "Thank you for your concern, My Lord. This junior will remember it."
As for the first half of the sentence, Ye Zhao chose to ignore it. He didn't need to ask to know who "his father" referred to; there was no point in wasting his breath on a futile argument.
Because of this interruption, Pei Shian remembered that Ye Zhao likely didn't know the man. He took the initiative to introduce him. "This is Duke Mingde, the father of your friend Yusong. He has been recuperating at home due to illness recently, which is why the two of you haven't met. You may call him Uncle Xie; Mingyuan shouldn't mind."
As he spoke, Xie Mingyuan slowly nodded. It was clear the two were on good terms.
Furthermore, Ye Zhao deduced another point—Duke Mingde, Xie Mingyuan, must have also had a friendship with Young Master Tianshu.
The man, over fifty years old, had a peaceful face and a refined, steady aura. He wore a mutton-fat white jade pendant at his waist and a black cloak over his shoulders. Every piece of his attire was exquisite, carrying the elegant air of a great noble family. However, he felt different from Xie Yusong. One was gentle and warm, while the other...
One could only say he gave off a sense of profound stability, appearing somewhat taciturn and disinclined to speak much with others.
Ye Zhao smoothly called him "Uncle Xie" and then took his leave.
After Ye Zhao removed his outer robe and left the room surreptitiously, Xie Mingyuan suddenly let out a sigh. "They are so alike. So alike that I find it hard to believe they are father and son."
He lowered his eyes to hide his thoughts, his face remaining as calm as ever.
Pei Shian glanced at him, then looked away, picking up his cup to sip his tea without saying a word.
The remark was confusing. Minister Song picked up the thread and asked, "Since they are so alike, why say they aren't father and son?"
If not father and son, what else could they be?
Xie Mingyuan looked up, his gaze sweeping over the people present. "Father and son are two people. But what is even more similar than a father and son? Is it not... the same person?"
The meaning was clear. The others caught their breath.
He turned to look at Pei Shian. "Shian, what do you say?"
Pei Shian set down his cup. After a pause, he uttered an ambiguous reply: "It is hard to say."
What was hard to say?
Regardless of what he was thinking, it was clear from his words that he did not explicitly deny Xie Mingyuan’s suggestion; in fact, he seemed to share the sentiment.
***
Meanwhile, as Ye Zhao was heading down the stairs, he ran straight into Pei Yunting and Xie Yusong.
The moment their eyes met, Ye Zhao hurriedly lowered his head, covered his mouth, and began to cough incessantly, pretending to be a severely ill patient to hide his face completely.
Unfortunately, as they crossed paths...
"Ye Zhao."
The volume was entirely unsuppressed. Fortunately, there was no one else around, so Ye Zhao’s tension lasted only a moment before he relaxed.
"Cough... Young Master, you have the wrong person."
Having said that, he hurried downstairs.
Watching his back as he fled in a panic, Xie Yusong smiled. "Yunting, it seems he doesn't want your thanks."
Pei Yunting said nothing and turned to go upstairs.
To be honest, Ye Zhao’s performance today had exceeded many people's expectations.
The rumors of him being Young Master Tianshu’s son had circulated for so long that after everything they had been through, Pei Yunting had long since accepted it as fact.
But no one could have imagined that he could play the part of Young Master Tianshu so convincingly—and that it wasn't even due to his face.
