In the dead of night, Wei Xiyang had yet to retire. He paced back and forth alone in the main hall, his expression fierce and intimidating. From time to time, he glanced toward the door as if waiting for someone.
After a while, a young man dressed as a junior officer ran in quickly to report. "Reporting to the Old General, the Duke of Anguo has still not been found."
"Blast it all! Where did that bookworm run off to?!"
This was the last search party sent out today to track Pei Shian’s whereabouts. Like every report over the past few days, it yielded nothing.
Wei Xiyang couldn't help but drop onto a stool, but he sprang back up barely two seconds later. "Have you searched the entirety of the Capital?!"
The junior officer couldn't help but tremble, his words tumbling out rapidly. "Yes, we have searched everywhere, but there is no sign of the Duke of Anguo."
"Fine! Dismissed!" Wei Xiyang waved his hand irritably, and the officer beat a hasty retreat.
Most of the inhabitants of the Duke of Zhen’s manor were already asleep. Only a few candles were lit in the hall, leaving the surroundings shrouded in dim light.
"...Where on earth did you go?" Wei Xiyang muttered, utterly perplexed.
The surroundings were so quiet that only his own voice could be heard.
But soon, a sudden clamor of footsteps erupted outside the door.
Wei Xiyang’s expression instantly turned solemn. Having spent many years on the battlefield, he naturally recognized the sound of infantry on the move.
Sure enough, a moment later, a troop of soldiers carrying torches burst through the gates.
The members of the Wei household were herded into one area. Wei Xiyang stood at the front; the family members behind him neither cried nor made a scene.
Wei Xiyang looked at the man leading the troop, his face grim. "I want to enter the palace."
He spoke with certainty, not as a negotiation or a request.
Having said that, he suddenly snatched a blade from a nearby soldier and slowly held it against his own throat.
The commander, who had been ordered by the Crown Prince to confine the Duke of Zhen to his manor, widened his eyes in shock.
***
Meanwhile, within the Imperial Palace of Wei, two armies were clashing. It was a bloodbath; corpses littered the ground.
Prince Rong, who had thought victory was within his grasp, was now in a wretched state. Clad in black armor, he was drenched in blood—some of it his enemies', some of it his own. He had lost one hand and could only use his remaining hand to prop himself up with his saber, panting heavily. The blood-stained stump of his sleeve hung hollowly at his side.
"Heh... I didn't expect... to be outmaneuvered by you after all." Blood flowed down Prince Rong's face. He looked up, glaring at the man standing in the center of the stone steps, his eyes still filled with defiance and ferocity.
Upon receiving news that the Crown Prince was staging a coup, he had immediately led his troops into the palace. He didn't care whether the news was true or false.
If it were true, all the better; he would have a perfect reason to eliminate the Crown Prince in one fell swoop and become the legitimate successor to the Eastern Palace. If it were false, it didn't matter—he would simply go all the way and seize the highest seat for himself. By then, let alone the Crown Prince, the entire Great Wei would be his!
But... he had miscalculated.
Everything had happened too fast. He hadn't even had time to retreat with his men.
Wei Ling looked at the man standing beside the Crown Prince, his gaze momentarily complex, filled with a mocking sneer. "The Duke of Mingde has quite the methods! I only wonder where you borrowed these troops from, and if Imperial Father knows of your actions today?"
No one knew the shock he felt when, after bringing half of his forces into the palace, he saw the Crown Prince’s army surging from all directions. No one in the state of Wei knew better than he that the Crown Prince held no military authority.
So where did these soldiers come from tonight?
The answer, of course, lay with the old man currently standing beside Crown Prince Wei Ze.
Xie Mingyuan stood there motionless. Hearing Wei Ling’s question, he replied calmly, "Desperate times call for desperate measures. Since Prince Rong led a rebellion, this old official had no choice but to mobilize troops first before reporting to His Majesty."
Before today, Wei Ling never knew that the Duke of Mingde, Xie Mingyuan, was a man who could lie through his teeth so brazenly. Now that he had fallen, he couldn't help but lament that among those who reached the rank of the Three Ducal Ministers, not a single one was simple.
Among them, those who usually appeared the most unassuming were the most formidable, and the Duke of Mingde was the pinnacle of them all.
Thinking of how he had once been indifferent toward the Duke of Mingde and hadn't taken him seriously, Wei Ling couldn't help but laugh—laughing at his own stupidity.
"Hahahaha! I am the rebel? Then what are you? A Crown Prince colluding with high-ranking ministers to seize military power and force a coup—who is the true traitorous official here!"
Wei Ling found it laughable. Success makes a king, failure makes a bandit; he had simply underestimated his enemy.
So be it...
Looking up, when his gaze fell upon the tightly closed palace doors behind the Crown Prince’s party, he couldn't help but shout at the top of his lungs, "Imperial Father! Come out and see! See who the real rebel is!"
"Your 'good' Crown Prince! Your 'good' son! He conspired with the minister you've entrusted with heavy responsibilities for years to frame me!"
"Hahahaha... Come out, Imperial Father! See how I am being hounded to death by them! How I am being hounded to death by you! Don't you just want to see me and the Crown Prince kill each other? Today, your wish is finally fulfilled! Won't you come see it with your own eyes!"
No matter how glorious he appeared to the outside world, he had always known in his heart that the current Emperor of Wei—his father, his biological sire—merely treated him as a sharpening stone for the Crown Prince.
The Emperor wanted him to compete with the Crown Prince, but the final result could only be his defeat and the Crown Prince’s victory. How pathetic, how ironic!
Prince Rong, Prince Rong—only the honor (Rong), but never the status.
He was still laughing, a frantic, wild laughter. Tears and snot ran down his face as he resembled a stray dog, barking impotently and miserably at those surrounding him.
From the moment the chaos in the palace began, the Emperor’s bedchamber had remained deathly silent. No one entered or exited, as if the people inside were in a deep slumber, unable to be awakened by whatever storm raged outside.
Hearing the repeated shouts from outside, the Emperor of Wei, sitting upon his throne, his lips trembled incessantly, yet he could not make a sound.
After a long, long time, Eunuch Babao, standing below him, finally heard a faint sentence whispered in his ear.
"Was I wrong..."
Eunuch Babao was startled. He looked up at the Emperor, who seemed to have aged a dozen years in an instant, then silently lowered his head again. He replied in a low voice, "It is because the two Princes do not understand Your Majesty’s intentions."
"My intentions?" Hearing the voices outside, the Emperor of Wei chuckled softly, though there was no joy in the sound.
Outside, Wei Ze glanced back at the closed palace doors, then turned back to look at the frenzied Prince Rong below the stone steps. He sighed softly and said in a level tone, "Second Brother, stop shouting. Imperial Father will not pay you any mind."
"You are already a defeated general. The crime you have committed is punishable by death." He dragged out the last word slightly, and at the same time, a strange smile slowly appeared at the corners of his mouth.
It was the smile of a victor, the ultimate mockery given to the loser.
"But considering we are brothers after all, Second Brother, surrender. I will persuade Imperial Father to spare your life. Hereafter, look to yourself."
Seeing that there was still no movement from within, Wei Ling guessed that his father had abandoned him. After all, he had committed the capital crime of treason.
Thinking this, Wei Ling felt a surge of desolation, but his gaze grew even more ruthless. He gritted his teeth and said, "Who wants your false benevolence? I deserve to die? Don't you deserve to die too?!"
"Wei Ze, your end will be no better than mine!"
He exerted force on the blade at his neck, and just as it seemed he would fall dead on the spot, a heavy voice rang out.
"Stop!"
On this bleak autumn night, the flickering torchlight illuminated the open ground. Under everyone's gaze, the long-closed palace doors were finally pushed open slowly.
The Emperor of Wei appeared before everyone, wearing only thin, bright yellow sleeping robes with a cloak draped over his shoulders.
Eunuch Babao supported the Emperor’s ice-cold hand as they walked forward step by step.
Looking at the chaotic scene of carnage before his bedchamber, the Emperor felt a chill in his heart. "Truly... my good sons..."
It was hard to tell if it was grief, anger, disappointment, or desolation. The Emperor’s voice was heavy, each word sounding as if it were being scraped from his throat.
"Greetings, Imperial Father." Wei Ze was the first to bow. Whether in tone, movement, or attitude, he was beyond reproach—still the same elegant, benevolent, and filial Crown Prince of old.
But seeing him now, the Emperor only wanted to laugh—a cold, bitter laugh.
He laughed at himself for being a sovereign for over twenty years in vain, failing to see what kind of person his own son truly was. And then there was Xie Mingyuan.
The Emperor slowly shifted his gaze to the man beside the prince, his eyes becoming incredibly complex. He sighed, "Duke of Mingde, you should not be here tonight..."
There was disappointment and lamentation in his voice.
Whether it was the Crown Prince or Prince Rong who wanted to usurp his throne or rebel, he could understand. But only Xie Mingyuan—this was the man who had supported him since his youth until now...
Since childhood, he had been raised and educated by Tianshu and the ministers around him to become a qualified monarch. Sovereign and subject had relied on each other for decades, their bond deep. He could say with a clear conscience that he had never mistreated the man.
But now, the man had chosen his son over him. Decades of friendship were like a shimmering bubble, vanishing in the blink of an eye.
Xie Mingyuan looked up at the Emperor before the hall. His expression had not changed in the slightest, and his gaze remained as calm as ever.
In the past, this unruffled demeanor had always given the Emperor an indescribable sense of security and reliability. But now, only disappointment remained in his heart.
Xie Mingyuan bowed unhurriedly. "Your Majesty, tonight, this official had to be here."
The Emperor’s lips curled wordlessly into a smile devoid of any mirth. "They say a teacher for a day is a father for a lifetime. Xie Mingyuan, you have done a better job than I, the biological father. Truly excellent."
Xie Mingyuan acted as if he didn't hear the deeper meaning in those words. He merely paused for a moment before speaking calmly, "Your Majesty, this official has disappointed you."
The Emperor said nothing. He only stared at him fixedly for a while before gently closing his eyes and letting out a long sigh.
"Can you tell me why? Is it because you feel the Crown Prince has far surpassed me? That he would be a better monarch than I?"
Despite his disappointment, based on his years of knowing Xie Mingyuan, the Emperor still asked.
He believed that power and reputation were no longer enough to tempt Xie Mingyuan. So what was it that made Xie Mingyuan choose to stand with the Crown Prince?
He had considered the possibility of the teacher-student bond, but he dismissed it in an instant.
For no other reason than that between family and state, Xie Mingyuan would only choose the latter. After Tianshu passed away, he was the most perfect successor to Tianshu’s will. Even someone like Pei Shian would occasionally indulge in personal sentiments, but Xie Mingyuan would not.
He was forever sober and rational.
Amidst the silence, Xie Mingyuan spoke softly. "Whether he is good or not is, in my view, unimportant."
"Then what is the reason?"
The Emperor was unwilling to let it go and asked once more.
But this time, Xie Mingyuan’s answer was something the Emperor could not understand.
He said, "What is important is that I want to let myself live once more."
"What do you mean?"
Not only the Emperor, but everyone present was baffled by his words. However, after Xie Mingyuan finished speaking, he showed no intention of explaining further.
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 镇国公 (Zhèn Guó Gōng) | Duke of Zhen | Wei Xiyang's title. |
| 安国公 (Ān Guó Gōng) | Duke of Anguo | Pei Shian's title. |
| 荣王 (Róng Wáng) | Prince Rong | Wei Ling's title. |
| 明德公 (Míng Dé Gōng) | Duke of Mingde | Xie Mingyuan's title. |
| 东宫 (Dōng Gōng) | Eastern Palace | Metonym for the Crown Prince or his position. |
| 三公 (Sān Gōng) | Three Ducal Ministers | The highest-ranking officials in the central government. |
| 天枢 (Tiān Shū) | Tianshu | Likely a title or name of a high-ranking predecessor/mentor. |
| 八宝公公 (Bā Bǎo Gōng Gōng) | Eunuch Babao | The Emperor's personal attendant. |
