Twenty miles outside the capital, at the right army’s camp.

The “sleeve crossbows” had already been secretly distributed to a thousand soldiers. These soldiers were personally trained by Lin Xuanying, fiercely loyal to him. After emergency training, they wielded their guns with the skill to take on a hundred opponents. They knew well the power of their weapons but still didn’t know who their target would be.

Of course, along the way, they had somewhat guessed that these weapons might be used for rebellion.

Therefore, the overall mood was quite tense.

Until this last night, Lin Xuanying gathered them in an open space and coldly said, “Don’t make a sound.”

Then he stepped aside to reveal a man and a woman.

Elite soldiers: “…” Who?

Lin Xuanying: “Congratulations, you are about to achieve great merit by supporting the dragon.”

A few seconds later, a thousand people knelt in unison, without making a single extra sound, expressing their excitement only through their facial muscles.

Lin Xuanying felt proud and turned around, saying, “Please, Your Majesty, give your orders.”

Xiahou Dan nodded slowly and said, “Tomorrow’s goal is to capture Prince Duan alive, kill all other leaders. Spare the soldiers who surrender. You hold powerful weapons, so control the situation quickly to minimize casualties. The blood of Da Xia soldiers should be spilled on the frontier.”

With limited literary skills, he kept his speech simple and direct. But his words clearly resonated deeply, bringing tears to the eyes of a few young officers who had been conflicted throughout the journey, finally feeling they had met a wise leader. The morale of the entire unit was greatly boosted.

Lin Xuanying was satisfied, went over the plan for the next day again, and then dismissed everyone to return to their camps.

Back in the tent, Yu Wanyin whispered, “Let’s disguise ourselves now and be ready.”

Xiahou Dan naturally had no objections and offered his face for her to work on.

As Yu Wanyin applied a fake beard, she smiled, “If everything goes well, by this time tomorrow, we’ll have a bed to sleep in. We’ll send someone to find Uncle Bei, and with A-Bai here, we can reopen our four-person hot pot.”

She never mentioned the possibility of Bei Zhou encountering danger. Xiahou Dan understood her attempt to comfort him with her feigned light-heartedness, so he simply said, “Hmm.”

Yu Wanyin continued, “Xiao Tiancai is still in the palace. Before I left, I suggested a strategy to him about fighting poison with poison. He said it was feasible, maybe by now his research has made a breakthrough.”

Xiahou Dan: “Hmm.”

Yu Wanyin added, “It’s a pity we can’t kill Prince Duan; his death might cause the world to collapse. But I’ve thought of a few creative ways to torment him, want to hear?”

Xiahou Dan sensed something: “Wanyin.” He held her hand, “Don’t be afraid, it will be fine.”

His palm was not very warm, but it was dry and steady.

Yu Wanyin took a deep breath, miraculously calming her mind. In the darkest and coldest night before dawn, they huddled together for a brief nap.

The next morning, the three armies assembled outside the capital.

This city had not faced such a military threat for hundreds of years. The Central Army alone had mobilized fifty thousand troops, fighting their way from the border. Although they lost some men along the way, they still numbered over eighty thousand after joining the left and right armies.

The massive, silent army stood outside the city walls, a black torrent extending as far as the eye could see.

After a moment, the city gates opened, and a small detachment came out.

Leading them was not Xiahou Bo, but a middle-aged man who dismounted and greeted the three commanders cheerfully.

The left and right armies were led by deputy generals, but the Central Army was personally led by General Luo, indicating Prince Duan’s utmost sincerity. Even so, General Luo was clearly displeased: “Huang Zhonglang, why does Prince Duan not appear? Where is he now?”

Huang Zhonglang smiled apologetically, “His Highness has been waiting in the palace, please follow me inside.”

General Luo frowned, selecting a small guard unit to accompany him to the gate. Lin Xuanying coldly watched and followed suit.

Huang Zhonglang then raised his hand to stop them: “Ah, I’m afraid, you must leave your weapons behind before entering the city.”

The commanders’ faces darkened. General Luo sneered, “I’ve led my army thousands of miles to aid, and this is Prince Duan’s hospitality?”

Huang Zhonglang, flustered, tried to placate him, but seeing General Luo unmoved, he leaned in and whispered, “The general may not know, but there might be a traitor in the army… something to do with His Majesty’s remains.”

He glanced at General Luo as he spoke.

General Luo’s face changed, seeming to realize something, his expression one of shock.

Lin Xuanying controlled his expression, pretending not to understand, but felt curious.

They had always thought the fake corpse of “Xiahou Dan” in the palace was Prince Duan’s doing. But now it seemed there was more to it, and it was somehow connected to the Central Army.

What was really going on?

Lin Xuanying boldly declared, “I’m not afraid of an investigation.” He discarded his weapon at Huang Zhonglang’s feet and strode into the city. His guards followed closely, dropping their weapons as well.

General Luo, before moving, signaled his trusted aide left outside with a hand gesture.

He didn’t understand why Prince Duan’s attitude had changed so much towards him. He didn’t suspect Prince Duan but suspected his subordinates, thinking they were stirring trouble. The gesture meant to act according to circumstances and fight if necessary.

In the supply cart at the end of the distant queue, Yu Wanyin watched the city gate through a slit in the window.

She exhaled slowly and turned to Xiahou Dan: “Wait for A-Bai’s signal.”

From the gate to the palace hall, there were ambushers everywhere.

A general’s keen senses quickly detected this. General Luo’s face was already black as coal.

Lin Xuanying, while walking, silently checked the weapon hidden in his sleeve, ready to fire at any moment.

Regardless of the internal situation, Prince Duan’s suspicion was bad news for them—the difficulty of their mission had increased.

Outside the city, a commotion broke out in the ranks.

Yu Wanyin felt it from inside the cart and lifted a corner of the curtain: “What’s happening?”

The secret guard driving the cart had excellent eyesight: “The Imperial Guard commander has arrived, searching the soldiers one by one, pulling out some people, likely looking for suspicious individuals. A group is heading this way, probably to search the supply carts.”

Yu Wanyin’s heart sank. Prince Duan was still the same, trusting no one.

The guns in the cart had been distributed, leaving only some spare gunpowder hidden under a layer of fodder as camouflage. But if someone decided to search thoroughly, it would eventually be discovered.

Her heart raced, and she poked her head out of the window, seeing the Imperial Guards gathering the pulled-out soldiers at the foot of the city wall for questioning.

Yu Wanyin: “They’re definitely looking for the two of us. So, what’s their criteria for pulling people out?”

The secret guard looked again: “They seem to be picking short or thin people.” Thin for Xiahou Dan, short for Yu Wanyin.

Yu Wanyin had a thought. The elite soldiers with guns were all tall and burly, not fitting this category and wouldn’t be searched first.

The secret guard quickly said, “Your Majesty, they’re here!”

“Never mind, let’s act now.” Xiahou Dan raised his gun.

Yu Wanyin pulled her head back and took a deep breath: “Wait, I have an idea.”

Xiahou Dan: “What?”

Yu Wanyin quickly explained, Xiahou Dan only had time to shake his head before the search party reached their cart, shouting, “Open it up.”

The secret guard lifted the curtain, and Yu Wanyin, giving Xiahou Dan a glance, stepped down first.

The search leader looked her up and down, immediately saying, “Take her away.”

Yu Wanyin lowered her head and was led away.

Xiahou Dan: “…”

The leader then stared at Xiahou Dan, who had been disguised as a burly man with a fake beard and padding to appear muscular.

The leader examined him for a while and then pointed at the cart: “What’s inside?”

The leader didn’t recognize Xiahou Dan, but Xiahou Dan recognized him as a minor Imperial Guard commander who had defected to Prince Duan at the foot of Mount Bei. He had two vigilant followers with him.

Xiahou Dan blinked: “Grain.”

Leader: “…”

The leader didn’t understand his rustic accent: “What?”

“Grain.” Xiahou Dan lifted a box of fodder, opened it for him, “Grain.”

“Alright, alright.” The leader said impatiently, “Unload everything and spread it out.”

Xiahou Dan slowly climbed into the cart to unload, giving the secret guard a reassuring look.

Yu Wanyin was taken to the foot of the city wall, where she indeed saw the mute girl among the “suspicious individuals.”

A few days after Xiahou Dan appeared, to maintain strict secrecy, Yu Wanyin no longer had the mute girl serving her closely. The mute girl, unwilling to leave, disguised herself as a man and followed the army, scrounging for food. Unexpectedly, her small stature led to her being singled out today, leaving her huddled in the crowd, bewildered and unsure.

The entire crowd was in an uproar, with the bolder ones loudly questioning why the Imperial Guards were detaining them. These frontier soldiers had always looked down on the spineless Imperial Guards and were already quite displeased by the cold reception they received.

Commander Wen of the Imperial Guards strode over: “Less talking, everyone will be searched one by one!”

Amidst the chaos, Yu Wanyin quietly moved closer to the mute girl and whispered, “It’s me.”

The mute girl turned sharply upon hearing her voice.

“Listen to me.” Yu Wanyin discreetly held her hand, slipping an item into her palm. “You know how to steal, you should also know how to do the opposite, right?”

The mute girl: “?”

Yu Wanyin gestured with her eyes to a man standing in front of them, who was wearing the Central Army’s cloth armor.

Xiahou Dan, after several trips, suddenly stopped moving after climbing into the carriage again.

The henchman, impatient, called out, “Why aren’t you coming out?”

Xiahou Dan: “It’s stuck.”

“What?” The henchman peeked inside, seeing Xiahou Dan’s backside, fiddling with something.

Xiahou Dan: “It’s stuck, can’t move it.”

“Stop playing tricks and come out quickly!” The henchman drew his sword and squeezed into the carriage. “I’m telling you, I have more men outside—”

His voice abruptly stopped.

Xiahou Dan turned around, his gun pointed directly at him.

The henchman almost wet his pants on the spot: “Y-Your Majesty…”

“Shut up.” Xiahou Dan tilted his head slightly, “It seems you recognize what this is. Then you should also know its power, right?”

The henchman trembled and nodded, his eyes desperately glancing at the curtain of the carriage.

“If you call for help, I’ll personally send you to the afterlife, very ceremoniously.” Xiahou Dan said calmly.

The henchman immediately shook his head like a rattle: “Your Majesty, please, just give your orders, I will definitely comply.”

A moment later, the henchman’s voice came from the carriage: “This box is indeed too heavy, you two come up and give me a hand!”

The two henchmen left outside obediently climbed into the carriage.

A few moments later, Xiahou Dan and his secret guards came down from the carriage with three sets of Imperial Guard uniforms, handed them over to three elite right-wing soldiers, and gave them specific instructions.

Meanwhile, a shout came from the foot of the city wall: “Found it!”

The Imperial Guards were holding a Central Army man firmly to the ground, one of them raising a strangely shaped object, exactly like the weapon Xiahou Dan had revealed under Mount Bei: “Found this on him!”

Knowing the power of this weapon, the Imperial Guards were frightened and backed away several steps. Commander Wen took the gun and examined it, trembling, “Go… go report to Prince Duan.” He pointed his sword at the man on the ground, slowly approaching, and signaled his men to tear off the man’s disguise.

The Central Army man angrily said: “What is this? I don’t even know what that thing is! You’re framing me!”

The Imperial Guards tore at his face for a long time, not finding anything, realizing he was not Xiahou Dan, they prepared to take him for questioning.

The Central Army was in an uproar, a trusted aide of General Luo stepped forward: “Commander Wen, what does this mean?”

Commander Wen gripped his long sword tightly, coldly saying: “We are acting under Prince Duan’s orders to search for traitors in the army. We hope everyone will cooperate and not delay important matters.”

The aide, however, was not buying it, stepping forward threateningly: “The person in Commander Wen’s hands is my cousin. I know him well. Is there some misunderstanding?”

The aide had high prestige, and as he moved, the entire Central Army moved with him, drawing their weapons an inch from their sheaths.

Commander Wen looked up sharply, glaring at him with suspicion and uncertainty.

Among the Central Army, three Imperial Guards who were searching the soldiers slightly raised their heads.

One of them walked behind the soldier being inspected, a hand slipping into his sleeve.

Commander Wen, unsure of the Central Army’s stance, made several hand signals behind his back to alert everyone to be on guard, chuckling and about to say a few soothing words—

A loud bang.

A bloody hole appeared in Commander Wen’s forehead, he wavered in place, then fell.

The air froze for two seconds.

The surrounding Imperial Guards went mad with fear, scattering in all directions.

Someone screamed: “It’s the Central Army! The Central Army fired!”

Countless ambushers appeared on the city walls in an instant, bows drawn, aiming at the army below.

The Central Army fell into chaos. The aide retreated into the ranks, the front-line soldiers, not understanding what had happened, instinctively raised their shields and adjusted their formation, entering a state of readiness. The rear ranks looked around in panic but could not locate the source of the explosion—they didn’t even know what made the sound.

The aide shouted: “Our Central Army is loyal to Prince Duan, how dare you scoundrels frame us!”

The Imperial Guards were terrified.

Commander Wen was dead, the deputy commander on the city wall trembling.

The Central Army, with its 50,000 soldiers rebelling, and those outrageous weapons in their hands, how many could resist? How many days could they hold the capital? How would they explain to Prince Duan?

Deputy Commander: “Shoot… shoot! Call for reinforcements from the left and right armies!”

Central Army: “Retreat! Retreat! General Luo is still in their hands!”

Left Army: “?”

The right army leaders were prepared, giving the order to attack the Central Army from the flanks.

Lin Xuanying and others were blocked outside the palace gate again.

A group of eunuchs approached with smiles: “We hope the generals will understand, entering the palace now requires a body search.”

Lin Xuanying knew what Prince Duan was afraid of, secretly sneering. The other two generals were furious, General Luo roaring: “Let Prince Duan come out and say that to my face!”

The eunuch’s smile remained unchanged: “His Highness asked us to convey that if nothing is found, he will personally apologize to the generals.”

General Luo hesitated between anger and restraint.

Lin Xuanying timely added fuel to the fire: “Prince Duan hasn’t shown up yet, is he being controlled by you?”

The eunuch, seemingly prepared, narrowed his eyes: “We hope the generals won’t make things difficult for us.” He waved his hand, and a group of guards emerged from the shadows, surrounding them.

The frontier soldiers, not ones to be easily bullied, also took up a fighting stance, ready to brawl barehanded.

As the standoff continued, a distant shout rang out: “Report—! The Central Army has rebelled—!”

Since the commotion began, the “suspects” at the foot of the city wall had scattered, taking advantage of the Imperial Guards’ lax defense to flee to their respective units.

Amid the chaos, Yu Wanyin tightly held the mute girl’s hand, pulling her behind the right army’s shields. The arrows from the city wall were all aimed at the Central Army, giving them a moment to breathe.

In fact, this was the final goal of her improvised plan.

While the Imperial Guards and the Central Army fought, the elite right army soldiers with guns had quietly approached the city wall, using the formation adjustment to aim their guns at the wall—while the Imperial Guards remained oblivious.

“Your Highness.” A familiar giant approached, recognizing her by her figure, protecting her as they retreated to the back of the formation.

Yu Wanyin: “Where is His Majesty?”

“Here.” Xiahou Dan, with a grim face, squeezed over, reaching out his hand, “Don’t run around anymore.”

Yu Wanyin smiled and took his hand.

Xiahou Dan pulled her behind him, nodding at the giant.

The giant raised his gun and shouted: “Kill!”

Outside the palace gate, General Luo’s men were fighting to the death with Prince Duan’s guards.

They hadn’t left any backup plans; perhaps they were suspicious before entering the city, each carrying hidden weapons. Skilled in martial arts, they fought fiercely, forcing out many hidden soldiers.

But there were too few of them. One by one, they fell, leaving only General Luo struggling.

Lin Xuanying watched coldly from the side, observing all the hidden soldiers, assessing the strength of both sides. Finally, he acted.

He shot the eunuch: “Move!”

For everyone present that day, it was an unforgettable event.

However, most of them, until their dying day, could not clearly describe what happened.

If they had to use words, perhaps only “divine punishment” could suffice.

One moment, the Central Army was being attacked from three sides. The Imperial Guards on the city walls rained arrows like locusts, the right army was actively participating in the siege, and the left army, hearing the commotion from the Imperial Guards, reluctantly joined in.

But the three attacking sides fought independently, not coordinating, and no one could command the others. The Central Army, seasoned warriors, quickly formed ranks and decisively fought back. Their overwhelming numbers and coordinated cavalry charges disrupted the ranks of the left and right armies. They even brought siege ladders from the supply wagons, showing they were determined to fight to the end.

The Imperial Guards, terrified by this ferocious momentum, fired arrows recklessly at the Central Army, trying to stop their siege.

Until the right army shouted “Kill,” the battle remained deadlocked—

The next moment, the world turned upside down.

What was that sound? Not the ancient drums echoing on the battlefield for millennia, but like countless thunderbolts, filled with the wrath of the heavens, striking both the city walls and the Central Army simultaneously.

The soldiers outside the city walls looked up in horror, seeing a spray of blood where the thunder passed.

No known weapon could cause such terrifying destruction.

The first row of Imperial Guards, including the deputy commander, were obliterated in seconds.

Several leading Central Army generals, brave all their lives, fell from their horses as ghosts, not knowing what hit them.

The rest stood frozen in terror, as the divine punishment continued to rain down.

No known defense could withstand it.

Shields and armor, designed to block weapons, seemed like tofu. The celestial thunder smashed soldiers and crushed their fighting spirit.

Finally, someone shouted: “The right army… it’s the right army!”

The “suspects” they were so wary of revealed their true identity—not one, not two, but an entire army.

The elite Central Army soldiers, led by General Luo, were fierce and undefeated.

But now, the front-line soldiers collapsed.

They weren’t facing a battle, but a massacre, the gates of the underworld opening, the ten Yama Kings descending.

This retreat spread like wildfire, collapsing their formation. Soldiers fled, colliding with the advancing rear, a chaotic mess like a swarm of ants.

If the Central Army was in such disarray, what chance did the Imperial Guards have?

The attack from the city walls lost all momentum, the terrified soldiers only wanting to retreat behind the walls to save their lives.

Some fearless Imperial Guards, taking advantage of the terrain, still tried to shoot arrows down; and the left army, not understanding what was happening, charged forward.

However, the tide of people quickly dispersed like waves.

The right army, well-prepared and with ample ammunition, seemed endless. The giant subordinates of Lin Xuanying commanded effectively, not losing a single soldier since drawing their guns.

The giant saw the right moment and waved his hand: “Raise the ladders!”

In the city, Lin Xuanying shot down the eunuch and two generals with three shots, efficiently taking out several leaders and continuing to kill the remaining enemies.

His elite squad, all top-tier experts, moved quickly and efficiently, almost never missing a shot against Prince Duan’s ambushers.

Although more soldiers continuously emerged from the palace, their morale was obviously low, lacking the courage to enter the shooting range, only daring to circle from a distance, occasionally shooting arrows and concealed weapons.

Lin Xuanying, taking cover, scoffed at their attempt to deplete their ammunition: “Wishful thinking.”

Listening to the distant thunder at the city gate, he leisurely said: “Guess how long until they breach the city?”

That day, both inside and outside the city experienced a technological baptism.

In fact, after the first wave of indiscriminate bombardment, the right army focused entirely on breaching the city, no longer targeting the left and Central armies.

However, after catching their breath, the left and Central armies still hesitated.

The city gate burst open.

The right army began to crush the Imperial Guards inside the city.

Among the Central Army, some soldiers, ashamed of being cowards, struggled to raise their spears towards the right army, but their feet felt like lead, unable to take a step.

With a clang, the spear fell to the ground.

The soldier seemed oblivious, murmuring: “Is this the end for us?”

At that moment, a flag was unfurled from the city gate. A black background embroidered with golden dragons, nine streamers fluttering in the cold wind.

The imperial banner of the emperor.

Xiahou Dan, holding Yu Wanyin’s hand, ascended the city walls. Their disguises completely removed, they stood silently overlooking the rebel army below.

The giant beside them, with a voice like thunder, called out: “The Emperor is here, surrender now!”

The rebel army was stunned.

Before today, these soldiers only guessed they were working for Prince Duan, dealing with the remaining loyalists.

No one had told them they were opposing the emperor.

Opposing the emperor, what crime was that?

A surviving left army deputy general, driven to madness in despair, shouted: “The Emperor is dead, this must be a right army imposter! The right army… the right army are the rebels!”

The giant looked at Xiahou Dan. At such a time, the emperor himself had to assert his authority.

Xiahou Dan nodded and prepared himself.

Xiahou Dan: “A mangy dog, daring to bark wildly before my army, I’ve never seen such shamelessness!”

The right army, hearing this, roared with a killing frenzy.

Yu Wanyin: “…”

Yu Wanyin: “…”

Xiahou Dan, sensing her wide-eyed reaction, chuckled softly: “I’ve been holding that line for ten years.”

The giant: “?”

Xiahou Dan then raised his voice: “The traitor Xiahou Bo forged imperial decrees, summoned foreign soldiers to the capital, attempted to murder the emperor and empress, and committed heinous crimes. Now that the truth is revealed, everyone will condemn him!”

His aura of authority was something no impostor could mimic.

The deputy commander, knowing this deep down, collapsed to his knees, his face ashen: “I… deserve to die a thousand times!”

Xiahou Dan paused for effect, then continued: “But the empress shows mercy, acknowledging your ignorance. Surrender today, and you will be spared.”

The rebels surrendered.

The right army, with unstoppable momentum, stormed into the city, joined forces with Lin Xuanying to deal with the remaining Imperial Guards, and quickly headed for the palace.

The city’s residents, hiding in their homes, heard the army’s thunderous march outside, trembling in fear, not knowing how many days they would have to hide. Little did they know, the situation had already changed completely.

Xiahou Dan, stationed outside the city, received a report from Lin Xuanying’s aide moments later: “Prince Duan is hiding in his chambers, refusing to come out, holding the Crown Prince and the family of the Grand Duke as hostages. General Lin dares not force entry, requesting Your Majesty’s instructions…” The aide seemed puzzled but relayed the message verbatim, “Requesting Your Majesty’s permission to ‘take the shortcut’.”

Xiahou Dan: “…”

Xiahou Dan: “Do it.”

Lin Xuanying, familiar with the palace, led his men to the cold palace, pried open the locks, lifted a pile of disguising covers, and entered the tunnel.

When they emerged from the other end of the tunnel, a farce was playing out in the bedchamber.

A eunuch, seeing the dire situation outside, urged Prince Duan to “live to fight another day,” trying to push his wheelchair to escape, only to suddenly pull out a dagger, aiming to kill Prince Duan as an offering to save his own life.

Even in his miserable state, Xiahou Bo still had a few loyal bodyguards hiding in the shadows. The bodyguards jumped out to capture the eunuch, and in his fury, Xiahou Bo twisted the eunuch’s neck with his bare hands.

At the brink of madness, Xiahou Bo maneuvered his wheelchair toward the hostages, pointing to a woman and instructing his bodyguards, “Kill her, cut off her head, and throw it out for Xiahou Dan to see.”

At that moment, Lin Xuanying and his men sprang out from beneath the bed, swiftly and accurately shooting down all the bodyguards.

Xiahou Bo turned to them, seemingly smiling, his eyes flashing with cold pleasure, as he raised an object toward Lin Xuanying.

It was the gun that Yu Wanyin had framed the Central Army with, which had then been seized by the Imperial Guards and brought into the palace.

Lin Xuanying’s pupils contracted, and he quickly dodged to the side—

Xiahou Bo, however, turned the gun on himself, fumbling to pull the trigger—

Nothing happened.

Yu Wanyin had removed the ammunition from the gun back in the supply cart.

Lin Xuanying’s men rushed forward, restraining Prince Duan, binding his limbs, and stuffing a cloth in his mouth to prevent him from biting his tongue.

Lin Xuanying, heart still pounding, patted his chest and walked back to Prince Duan, giving him a malicious smile: “Prince Duan, wanting to die? If His Majesty knew, he would be so—heartbroken.”

Lin Xuanying then led his men to clear out the remaining loyalists of Prince Duan in the city.

Fearing Prince Duan’s cunning and that he might have left bodyguards as a last resort, Xiahou Dan and Yu Wanyin did not enter the city immediately but stayed on the city walls, giving a stirring speech to the army outside.

After collecting all the rebel weapons, Yu Wanyin directed the treatment of the wounded while Xiahou Dan temporarily appointed several loyal henchmen to help maintain order.

Halfway through cleaning up the aftermath, Lin Xuanying emerged with a grim expression, signaling Xiahou Dan to speak in private.

“We found the body Prince Duan used to impersonate you.” Inside the city wall, Lin Xuanying led Xiahou Dan to a coffin and had his men open the lid, revealing the corpse inside.

Xiahou Dan stepped closer, looking down at this pale, lifeless, and eerily accurate version of himself.

It was so lifelike.

Lifelike to the point that even those most familiar with him would find it hard to see the difference.

To mimic this closely required not only superb skill but also a profound understanding of him…

When Yu Wanyin arrived, she saw Xiahou Dan standing motionless by the coffin.

Lin Xuanying, his voice low, said, “I thought of exposing the body to the public to dispel any future rumors. But I saw that the mask had already been removed, so I took a look first…”

He gently lifted a corner of the thin mask on the corpse’s face.

Bei Zhou lay silently before them.

Yu Wanyin felt her legs weaken, stumbling to stay upright.

Xiahou Dan remained with his head lowered, showing no reaction for a long time.

Lin Xuanying, recalling the time spent with his estranged senior brother, felt a tightness in his chest seeing Bei Zhou’s tragic end. But after years of facing death, he quickly regained his composure: “I had someone investigate and brought a doctor from the Imperial Medical Institute who knows some details. Would Your Majesty like to see him?”

Xiao Tiancai was brought in.

He bowed nervously and, upon seeing Yu Wanyin, discreetly nodded to her in greeting. Yu Wanyin, remembering that he didn’t know of Xie Yong’er’s death, felt a stab of pain, struggling to maintain her composure.

Xiao Tiancai: “Reporting to Your Majesty, this person… Nanny Bei… Mr. Bei?” He tripped over his words, carefully watching Xiahou Dan’s expression.

Xiahou Dan: “Speak.”

Xiao Tiancai had to choose a form of address: “Mr. Bei was brought into the palace by the Central Army for Prince Duan. He was impersonating Your Majesty, not only in appearance but also in mannerisms, fooling everyone in the palace, including Prince Duan.

“Prince Duan planned to detain Your Majesty, so he had doctors treat Mr. Bei’s injuries. I assisted my master during the treatment. Mr. Bei was gravely injured, barely breathing, but fully conscious, behaving exactly like Your Majesty. My master noticed some discrepancies in his pulse but wasn’t sure and, fearing Prince Duan, didn’t speak up immediately.

“Back at the medical institute, my master, after much deliberation, confided in me. Hating Prince Duan, I persuaded my master to keep the truth hidden.

“Days later, Mr. Bei’s condition worsened. He collapsed, vomiting blood, and during the cleaning, the palace maid discovered his disguise. I happened to be delivering medicine and overheard the palace maid rushing to report to Prince Duan. Knowing things were dire, I used a sedative on the guards, sneaked in, and used acupuncture to wake Mr. Bei, informing him of the impending danger.

“Only then did I learn he was Nanny Bei from Your Majesty’s side.

“He recognized me, remained calm, and asked if Prince Duan had captured the real emperor. I said no. He then urged me to cure Your Majesty’s poison, and I promised to do my best. He smiled in thanks and told me he had been trying to kill Prince Duan but had no chance due to his severe injuries. With this final opportunity, he asked for my help.”

Xiao Tiancai’s voice choked as he recounted the memory.

“I knew he was going to make a desperate attempt, so I administered acupuncture to stimulate his remaining strength. He instructed me to hide and feign unconsciousness, waiting for Prince Duan to come.

“Later, I saw from afar that Prince Duan entered with a group of his men, and soon after, one of them was carried out dead. I deduced that Prince Duan, being cautious, sent his men to check on Mr. Bei. Unable to get close, Mr. Bei could only kill one of them…”

Xiahou Dan stood like a statue, seemingly determined to remain still forever.

Yu Wanyin waited a moment before gently asking Lin Xuanying to escort Xiao Tiancai away. She approached Xiahou Dan, holding his hand. They were both as cold as ice.

Xiahou Dan: “I told him I wasn’t his long-lost child.”

Yu Wanyin: “… When?”

“Before we last parted.”

Yu Wanyin sighed deeply: “Uncle Bei had few attachments in life. Maybe to him, you were already his child. So… he did it willingly.”

After an indeterminate time, Lin Xuanying returned, seeing them still standing by the coffin, shaking his head. He stepped forward, exerting force to close the coffin lid: “No more looking. I’ll send a letter to my master. He and Bei Zhou were close friends. We should consult him about the burial.”

He patted Xiahou Dan: “My master is very skilled and has predicted many things. Perhaps he has a solution for your poison. Stop standing here. Do you want me to find a private place for you to cry it out?”

Xiahou Dan turned around, his eyes dry: “Watch Xiahou Bo closely. Don’t let him die. I need to plan how to entertain him.”

Xiahou Bo was confined to the deepest part of the dungeon, guarded by the royal secret guards.

These guards, who had followed Xiahou Dan to the end in the original timeline, were spared this time due to the reversal of fate. Trained by Bei Zhou himself, they harbored deep hatred for Xiahou Bo and would not let him off easily.

The dark cell had no windows, no light, pitch black, making it impossible to tell the passage of time.

A foul stench filled the air.

His wheelchair had long been taken away, his hands bound, leaving him to lie on the damp straw. Perhaps due to a high fever, he could no longer feel the pain in his legs.

Beyond the smell of excrement, there was a lingering scent of decay—his body was rotting from the inside.

Sweating profusely, he lay dying, his eyes wide open in the darkness. He felt an overwhelming sense of confusion, as if his life should not have taken this path, ended this way.

At some point, he drifted into a vivid dream.

In the dream, he was at the pinnacle of power, having cunningly eliminated the Empress Dowager and the Emperor. During a drought, the country starved, and Yan State took advantage, pillaging and killing. But he, the wise and powerful regent, repelled the invaders and, with his supreme reputation, led Da Xia through the hard times, eventually being granted the throne by the Crown Prince, becoming a great ruler.

Confident and proud, he surveyed the world, a slender figure by his side. He thought it was Yu Wanyin, but when he turned, he could never see her face clearly.

Just as he was puzzled, a basin of ice water crashed over him, and he fell back into the cell.

Xiahou Bo squinted toward the sound.

Yu Wanyin stood outside the iron bars, holding a candlestick. The crimson light cast an eerie glow on her beautiful face.

After a few moments of silence, Xiahou Bo rasped: “I dreamed of the scene you predicted. I stood at the pinnacle, worshipped by all.”

Yu Wanyin looked at him with near-pity.

Xiahou Bo, immediately angered by her gaze, showed only sorrow on his unmarred side: “Wanyin, tell me honestly

, does your ‘Heaven’s Eye’ really exist, or is it just a ruse?”

Yu Wanyin smiled: “Of course, it’s real. What you dreamed was your original fate, beautiful, wasn’t it? If only you had told me about your dream earlier, I could have delayed the water.”

Xiahou Bo: “?”

Yu Wanyin: “Sorry for interrupting your dream. Let me fill in some details for you.”

She described how he would have won glorious battles, how his Central Army soldiers fought valiantly alongside him, how they worked in perfect harmony…

Xiahou Bo’s composure finally broke: “Enough. Victory or defeat, I have no regrets for fighting with you, but using your ‘Heaven’s Eye’ to turn the three armies against me was dishonorable.”

Yu Wanyin nearly laughed at his attempt to define honor: “Forgot to tell you, the Central Army never betrayed you. They captured His Majesty not knowing he was a decoy.”

She had discussed it with Xiahou Dan. When Bei Zhou separated from them after escaping from Mount Bei, he headed north—the direction of the Central Army.

From Bei Zhou’s perspective, it was clear he had planned to impersonate Xiahou Dan to divert attention; his capture was deliberate, aiming to kill Prince Duan and sow discord. Even if he failed, his capture by the Central Army would plant seeds of doubt in Prince Duan’s mind.

And he was right. That seed, nourished by Prince Duan’s paranoia, grew into the fruit of his downfall.

Bei Zhou understood everything.

But when he made his plan, he had just learned Xiahou Dan’s true identity. What thoughts passed through his mind at that moment, they would never know.

Just as she would never know if Xie Yong’er understood she was walking toward her death when she stepped out of the carriage to delay Mu Yun.

The more pain Yu Wanyin felt inside, the wider her smile: “You know, General Luo believed until his last breath that the Imperial Guards had captured you and he was rescuing you. Imagine how the Central Army soldiers would feel if they knew you betrayed them based on a mere suspicion…”

Xiahou Bo’s remaining strength finally drained away, and he fell silent.

“I did not—” Xiahou Bo’s face contorted, “It was your interference!”

Yu Wanyin ignored him, “The truth is, by that point, the outcome was already determined regardless of the Central Army’s actions. Even if His Majesty and I had died, the right army would have come and given you a spectacular demise.”

Xiahou Bo thought of the otherworldly weapon they wielded, and his vision darkened with hatred.

How could heaven be so unfair, making him struggle like an ant all his life, yet showering Xiahou Dan with such favor?

Yu Wanyin seemed to read his thoughts, “Actually, you once had a chance to turn the tide. Heaven sent you a person, someone who could have defeated us. She was deeply in love with you, ready to stand by your side, in perfect harmony.”

A blurry figure from his dream flashed before Xiahou Bo’s eyes. A lively voice echoed in his ears: “Yong’er will accompany His Highness to the highest places…”

“Shut up,” he rasped.

He wanted the best, the very best—

So much so that he couldn’t even remember her face.

Yu Wanyin looked at him coldly, “Long ago, you personally destroyed your only chance.”

Xiahou Bo suddenly exploded, “Shut up! If it weren’t for you… if it weren’t for you…”

He couldn’t continue, as Yu Wanyin’s lips curled into a mocking smile.

Xiahou Bo took a deep breath, “I’ve lost completely. Please, grant me a swift death.”

“A swift death?” Yu Wanyin shook her head, “I’m not here to kill you, I’m here to save you.”

She signaled the secret guards to open the cell door and light the torches.

A group of palace servants and doctors entered the cell, holding their noses as they began to clean the floor and disinfect his body.

Yu Wanyin said, “Your legs are beyond saving. They need to be amputated. It might save your life.”

Recalling some modern medical knowledge, Yu Wanyin gave the doctors detailed instructions on sterilization and blood stoppage, then had the servants gag Xiahou Bo with a cloth: “Prince Duan, don’t die. As long as you live, there’s still a chance for a comeback, isn’t there?”

She smiled maliciously, turning to leave. As she walked through the long corridor of the dungeon, the muffled screams of Xiahou Bo echoed behind her.

When the result of the amputation reached the emperor, Xiahou Dan was in a meeting with Li Yunxi and others.

Seeing him, they were naturally moved to tears, overwhelmed with emotion. Xiahou Dan forcefully restrained Li Yunxi’s overzealous behavior and was instructing them on important matters when the imperial doctor arrived, trembling: “Prince… Xiahou Bo survived, but he still needs to recover from the fever and wake up before he’s out of danger.”

Xiahou Dan raised his eyebrows: “He survived? He’s truly indestructible.”

He sounded as if genuinely praising him, even with a hint of sincere joy. The old doctor, frightened, knelt without daring to lift his head, reconsidering whether saving Xiahou Bo had been the right choice.

Then Xiahou Dan commanded, “Cook his amputated legs until they are tender and serve them to him when he wakes. Also, no food for him for three days.”

The doctor left, almost staggering.

Li Yunxi’s face turned pale. He hesitated, seemingly contemplating whether to advise the emperor on the ways of rulership. However, meeting Xiahou Dan’s gaze, a surge of fear silenced him, and his lips, already parted, closed again.

At that moment, he felt the emperor before him was truly on the verge of madness.

The capital was in a state of recovery.

Lin Xuanying was still leading his men, rooting out the remaining rebels.

The ultimate victor, Xiahou Dan, seemed eager to initiate a thorough purge. Upon returning to the throne, he swiftly started a great reckoning.

The faction of Prince Duan was completely eradicated.

Some senior members of the Empress Dowager’s faction, who had placed their bets on Xiahou Dan during her downfall, barely had time to celebrate their gamble before being dismissed or exiled.

The deeply rooted factions were uprooted, veteran ministers who had survived three reigns were stripped of their ranks. Numerous estates were sealed, and countless private treasuries were confiscated.

Meanwhile, the officials who had opposed Prince Duan, some imprisoned, some hiding at home, and others on their way back to their hometowns, were summoned back and reinstated. Additionally, the emperor promoted a group of officials who had long been languishing at the bottom, filling the gaps in the bureaucracy.

Li Yunxi and others were rapidly elevated to high positions.

The emperor had just eliminated Prince Duan with divine might, and those supernatural “divine soldiers” were still patrolling the capital, at the height of their power and prestige. Everyone was too shocked to oppose; at this moment, not even a drastic reshuffle in the court would be questioned, let alone if Xiahou Dan decided to move Mount Bei to fill the sea.

However, this wasn’t the only reason for his urgency.

Such a brutal transfer of power was indeed somewhat hasty. His method of dealing with Prince Duan’s loyalists would likely earn him the title of tyrant.

But there were things he did not want Yu Wanyin to handle.

Yu Wanyin was studying the maps.

They had minimized casualties as much as possible, but the rebellion had caused some destruction in battles with regional forces. The newly appointed Minister of Works had just submitted a report on the damaged cities and roads awaiting repair.

Yu Wanyin, recalling Xie Yong’er’s plan for a courier and delivery service, requested the maps, marking major roads. This was an opportunity to plan the transportation network.

She didn’t know how much she could change this world with her limited capabilities, but with the internal and external threats from the original timeline resolved, and talented individuals flocking to their cause, the future looked promising.

She heard movement beside her and saw the mute girl bringing a teapot to refill her cup.

Clothes make the person. The once skinny, ragged thief, now tidied up and dressed in a palace maid’s attire, displayed a touch of maidenly charm. Her complexion was still sallow, a sign of long-term malnutrition.

Grateful for the girl’s help along the way and fearing she might be bullied in the palace, Yu Wanyin kept her close. The mute girl, naturally quick-witted, quickly adapted to her new role.

Seeing her gaze at the map with curiosity, Yu Wanyin waved her over: “Come look, can you find your hometown?”

The mute girl looked for a while, then shook her head, unclear if she meant “can’t find” or “don’t remember.”

She pointed to Yu Wanyin.

“You’re asking about me?” Yu Wanyin thought for a moment, her origins not from this dimension. Searching the map for her own family’s location, she couldn’t pinpoint it either. Finally, she said: “I don’t remember either.”

Mute girl: “?”

“But that’s alright. I have a new home now. You will find yours too.”

Remembering Xiahou Dan’s words, “You are my home,” Yu Wanyin’s smile quickly turned somber.

Everything was improving… except for one thing.

After the chaos in the capital subsided, she immediately summoned Xiao Tiancai.

During their absence, Xiao Tiancai had not given up on the “fight poison with poison” strategy, spending all his time buried in medical texts.

Xiao Tiancai: “I found remnants of ancient prescriptions for the two poisons His Majesty was afflicted with. But the recipes are incomplete, and several ingredients have bizarre names. Further research revealed they are in Qiang language, but what herbs they refer to, or if they exist in Da Xia, is unknown.” He handed over his transcriptions, “Can you send people to investigate in Qiang?”

The Qiang Kingdom, having sheltered Prince Yan Zha Lu Wahan, was now being ravaged by General Tu’er’s forces.

Even if she wrote to Tu’er immediately, asking him to interrogate the prisoners; even if they were lucky enough to get some information; even if Tu’er collected the herbs and sent them back— it would take at least three months.

But it had already been ten days since Xiahou Dan’s last dangerous episode. She didn’t know when the poison would claim him, but he likely couldn’t wait three months.

Yu Wanyin: “Can you speculate the effects of these herbs and find substitutes in Da Xia?”

Xiao Tiancai: “…Given time, perhaps.”

“Given time?”

“At least three years.” Xiao Tiancai knelt in apology.

What more could Yu Wanyin say? She said, “Rise, it’s not your fault.”

Now, all she could do was send a message to Tu’er and hope for a miracle.

During her long silence, Xiao Tiancai hesitated several times before finally speaking up: “May I ask, how is Consort Xie… did she have a smooth journey?”

Yu Wanyin: “…”

She couldn’t meet his eyes: “We lost contact after she left the palace.”

Xiao Tiancai paused, looking worried: “Ah.”

“I will send people to look for her,” Yu Wanyin said, clenching her fists.

Should she tell him?

How should she tell him?

Xie Yong’er had specifically asked them to keep the truth from Xiao Tiancai before she died, saying, “If he knew I was dead, he might stop working.” But perhaps her real intention was to spare him from grief.

If he only thought she had lost contact and disappeared into the world, it would at least leave him with a glimmer of hope…

While Yu Wanyin was still torn about what to do, Xiao Tiancai had already thanked her and was about to leave.

“Wait.” Yu Wanyin took out a letter from her sleeve and handed it to him.

This was a letter Xie Yong’er had entrusted to her on the night she left the palace. Through all the turmoil, Yu Wanyin had kept it close, and finally brought it back intact.

Xiao Tiancai couldn’t wait even a moment longer and opened it right there in front of her.

Yu Wanyin didn’t know what Xie Yong’er had written and watched his expression anxiously.

As he read, Xiao Tiancai’s face turned red. He hastily folded the letter, almost stumbling as he left, unable to hide the joy in his eyes.

Yu Wanyin stood motionless, watching him go.

Everything was getting better… except there was no place for them in that bright future.

Two days later, Lin Xuanying suddenly reported: “My master is here, waiting outside the palace for an audience.”

Xiahou Dan went to greet him in person, Yu Wanyin, her spirits lifted, followed.

The nameless guest had an ethereal presence.

Dressed in simple clothes, with white hair and beard, his face seemed ageless. His fox-like eyes, filled with a knowing smile, glanced over each person as if seeing through them into the void beyond.

In short, he had the look of a guide NPC.

Their eyes met, and it was Xiahou Dan who first saluted: “I have long admired your reputation, sir.”

This person had sent both Bei Zhou and Lin Xuanying to them, earning this gesture of respect.

The nameless guest, unlike many legendary recluses, returned the salute kindly: “Your Majesty, Your Highness, you have worked hard.”

Yu Wanyin was stunned, feeling that his all-knowing greeting was fitting of a guiding immortal.

A gust of wind passed by, Lin Xuanying dashed past them and leaped: “Master—!”

The nameless guest raised a finger, as if erecting an invisible wall, stopping him mid-air: “A-Bai, you’ve been out for years, yet your skills haven’t improved much?”

Lin Xuanying cried out in protest: “Do you think it’s easy for me? Training soldiers, fighting battles, and searching for antidotes…”

At the mention of antidotes, Yu Wanyin quickly looked to the nameless guest. He showed no reaction, merely smiling: “You have done well.”

Lin Xuanying immediately swelled with pride: “Indeed.”

Nameless guest: “?”

Moments later, they stood before Bei Zhou’s coffin.

The nameless guest solemnly lit an incense stick, speaking softly: “Years ago, on a stormy night, I witnessed a transformation of heaven and earth atop a mountain. That reading exhausted half my life’s cultivation, forcing me into seclusion for years. A being from another world arrived, offering an unexpected turning point for this realm. Yet the hidden dragon should not be used; Your Majesty’s fate was rewritten, fraught with great peril.”

He sighed slightly: “To cross the great river, there must be a way. Bei Zhou accompanied Your Majesty through this trial, achieving his own desire.”

Yu Wanyin, half-understanding, couldn’t help but ask: “When you advised Uncle Bei to come to the capital to find His Majesty, did you already know he would die protecting him?”

The nameless guest remained silent, his face showing compassion.

Yu Wanyin found it hard to accept.

A seer who could see fate yet could not save people, even pushing them toward predetermined outcomes. What was the point of such knowledge?

The nameless guest turned to Xiahou Dan: “Bei Zhou once told me that after his death, he wished to be buried beside his old friend, to accompany her forever. I hope Your Majesty can fulfill this wish.”

Xiahou Dan nodded in agreement.

Yu Wanyin was flooded with countless questions.

Could the nameless guest see everyone’s fate? Did he know Xiahou Dan’s future? How long did he have left? Could it be changed?

He had sent Lin Xuanying to search for an antidote for years, yet Xiahou Dan’s poison remained unresolved. Did this mean the nameless guest was also powerless?

Or perhaps, Xiahou Dan’s purpose was to bring new life to this world, only to vanish like a shooting star?

But they were out of options, with their last hope standing before them.

Yu Wanyin opened her mouth to ask, but Xiahou Dan spoke first: “In your opinion, how should Xiahou Bo be dealt with?”

The nameless guest replied: “Until the emperor’s star is fully restored, the nation’s fate still rests on Wuqu and Tanlang. Now that Tanlang has fallen and Wuqu is dim, the nation’s fate is still not fully settled. If he were to die prematurely, Wuqu would extinguish, harming the nation’s destiny. I urge Your Majesty to reconsider.”

Xiahou Dan: “So to keep the world running, he must live out his natural life?”

“There is no absolute; once the emperor’s star is restored…”

Xiahou Dan raised a hand: “Let him die slowly?”

The nameless guest: “.”

The nameless guest: “That is the gist.”

He squinted, stroking his snow-white beard: “Man follows the earth, earth follows the heavens, heavens follow the Dao, the Dao follows nature. The great flow of the world is like a flood, unstoppable. Going against the current is like an ant trying to move a mountain, there’s no way to break through.”

Yu Wanyin felt he was hinting at something.

The question she had held back all this time was now at the tip of her tongue, but she dared not ask. She feared the answer would be “let it be.”

The nameless guest spoke just then: “To follow the mandate of heaven is to hear the Dao.”

Yu Wanyin’s heart sank—the moment he said this, he looked straight at her, with what seemed like a mysterious smile.

The nameless guest asked softly: “Do you remember the twenty-four characters I sent?”

The emperor’s mandate will change, the emperor’s star will be restored. Mars guards the heart, fortune and misfortune are intertwined. When the five stars align, misfortune will end and fortune will come.

Perhaps due to hearing too much of the nameless guest’s cryptic wisdom, that night Yu Wanyin had a dream.

She walked through a narrow corridor, passing palace servants who looked anxious, as if a great disaster was imminent. They were so hurried that they barely acknowledged her presence, and no one asked why she was there.

Her hand trembled inside her sleeve, her palm sweaty, gripping something tightly.

What was she about to do?—Go kill someone.

Why?—She couldn’t remember, but she had to go, immediately.

“Consort Yu, His Majesty is waiting.” Anxian opened the door, bowing.

Anxian? Wasn’t he killed by Prince Duan? And when did she become Consort Yu again?

Yu Wanyin vaguely realized this was a dream, but her limbs in the dream moved on their own, step by step toward the dragon bed.

Stop, don’t go!

She lifted the bed curtain, her voice trembling: “Your Majesty.”

The skeletal figure on the bed moved, a pair of gloomy eyes staring at her—

Yu Wanyin gasped and sat up.

“Wanyin?” Xiahou Dan, lying beside her, groggily opened his eyes.

Yu Wanyin remained stiff, unable to speak.

Xiahou Dan sat up, had the night guards light the lamps, then waved them away, turning to her: “Why do you look so pale? Did you have a nightmare?”

“Do you remember…” Yu Wanyin found her voice hoarse, “When we first met, I told you that in ‘The Tyrant’s Beloved Consort,’ the tyrant dies at the end of the book from an assassination?”

“Yes, but you couldn’t remember who the assassin was.”

Yu Wanyin struggled to speak, then closed her mouth again.

She had just remembered who it was.

In the original story, she was deeply infatuated with Prince Duan but always overshadowed by Xie Yong’er, never gaining his favor. After several failed attempts, Prince Duan grew to despise her, stating he never wanted to see her again.

In despair, she gave Prince Duan a final gift.

She stabbed Xiahou Dan with a poisoned dagger, giving Prince Duan a legitimate reason to enter the palace as a savior.

The tyrant died from his wounds, and the villainous consort didn’t meet a good end either. Prince Duan didn’t want a treasonous stain on his glorious life, so he ordered her to be hanged, burying her with the tyrant.

Yes, it was all the doing of a scheming consort, leaving the great savior with no choice but to ascend the throne in tears.

Even though she knew this plot belonged to the original story, Yu Wanyin was disgusted by the content and timing of her dream.

Xiahou Dan asked, “What did you dream about? Why don’t you tell me?”

“…Nothing.” Yu Wanyin couldn’t bring herself to say it, muttering softly, “It’s just strange why it happened today, after seeing the Nameless Guest…” Seeing a mystic and then dreaming of long-forgotten plot elements made it hard not to see it as an omen.

Seeing her reluctance to speak, Xiahou Dan didn’t press further: “It’s nothing. Dreams are just illusions. You’re just feeling down lately.”

He spoke so objectively, as if her “feeling down” was due to a bad meal rather than the looming threat of his death.

Yu Wanyin sighed: “Let’s sleep.”

As he said, that plot couldn’t possibly happen. Xie Yong’er was dead, Xiahou Bo was crippled, and all the disasters in the original story had been nipped in the bud. They had already changed their fate, and even the so-called “five-star alignment” had passed…

Yu Wanyin suddenly jolted and sat up again.

Before Xiahou Dan could ask, she jumped out of bed and rushed to the window, pushing it open to look outside.

Xiahou Dan: “Why don’t you even put on your shoes?”

The view from the window was limited, so Yu Wanyin didn’t find what she was looking for. She dashed out the back door.

Xiahou Dan, his hair disheveled, chased after her, draping a cloak over her shoulders: “For heaven’s sake, put on your shoes.”

Yu Wanyin stood on the cold stone floor of the courtyard, frozen like a statue looking up at the sky.

Xiahou Dan followed her gaze upward: “…Ah.”

In the familiar position in the night sky, five main stars shone with a cold light, forming a perfect straight line.

The last time they checked, the tail of this line was curved. She had thought the five-star alignment had passed, signaling the end of that calamity. She hadn’t expected it to be yet to come.

Xiahou Dan squinted: “If I remember correctly, this is an omen of a king’s assassination, right?”

Yu Wanyin shivered, her mind racing through all her memories involving the Nameless Guest.

As if compelled by an unseen force, Lin Xuanying’s words to Xiahou Dan echoed in her ears: “My master left me one more message: Your meeting might not be a fortunate event.”

Her heart plunged into a bottomless abyss.

The Nameless Guest had told them to follow the mandate of heaven. Could this “mandate” be the original plot?

Did that mystic intend for her to kill Xiahou Dan?

Yu Wanyin was livid.

She glanced around, considering the feasibility of summoning the Nameless Guest in the middle of the night.

Xiahou Dan looked at the sky, then at her, seeming to understand, and chuckled.

In the dark, he looked as pale as a wandering soul, his expression calm: “Five stars align, and the bad times turn to good—losing a mad king and gaining an empress would indeed be a turning point for this world.”

“Don’t talk nonsense!” Yu Wanyin snapped, “You living is what will bring the turning point!”

Xiahou Dan, trying to soothe her, said, “Alright, you’re right. Now put on your shoes.”

Yu Wanyin: “…”

Since their reunion, Xiahou Dan had always appeared remarkably calm in front of her.

He seemed like a young man in the throes of first love, always clinging to her, eating, drinking, enjoying the moment.

It seemed he had decided to ignore the looming death. When Yu Wanyin was down, he would crack jokes to change the subject.

Yu Wanyin finally put on her shoes.

“It’s freezing, let’s go back.” Xiahou Dan pulled her back into the house, tucking her under the blankets, “If you can’t sleep, we could do something to warm up?”

Yu Wanyin: “?”

Yu Wanyin: “Don’t you want to talk about this?”

“Which part? The assassination?” Xiahou Dan lay back down beside her comfortably, “I’d rather, if it came to that, die quickly than spend days or weeks in agony. Maybe I’ll even ask you to do it.”

Yu Wanyin was stung by his casual tone: “Do you think I’d actually kill you?”

Xiahou Dan thought for a moment: “It would be hard for you. No matter what happens to me, it’s up to you.”

A string snapped in Yu Wanyin’s mind.

“Up to me,” she repeated softly.

Xiahou Dan hesitated and tried to amend: “I didn’t mean it that way…”

“Do you mean I get to choose whether to kill you quickly or watch you die slowly?”

Xiahou Dan panicked.

He watched her for a moment before remembering to find a handkerchief.

“If it were truly up to me, I’d have kicked you out on the first day, or come after you died! I wouldn’t have wanted to know you, to eat hot pot with you, to read your letters…”

Xiahou Dan finally found a handkerchief, awkwardly handing it to her, but Yu Wanyin didn’t take it.

She had held back too long and finally broke down, crying uncontrollably: “How can you be so cruel to me?”

Xiahou Dan was silent for a moment before pulling her into his arms, gently soothing: “Fortunately, the empress is magnanimous, forgiving, and can bring peace to the people for centuries.”

“I can’t!”

“But you can. A-Bai reported that before I returned, you were already capable of handling everything. It will only get better.” He patted her back gently, “Stop crying. I’m sorry, alright? If there is such a thing as reincarnation, I’ll repay you in the next life.”

“I don’t want the next life. I want this life.” Yu Wanyin didn’t care how unreasonable she sounded, like a child begging for the moon, “I want you to stay with me—”

Xiahou Dan: “…”

Xiahou Dan whispered, “I want to stay more than anyone.”

Yu Wanyin hiccupped, hearing the unusual tone in his voice. She pulled away to see him. Xiahou Dan’s eyes were filled with tears, looking at her with gentle helplessness.

“But there’s nothing I can do.”

Yu Wanyin suddenly realized she shouldn’t waste Xiahou Dan’s efforts.

He had tried so hard to leave her with happy memories, to comfort her. But she had made him cry.

She gradually calmed her breathing, took the handkerchief, and blew her nose: “Alright, then make it up to me properly.”

After the harsh winter, the weather gradually warmed.

The secret letter sent to Tu’er had yet to receive a reply. The chaotic war in Qiang made it uncertain whether Tu’er had even received the letter.

Whenever not attending court, the emperor seized every opportunity to spend time with the empress. They enjoyed boating on the lake, moon-gazing, snow-watching, and embroidery, thoroughly relishing each moment.

Xiahou Dan’s condition visibly deteriorated. He ate and slept less each day, his eye sockets becoming deeply sunken, increasingly resembling the tyrant from Yu Wanyin’s nightmares. She knew his headaches were intensifying toward a critical point.

But he never showed any pain in front of her, disappearing for a while when he couldn’t bear it. Yu Wanyin pretended not to notice.

She had cried once and wouldn’t cry again in this lifetime.

The Astronomical Bureau, at the emperor’s behest, selected an auspicious date for the grand empress’s conferment ceremony.

This unprecedented ceremony, starting from the preparation phase, shocked the court and country. The emperor seemed to want to demonstrate his power, celebrate his late ascendancy, and publicly declare the empress’s honor, completely washing away the stigma of her alleged treason.

This ceremony symbolized the beginning of a new era, so it had to be grand and innovative. Not rigidly solemn but gracefully magnificent.

The newly reshuffled six ministries faced their first major challenge, working tirelessly to coordinate everything.

Gold and jade artifacts and embroidered regalia were brought into the palace by the cartload, along with rare flowers and plants seldom seen in winter, transported from all over the country to adorn the entire palace in a dazzling display of color and fragrance.

For three days before the ceremony, a fragrant aura pervaded the halls, as the emperor led civil and military officials in fasting and incense burning, offering sacrifices to heaven and earth.

On the day of the ceremony, music filled the air, flowers carpeted the path, and a woven tapestry extended from the palace gate to the ceremony hall. The empress, dressed in splendid attire, walked gracefully, the golden light from her phoenix crown cascading like a river of stars.

Yu Wanyin walked with her head held high, regal and composed, through the prostrating crowd. Her long ceremonial gown swept the ground, like the unfolding of a dream.

Lin Xuanying, in charge of security, watched her walk towards her solitary destiny with a complex expression.

After the lengthy ceremony, the empress bowed before the incense table, performing the six-salute and three-kneel, three-bow ritual. The emperor then helped her up, standing hand in hand to receive the courtiers’ homage.

The eight-year-old crown prince approached to pay his respects, his head lowered and eyes downcast.

Since the empress dowager’s death, he had seemingly received some sage advice, suddenly becoming obedient. He not only cried and repented in front of Xiahou Dan but also prepared numerous gifts for Yu Wanyin, calling her “mother” with such reverence that it seemed he was determined to be a compliant puppet, making it temporarily difficult to find grounds to depose him.

The officials followed, chanting praises for the empress. Their faces varied, some cautious, others reverent. Yu Shaoqing’s family, who had narrowly escaped death, was tearful, while the young officials who had interacted with the empress looked pleased.

Traditionally, the ceremony would end here.

But Xiahou Dan was not satisfied, smiling: “On such a rare auspicious day, the empress and I have arranged a palace banquet to celebrate with all my beloved courtiers.”

The banquet then continued from noon into the night, with exquisite delicacies, fine wines, and sweet fruits served like flowing water.

Li Yunxi watched with furrowed brows, repeatedly questioning the propriety of such lavishness.

As night fell, Xiahou Dan, slightly drunk, suddenly grinned: “Empress, watch me perform some magic for you.”

With a grand gesture, countless bursts of light rose from the surrounding flowers, blossoming in the sky.

The fireworks, temporarily modified, were intricately beautiful, layer upon layer of sparkling blooms illuminating the night, making the stars and moon seem dim in comparison.

The officials exclaimed in amazement, some laughing heartily, others composing impromptu poems.

Li Yunxi, being coaxed into drinking by Yang Duojie, had no choice but to resign himself to the situation.

Let them be happy this once; I’ll persuade them tomorrow.

Yu Wanyin had also been toasted with several cups of wine. Though it was just fruit wine, after so much, her head was already starting to swim.

In her blurred vision, the fireworks cast a shifting light on Xiahou Dan’s flushed face, making the surrounding noise seem distant. In the far-off sky, the clear and dust-free moon seemed to look down on this beautiful mortal scene with pity.

“Are you satisfied, Empress?” Xiahou Dan whispered in her ear, smiling.

It was both a compensation and a gift, something to remember during future storms.

Yu Wanyin felt the warm wine burn inside her, heating her insides.

Without waiting for her answer, Xiahou Dan took her hand: “Let them drink. We’ll slip away first.”

Leaving the noise behind, their ears buzzed with the sudden silence.

The emperor and empress had the attendants follow at a distance as they strolled through the corridors, digesting the feast. The fireworks had faded, and the moonlight regained its dominance, casting the imperial garden into a world of pure glass.

Yu Wanyin knew this was the time to talk about love and quickly return to the room for three hundred rounds of rolling around.

But the alcohol magnified her inner greed and made her tongue uncontrollable. When she spoke, it was: “If we weren’t in this book…”

She was still unsatisfied, wanting more.

The Nameless Guest’s prophecy and the involuntary nightmares had awakened her existential crisis. If everything was predetermined, were they merely playing roles? How much of this relationship was fated?

Since entering this world, Yu Wanyin had been in survival mode, forced to fight for her life. Xiahou Dan was her only peer, her natural ally; their coming together seemed predestined.

Now, she finally had the luxury to dwell on love, to worry about bothersome details.

Like whether their relationship was inevitable for Xiahou Dan or simply the only choice.

If they hadn’t come to this world, if there were other people like them, would he still fall for her without hesitation?

It was too late to ponder such questions now. She didn’t know why she suddenly craved an answer or who could provide it.

Before she could organize her thoughts, Xiahou Dan had already continued: “If we weren’t in this book, by 2026, I would have worked for a few years. We might have met on the subway.”

Yu Wanyin: “?”

Xiahou Dan leisurely looked at the moonlit garden, his tone dreamy: “The subway would be very crowded. I’d be standing, scrolling through my phone, and suddenly notice a girl sitting in front of me, also reading a novel on her phone. She’d be laughing at something in the story, and I’d glance at her, finding her very cute.”

Yu Wanyin smiled, following his lead: “She wouldn’t like being watched and might glare at you. But then she’d see you’re handsome and silently forgive you.”

Xiahou Dan: “Then I’d get bold and ask for her WeChat. Would she give it to me?”

“…Hard to say.”

“Please, I’m not a weirdo.”

Yu Wanyin couldn’t help but laugh: “Alright, alright.”

“Great. I’d talk to her about novels, invite her to movies, take her to the top ten hot pot places in the city. Each time we met, she’d seem more interesting. Every day, we’d be more in sync. Then, if I saw she didn’t hate me, I’d start sending her flowers, one bouquet after another, lots and lots of flowers.”

Xiahou Dan gazed at her, as if painting a sweet dream with his words: “How long could I hold out? Three months, four months, maybe half a year? One day on the way home, I’d grip the ring box in my pocket tightly and tell her: ‘I can’t imagine a life without you.’ I’d secretly watch her reaction, and if she didn’t respond… I’d hold out a bit longer.”

Yu Wanyin laughed: “No way, are you that timid?”

“I’m afraid she’d say no.”

Perhaps it was the alcohol, or perhaps the enchanting night, but Yu Wanyin’s heart raced, her cheeks flushing once more.

She suddenly couldn’t bear his intense gaze and turned her head slightly: “Unfortunately, there’s no subway or movies here.”

“But there are still rings.”

Xiahou Dan slowly knelt on one knee, presenting a ring.

Yu Wanyin saw the phoenix wings outstretched, ready to take flight, and upon closer inspection, the sparse phoenix feathers among the sycamore branches.