The dream of the red tower shattered

Meanwhile, Zongzheng Mingchen, stripped of his imperial lineage and title, was escorted out of the capital like a stray dog. The once magnificent Ming Prince's Mansion stood with its vermilion gates tightly shut, the seals glaringly obvious; its former glory vanished in an instant.

The road to exile was long and humiliating. The heavy shackles imprisoned not only his body, but also his once invincible dignity.

The escorting officials, having received instructions from their superiors, showed him no respect whatsoever as a "disgraced prince," frequently beating and scolding him and cutting back on his food.

From the capital to the northern border, a distance of a thousand miles, Zongzheng Mingchen experienced hardships he had never imagined.

Eating in the wind and sleeping outdoors was the norm; the cold cornbread was so hard it could break your teeth; and the murky cold water stung your stomach.

His fine silk robes were already tattered, and the coarse cloth prison clothes he had changed into chafed his skin until it was red, swollen, and bleeding. His straw sandals wore through after walking only a short distance, and his feet were covered with blisters and chilblains, making every step excruciatingly painful.

The winds of the North were like knives, scraping across his pampered face and leaving rough cracks and frostbite marks.

The women and sycophants who once surrounded me have all vanished.

All that remained were the shouts of the escorting officials, the curious or disdainful glances of the people along the way, and the numb or equally resentful eyes of the fellow prisoners.

The immense sense of loss tormented him day and night, even more so than the physical pain.

Countless times, he huddled in the drafty thatched hut in the dead of night, gritting his teeth and swallowing back the wails and curses that almost burst from his mouth, leaving only the burning fire of resentment in his eyes that seemed to consume him.

"Zongzheng Hengyu...Zongzheng Zhaoran...and that old codger! You all just wait! As long as I, Zongzheng Mingchen, live, one day I will make you pay a hundredfold!" This became the only belief that kept him alive.

…………

After months of trekking, the group finally arrived at Blackrock, the place of exile in the harsh north.

This place was even more desolate and dilapidated than Zongzheng Mingchen had imagined. As far as the eye could see, there was only white snow and exposed black rocks, with the wind whipping up snowflakes, and the world was a vast and deathly silence.

The so-called town was nothing more than low, crooked mud-brick houses and simple wooden sheds, with the air filled with the unpleasant smell of livestock manure and coal smoke.

He was assigned to a dugout on the edge of the camp, almost half-buried underground. It was dark, damp, cold, and drafty, even worse than the stables in the capital.

Every day before dawn, they were driven to do arduous labor: mining black stones from the frozen ground, which was as hard as steel, or repairing the fortifications and walls destroyed by wind and snow.

Food was rationed, consisting always of black steamed buns mixed with bran and grit, and so-called "vegetable soup" so thin you could almost see your reflection in it. Occasionally, you could see a tiny bit of oil or a frozen vegetable leaf, which was considered a treat. Hunger and cold became his most loyal companions.

The once spirited second prince was quickly worn down by the harsh winds and frosts of the northern border, becoming emaciated, his face dark and his eyes cloudy, leaving only a skeleton supported by hatred.

He learned to work silently under the overseer's whip, to fight with others for a small piece of slightly softer rations, and to squeeze among the filthy convicts in the cold night to draw a pitiful bit of warmth. Dignity? That was already a luxury he dared not even think about.

…………

Just when Zongzheng Mingchen felt that he was about to be completely worn down by this endless toil and despair, turning into a walking corpse, a glimmer of light quietly shone into his dark world.

It was a seemingly accidental opportunity. During a mining operation, he was nearly killed when a collapse buried half his body in rubble due to exhaustion. When he was rescued, he was barely alive. Most of the other convicts were indifferent, and the guards didn't bother to pay much attention to this "useless" man.

However, a middle-aged man named "Old Wolf," a minor officer in the camp, offered him a helping hand.

Old Wolf had an ordinary appearance and rough skin, typical of a northern border dweller, but his eyes held a calmness and shrewdness unlike those of ordinary laborers.

He not only had Zongzheng Mingchen carried back to the relatively warmer work shed, but also secretly gave him some herbs to treat frostbite and sprains, and even occasionally saved some of his own food to help him.

At first, Zongzheng Mingchen remained highly vigilant. He knew that when people were in trouble, unprovoked kindness often concealed deeper scheming.

But Old Wolf seemed to have no other requests, only occasionally chatting with him after he regained some strength. In their conversations, Old Wolf would inadvertently reveal his dissatisfaction with the oppressive government, his disdain for the extravagant lifestyle of the powerful and wealthy in the capital, and his sympathy for the hardships faced by the soldiers and civilians in the North.

These words were like sparks falling into Zongzheng Mingchen's heart, a field filled with resentment and dry tinder.

When Lao Lang "unintentionally" mentioned that things had been calm in the capital recently, that Prince Heng seemed to be more favored by the emperor, and that Prince Zhao was still as gentle and refined as ever, Zongzheng Mingchen's long-suppressed anger and hatred finally erupted.

He practically screamed as he poured out his "grievances" to the old wolf, describing the Hundred Flowers Banquet as a complete frame-up, hurling insults at both Prince Heng and Prince Zhao, and expressing deep-seated resentment towards the emperor's ruthlessness.

Old Wolf listened quietly, without interrupting, only offering a bowl of warm water when the man spoke hoarsely and tearfully. Once he calmed down, Old Wolf sighed and lowered his voice, saying, "Brother Mingchen, your plight is truly regrettable. A tiger fallen into the plains is bullied by dogs… But brother, are you really willing to spend your whole life holed up in this godforsaken place, dying silently like a stray dog? Let those who harmed you continue to live a life of ease and luxury?"

Zongzheng Mingchen suddenly looked up, his cloudy eyes flashing with a terrifying light. He gripped Lao Lang's arm tightly, his nails almost digging into his flesh: "I'm not reconciled! I'd rather die than accept this! Lao Lang, do you have a way? Do you have a way?!"

Old Wolf, seeing the vengeful flames burning fiercely in his eyes, knew the time was right. He cautiously glanced around, lowering his voice to almost a whisper: "There is a way... but it's a path of dancing on a knife's edge, a path of near certain death. Once you step onto it, there's no turning back. Have you thought this through?"

"I've thought it through!" Zongzheng Mingchen said decisively without any hesitation, "I'm willing to do anything to get revenge! Even if it means falling into the deepest hell, I'll drag them down with me!"

Old Wolf, or rather, Lone Wolf, the deepest core spy of Nighthawk Pavilion in the North, looked at the useless prince before him, who was completely twisted by hatred and eager to grasp at any straw for salvation, and a barely perceptible cold smile flashed in his eyes.

"Alright." Old Wolf patted him heavily on the shoulder. "Since you're so determined, brother, I'll help you out. However, this matter needs careful planning and a step-by-step approach. You should recover first, and then I'll arrange for you to do some 'special' work... It's time for you to meet some 'friends'."

From that day on, Zongzheng Mingchen appeared to still be performing hard labor, but his circumstances subtly changed. He was transferred to a relatively easier position, giving him more time to be alone and "recover."

Through Old Wolf's introduction, he began to meet a variety of seemingly ordinary people with different backgrounds: there were low-ranking officers who were ostracized by the court and harbored resentment, there were desperate criminals who made huge profits from smuggling on the border, and even... there were mysterious merchants from the northern grasslands, and he even had contact with officials from the neighboring country of Beiyuan.

The web of intrigue orchestrated by the Nighthawks has begun to quietly weave in this harsh and desolate land of the North.

…………

The Duke of Zhenguo's Mansion.

Su Yuyue sat alone by the window of the embroidered tower, gazing at the withering magnolias outside. The silk handkerchief in her hand was unconsciously twisted tighter, and her fingertips turned white.

Her once beautiful and radiant face was now devoid of color, replaced by endless worry and profound sorrow.

Her mind was filled with memories of her past with Zongzheng Mingchen: his affectionate gaze, his solemn promises, and how he said that once he achieved great success, he would welcome her into the empress's palace in a phoenix coronet and wedding gown... All those sweet memories had now turned into a poison that gnawed at her heart.

“Brother Chen… how will you endure all that suffering in the Northern Territory…” A single tear slid down her smooth cheek, landing on the expensive Suzhou embroidery and spreading a small, dark stain.

She couldn't bear to watch him suffer! Yes, Father! Father was the Duke of Zhenguo, highly respected in the army, and surely had former subordinates in the north! As if grasping at a straw, she lifted her skirt and rushed towards her father's study, disregarding her image.

"Father! Father!" Su Yuyue burst into the study, her voice trembling with sobs and urgency. "Please help your daughter! Please help His Highness Prince Ming! He must be facing immense difficulties in the Northern Territory. Please, please use your connections there, at least... at least let him suffer less..."

Zhenguo Gongzheng was on official business when he heard this and looked up abruptly. Seeing his daughter's distraught appearance, his brows furrowed instantly, and his face darkened: "Nonsense!"

His sharp shout, like a thunderclap, resounded in Su Yuyue's ears, causing her to involuntarily shrink back.

"You dare mention him again?!" The Duke of Zhenguo stood up, his tall figure exuding the imposing aura of someone accustomed to a high position. "Zongzheng Mingchen is a criminal exiled by His Majesty's own decree! He's a deposed prince stripped of his imperial lineage! You want me to grease palms for him? Do you think our Duke of Zhenguo's mansion isn't conspicuous enough, or do you think His Majesty's blade isn't sharp enough?!"

“Father…” Su Yuyue was frightened by her father’s anger, but still tried to explain, “But… Your Highness and I…”

"Shut up!" The Duke of Zhenguo interrupted her, his tone pained and stern. "What affection? It's all just a mirage! He used to approach you and flatter you, all he cared about was the power of my Duke of Zhenguo's mansion! Now he's a complete mess, barely able to protect himself, and you're still clinging to him? Do you want to drag the entire Duke's mansion down with you, to have your so-called 'affection' buried with him?!"

He walked up to Su Yuyue, his gaze piercing, and said, word by word, "Listen to me carefully, from this day forward, forget Zongzheng Mingchen! Put away those thoughts you shouldn't have! If your willfulness makes His Majesty suspect that my Zhenguo Duke's Mansion is involved with the deposed prince, then it will be a catastrophe! I, your mother, your brother, and the lives of hundreds of people in the entire mansion will all be killed by you! Can you bear the consequences?!"