The dead silence in the cold palace was completely broken.
Yin Zhao suddenly jumped up from the ground, the tears on his face were still there, but they were replaced by panic and disbelief.
He almost staggered to the window and pushed open the tightly closed window.
"Woo-hum-!"
The biting cold wind blew in instantly, carrying snowflakes with it, bringing the heart-pounding sound in the distance more clearly.
It was no longer a faint muffled thunder, but the violent sound of war drums, the shrill and continuous blasts of horns, and the terrifying sound of countless people fighting and shouting.
Firelight flickered faintly in the northern sky, painting the snowy night an ominous crimson.
"Really... they really..."
Yin Zhao was so angry that he was shaking all over, and his fingers were tightly scratching the window frame.
The Hejian Alliance, the annual tribute, Concubine Xiao...
The respite that came with all the humiliation turned out to be just an elaborate scam.
A huge sense of betrayal and fear of catastrophic disaster instantly engulfed him.
"His Majesty!"
Chen Xiong was extremely anxious. "Your Majesty, please move quickly! There is a commotion in the palace, and I'm afraid something unexpected may happen!"
At this moment, on the bed, the almost lifeless body of Emperor Yongchang suddenly twitched violently.
His dim eyes suddenly opened wide, and with the last bit of his remaining strength, he grabbed the sleeve of Xiao Wuying, who was closest to him, with his dry hands. He squeezed out a broken and rapid sound from his throat:
"Let's go... take him... go... find... Zhao..."
The last word was not uttered, and turned into a mouthful of black blood that flowed out of the corner of his mouth.
The hand that was holding the sleeve suddenly loosened and fell down weakly.
Emperor Yongchang tilted his head to one side, his eyes still wide open, staring into space, as if he was staring at the end of the empire he could no longer protect.
"The Emperor!"
Lu Chunfang let out a shrill cry and fell to the ground in front of the bed.
Yin Zhao turned around and saw the last scene of his father taking his last breath.
Those open eyes were like a final curse, which made him feel as if he had been hit hard and froze in place.
"Your Majesty! There is no time to grieve!"
Xiao Wuying's voice was cold and rapid, like a tempered steel needle, instantly piercing Yin Zhao's numbness.
He stood up suddenly, his face, which belonged to the shadows, showed no emotion at all, only absolute calmness.
"There is a secret passage leading out of the city at Longchasi. Your Majesty, please follow me immediately."
"Leave? I am the emperor! How can I abandon the capital?"
Yin Zhao roared almost instinctively, the emperor's dignity struggling in despair.
"His Majesty!"
Cao Chunfeng crawled in, his voice shrill and tearful, "Inside the palace... many guards and eunuchs are panicking. Some want to escape, while others are rushing to open the city gates to welcome the Tartars!"
These words were like ice water poured over his head, making Yin Zhao completely sober.
He knew that Cao Chunfeng's words were not empty words, and that the situation within the palace walls was no longer solid.
Xiao Wuying said again sternly:
"Your Majesty! In this critical moment, only by preserving our own lives can we plan for the future! General Zhao is our only hope! If we are trapped here, all will be lost! Your Majesty, will you not obey the Emperor's will?"
"Zhao Muyun..."
Yin Zhao murmured, his father's last words and Xiao Wuying's words intertwined.
He looked at the hopeless situation before him, finally gritted his teeth, a look of determination and pain flashing across his face: "Let's go!"
"Chen Xiong!"
Yin Zhao turned around abruptly. "Immediately gather the imperial guards you can trust and head to the palace gate. Try your best to stop the rebels and stabilize the people's hearts! Every moment you can hold them back is a moment's worth!"
This is an order that is almost suicidal, but someone has to do it.
A tragic look flashed in Chen Xiong's eyes. Without any hesitation, he clasped his fists and said, "I obey your command! I swear to be loyal to Your Majesty until death!"
After saying that, he turned around and rushed out resolutely.
"Cao Chunfeng, follow me!" Yin Zhao shouted at the frightened eunuch again.
Xiao Wuying did not delay any longer and quickly walked to a huge gilded coiled dragon candlestick in the corner of the bedroom and twisted one of the dragon claws hard.
“Zazaza—”
There was a slight mechanical sound, and the bookshelf next to it, which had been tightly closed, slowly slid to the side, revealing a dark hole that was only wide enough for one person to pass through. A cold and damp breath hit me in the face.
"Your Majesty, hurry!" Xiao Wuying was the first to go in.
Yin Zhao took a last look at his father who died with his eyes open on the dragon bed and Lu Chunfang who was crying bitterly. Tears welled up in his eyes again, but he wiped them away fiercely, lowered his head, and went into the secret passage.
Cao Chunfeng crawled to catch up.
The bookshelf slowly closed, as if nothing had happened.
Only Lu Chunfang was left holding the gradually cooling body of Emperor Yongchang, crying desperately and suppressedly amid the shouts and flames that were getting closer and closer outside the window.
......
The north gate of the capital has completely turned into a meat grinder.
The huge battering ram hit the iron-clad city gate again and again amid the shouts of the Tartar soldiers, making a deafening noise.
The city gate shook violently, and the Yin army soldiers behind the gate desperately used wooden pillars and sandbags to hold it up. Every impact caused them to bleed from their mouths and noses.
On the city wall, arrows were flying like locusts.
The Tatars were fierce. Despite the sparse rain of arrows and rolling logs and rocks from the defenders, they frantically set up ladders and climbed up like ants.
People were constantly shot by arrows or hit by stones, falling from great heights with screams, but under the supervision of their superiors, more people continued to surge upwards.
"Hold on! Hold on for me!"
A captain of the Yulin Army of the Yin Dynasty roared at the top of his lungs, swung his sword and chopped down a Tatar soldier who had just appeared, and warm blood sprayed all over his face.
But he was soon nailed to the ground by several sharp arrows.
The sudden attack and the huge disparity in troop strength caused the defenders' resistance to collapse rapidly.
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