The wind upstairs was fierce, making people's robes flutter loudly.
"Cough cough..."
The suppressed cough drifted through the cold, desolate night sky, like a withered leaf torn apart by the cold wind.
Xiao Cheng climbed the corner tower on the bluestone steps, the soles of his boots making a soft sound as they rubbed against the stone surface.
From afar, one could see the slender figure of their master standing by the railing, his black cloak fluttering in the wind as if it might be blown away at any moment.
The moonlight cast a cold silver hue on his features, making his pale face appear even more like a jade sculpture.
"You're here?"
Zhou Yun'an didn't turn around. His slender fingers rested on the mottled stone railing, and his voice was so soft that it was almost drowned out by the wind.
"Yes, Master."
Xiao Cheng strode forward and silently stood between Zhou Yun'an and the wind.
Zhou Yun'an waved his hand, "It's alright, I'm not made of clay."
Before he could finish speaking, another suppressed cough came. He quickly covered his lips with a handkerchief, but as he pulled it back, Xiao Cheng, with his sharp eyes, caught a glimpse of a striking red.
"How did your talk with Prince Rong go today?" Zhou Yun'an asked, clenching his handkerchief tightly, as he changed the subject.
Xiao Cheng frowned: "That old fox, Prince Rong, is not honest. I'm afraid he might betray us."
"Turned against us?" Zhou Yun'an chuckled lightly, but his eyes were icy cold. "Of course he'll turn against us. With Lu Nancheng dead, the first people he'll target are us."
He gazed at the distant lights of the imperial city, his voice growing cold: "If he could betray his own people, he could betray his allies."
"Then I will immediately eliminate this scourge..." Xiao Cheng's hand was already on the hilt of his sword.
"No need." Zhou Yun'an suddenly coughed violently, his thin shoulders trembling uncontrollably, but he still raised his hand to stop it. "Cough cough! We still... have a use for him..."
Seeing him sway, Xiao Cheng quickly stepped forward to support him: "Master, let's go inside. The night wind is chilly; you can't afford to catch a cold."
This time, Zhou Yun'an did not insist and let Xiao Cheng help him walk into the pavilion.
His steps were unsteady, yet he still kept his back straight, as if he were trying to support a heavy burden with his ailing frame.
It was much warmer inside than outside.
Xiao Cheng helped the person sit on a cushioned armchair, then turned and lit the candlestick.
The flickering firelight dispelled some of the chill, illuminating Zhou Yun'an's tired yet still sharp features.
"Master, I don't understand," Xiao Cheng asked while brewing hot tea, "Why would we deliberately let Lu Jingze know about our plan? Wouldn't that be like stirring up trouble?"
Zhou Yun'an took the teacup, his eyes growing even more profound amidst the rising steam.
The tea reflected the candlelight, casting flickering shadows in his eyes.
"Xiao Cheng, do you know exactly how our Dayong dynasty was completely swallowed up by those traitors?"
Xiao Cheng shook his head.
Zhou Yun'an spoke slowly, his voice carrying a chilling coldness, "Back then, the downfall of our Dayong was due to the instigation of these traitors. Traitors in the court colluded with them from within and without. Now, these powerful families rise to prominence by betraying their emperor and father, stepping over the corpses of their compatriots..."
His fingers tightened unconsciously, and the porcelain cup emitted a faint groan.
"Now, I want more than just great achievements." He looked out the window at the inky night and said, enunciating each word clearly, "I want to bring pain to all, from the highest levels of government, to make them feel the pain that ordinary people like us suffer! To make them taste the bitterness of fratricide and the separation of family members."
As the last sentence fell, the candlelight suddenly leaped, casting a hideous shadow on his pale face.
In the distance came the dull sound of the night watchman's clapper, striking the night as if to atone for this vow.
Xiao Cheng's teapot trembled slightly, and he didn't even notice the scalding tea splashing onto the back of his hand.
He gazed at his master's almost pale profile in the candlelight and suddenly remembered that snowy night ten years ago—twelve-year-old Zhou Yun'an knelt before the ruins of the ancestral hall, his ten fingers digging into the blood-stained frozen soil, burying his wet nurse, who had been by his side since childhood, into the snow.
"Master..." Xiao Cheng's throat tightened, "But what if Lu Jingze had taken precautions beforehand..."
"It's good that he's on guard." Zhou Yun'an suddenly curled his lips into a smile, a smile that gave his sickly appearance a strange, alluring beauty. "I want him to watch them walk step by step into their own doom, just like the late Emperor watched helplessly as the Crown Prince was pierced by a thousand arrows..."
Before the words were finished, a soft clattering sound came from outside the window.
Xiao Cheng instantly drew his sword, its gleaming blade cleaving through the night, the tip pointing directly at the shadowy rafters: "Get down here!"
A dark figure tumbled down like a hawk, and as it knelt on one knee, a cold blade pressed against its neck.
The newcomer was dressed in night clothes, and his face mask slipped off, revealing a scarred face—it was Chen Qi, an undercover agent lurking in the Rong Prince's mansion.
"Your Majesty, Prince Rong just secretly sent a message to the palace, saying that there's more to the poison that Prince Jing suffered." Blood trickled from Chen Qi's forehead, but he dared not wipe it away. "Furthermore, Prince Rong has already found the antidote and is preparing to present it."
Upon hearing this, Zhou Yun'an chuckled softly, which triggered a new round of coughing.
He loosened the handkerchief he had been clutching, letting the blood-stained silk flutter to the ground: "As expected...cough cough...he really couldn't wait..."
Xiao Cheng suddenly understood his master's scheme and gasped: "You deliberately leaked the fake plan to Lu Jingze..."
"It's a ruse." Zhou Yun'an slowly stood up, leaning against the back of his chair. The moonlight cast a long, slender shadow of him. "The one who will truly bleed... is Prince Rong."
Zhou Yun'an looked at Chen Qi and said, "There's something I need you to do."
Chen Qi kowtowed deeply: "I will obey my master's arrangements."
"The Crown Prince Rong secretly switched the horses in the Imperial Stables, and coincidentally, those horses would go mad upon smelling musk..."
The candle wick popped open with a "pop," creating a small flame.
Zhou Yun'an's pale fingertips brushed against the night dew that had condensed on the window frame, and he suddenly remembered a poem he had learned in his childhood: "The dew is white tonight, and the moon is bright in my hometown."
But the moon over Dayong shattered many years ago.
"Tell General Han to lead a group of men to...Kulin Street in three days."
Xiao Cheng looked up in confusion: "This Bitter Forest Street is...?"
"Lu Jingze's only son was to accompany the Imperial Academy students on his day off to the outskirts of the city to observe the lives of ordinary people. This place was remote and on a necessary route."
Zhou Yun'an spoke as casually as if discussing tomorrow's weather, "Tell me, if he were to watch his young son being trampled into a bloody pulp by galloping horses... wouldn't that be more painful than death?"
The night wind suddenly became biting, carrying paper ash from who-knows-where into the window.
As Chen Qi received his order and withdrew, he saw his master using a dagger to hold the blood-stained handkerchief close to the candlelight.
In the scent of burning silk, he heard an almost murmured whisper: "This game has been going on for ten years... it's time to wrap things up."
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