subversion
In an instant, Yan Ji felt as if he were in the snowstorm of the northern frontier, his hot blood turning cold, and endless ghosts wailing in his ears, shattering his kneecaps and invading his old dreams.
He stood there, stunned, the faint female voice still lingering in the night, forming merciless frost flowers, "I have heard that His Majesty now favors the Seventh Prince's birth mother, Lady Wang. Although the Seventh Prince is not a pillar of the state, he is kind and benevolent, and it is not impossible for him to be a ruler who maintains the status quo."
"Having said that, does Your Highness still think you have victory in your grasp?"
……No.
"No--!!"
Yan Ji roared and kicked over the candlestick. The lotus-shaped candles rolled to the ground, and the wax dripped onto the red silk cloth, instantly igniting into a raging fire.
He flung aside the person in front of him, casually gathered his robes, didn't put on his hat, and strode out the door without looking back.
Below, Xie Lingxi was suddenly thrown by him and almost fell heavily, but fortunately she managed to prop herself up with one elbow in time to avoid being hurt.
The fire grew larger and larger, setting the red tent ablaze and igniting old dreams.
Outside, the rain was pouring down, drenching the eaves and making a clear, rustling sound.
She lay half-crouched in the firelight, her long black hair hanging down to the ground, barely obscuring her eyes. Her delicate hands rested on the candlestick, her fingertips stained with red wax.
—The room was filled with red, and the eyes were filled with blood.
She suddenly trembled all over, unable to suppress a sound from her throat, her hair falling over half her face as she moved—she was actually laughing.
"Hahaha... Hahahaha!"
...
Yan Ji rebelled.
According to the palace servants of Mingguang Palace, at the third watch of the night, just as the rain stopped and before the roosters crowed, he appeared disheveled, looking like a demon, riding a tall horse and leading his troops through the southwest gate.
For some reason, the city's guards were very lax tonight. Before long, Yan Ji's troops gathered from all directions. They managed to kill only a few Imperial Guards before reaching the palace gate.
Amidst the clamor of men and horses, and the smoke of battle, the emperor was awakened from his sleep.
Emperor Yongxu has been feeling weak lately, often sleeping soundly for days on end. In his half-awake state, he frequently sees scenes from one or two decades ago before his eyes—
At that time, he had just ascended the throne, was physically strong, and full of ambition. He embraced the vast land and had thought of conquering the south and the north, expanding the territory.
Later, the government selected virtuous and capable officials, opened up the imperial examination system, and broadened channels for expressing opinions.
I don't know when it started, but I've been bedridden for a long time, like a dragon trapped in shallow water, unable to die.
He listened to the resounding drumbeats, as if he could smell the winds from beyond the Great Wall again. He raised his hand to summon a palace servant and asked in a hoarse voice, "Outside... cough cough... what's going on?"
In an instant, the eunuchs knelt on the ground. The incense burner was accidentally knocked over, and the dragon's blood incense spilled into the hall, but no one had time to pay attention. The sound trembled and whispered—
"Your Majesty! Your Majesty! The Prince of Jin has forced the emperor to abdicate! He's going to rebel!"
The person above seemed not to have heard clearly, and murmured, "The Prince of Jin... is it Ji'er...?"
His mind went blank again, and he mumbled, "That child, how old is he now? Is he up to my shoulder yet?"
The voice was soft and extremely old, yet the prince and his palace servants heard it clearly, and they all kowtowed uncontrollably, tears streaming down their faces, "Your Majesty—"
The monarch was dying, and a new dynasty was established.
Outside the palace.
Fighting and killing took place everywhere, both on the steps and beneath the palace walls. Smoke rose above the palace, obscuring the stars and moon and making the atmosphere exceptionally cold and eerie.
On the wet ground, the remaining rain and blood mingled together, soaking countless corpses.
Yan Ji stepped on a head, his black boots stained with vermilion, his brows even more sharp. He walked up the many steps, pushed open the palace door, led his troops in, brandished his sword and axe, and threw down the cloth bundle he had been carrying!
Emperor Yongxu was suddenly awakened from his sleep—
He stared intently, his cloudy eyes fixed on the front. On one side was Ji'er, his mouth filled with blood, and on the other side were the severed heads of his other sons, cut off from their necks.
The blood is still warm.
"You, you...!"
He struggled to his feet, raised his hand shakily, wanted to curse but didn't know what to say, his lips moved, overwhelmed with grief, his eyes filled with devastation, and he coughed up a mouthful of blood.
Yan Ji looked quietly at the king before him, who was already at his last gasp, and suddenly smiled: "Father, you named me 'Ji' back then. After more than twenty years of learning, I have mastered both literary and military skills, as well as decisiveness in battle. Are you satisfied?"
As he spoke, he took another step forward.
Even as the Imperial Guards raised their spears and surrounded him, he showed no fear. Wiping the blood from his hands, he calmly asked, "What? Is Father going to kill me?"
He spread his arms wide, shouting, "The nation and its people—"
"Shouldn't it have been handed over to me?" Yan Ji's eyes were bloodshot and filled with tears. He waved his arms and legs, seemingly delirious. "Brother, my dear brother... are crippled, dead. Only I... am left... your most beloved Ji'er!"
"But why has Father delayed in establishing an heir?!" he roared, his voice shaking the jade platform in the hall. "Since Father refuses to hand it over to me, I, Ji'er, have no choice but to come and ask for it myself... Who can be blamed for the current situation..."
He chuckled softly, "It's all Your Majesty's fault for having a son whose bloodline is as inferior as yours."
Emperor Yongxu just stared at him without saying a word for a long time.
These words had already stirred up a storm of emotions within the people in the hall—
The Prince of Jin has gone mad.
They can say anything, including derogatory and insulting words that should never be used against members of the royal family. But now, those surnamed Yan are either dead or crippled, leaving only these two in the palace.
One is delirious and talking nonsense, the other is on the verge of death.
They were also in a dilemma because His Majesty did not issue an order: Although Prince Jin had forced the emperor to abdicate, he had killed all the imperial heirs. Who would sit on the throne?
The Prince of Pingnan is dead, and his old followers are in decline. Not to mention that even if he were alive and well, given the animosity between His Majesty and this prince, His Majesty would not choose one of his sons to ascend the throne.
Should we really go looking for that fictitious prince who was lost outside the palace?
Utterly absurd.
On this side, the Imperial Guards dared not make a move, and could only watch helplessly as Yan Ji stepped forward and held a knife to the emperor's throat.
He looked at the aged sage, closed his eyes in sorrow, and pronounced, as if delivering a verdict, "Draft the decree."
Blood was still being shed outside the palace.
Before long, the sounds of killing and stabbing gradually subsided, and the sky began to lighten with the first light of dawn.
Inside the palace, Yan Ji's subordinates faced off against the Imperial Guards. On the high platform, the Sage sighed deeply, as if releasing all the pent-up energy of his life, and picked up his brush—
A squad of soldiers burst in instantly. Before anyone could react, the leader swung his long arm and pointed his spear at the Prince of Jin!
The emperor froze.
When he saw who it was, he said in a deep voice, "Chu Qing."
The word "Chu Qing" brought everyone back to their senses.
The person who arrived was Chu Liying, the current commander of the Golden Guard, who was in charge of the governance of Chang'an and the guard of the palace. She had now arrived in the hall.
Emperor Yongxu spoke: "Are they all dead?"
Chu Liying kowtowed, her demeanor upright, "Your Majesty, the traitors outside the palace and within the city have all been executed."
Having said that, he looked sharply at the person trapped among the countless long ropes, "Your Highness Prince Jin."
At this moment, the morning bell tolled at dawn, solemn and lingering. The darkness and bloodshed of the night had vanished, and the beautiful dream of the Prince of Jin, lost to the eastward flow of time, would never return.
The situation had reversed, and the previously arrogant figure was now utterly defeated. Except for a few in the palace, Yan Ji's personal guards had been completely wiped out. He was only momentarily surprised, then continued to laugh, his initial lowered gaze turning into a raised head, before he burst into loud laughter: "Hahahaha—"
"Heaven is not on my side!"
His eyes were dark. "But Father, I still won."
An ink stain seeped onto the bright yellow silk paper. Yan Ji stared intently at Emperor Yongxu's hand, as if he wanted to burn it. Yet his tone was soft, as if he were recounting a hazy dream, "What are we waiting for, Father?"
Emperor Yongxu hesitated to put pen to paper.
What started as a simple cold turned into a heart problem that left him paralyzed in bed, unable to stand up, as if he had suffered a stroke.
These days, he had taken countless elixirs without any improvement, and he knew his life was coming to an end. Like an old horse struggling to stay in its stall, before he could even figure out what would happen after his death, Yan Ji gave him this wonderful surprise.
In a fleeting moment of lucidity, I felt unwell all over, dizzy and lightheaded. Words stuck in my throat, I couldn't speak clearly.
Outside the palace gates, ministers were already hesitating as they approached.
"Jin..."
His words were mumbled, only one word uttered before the newcomer abruptly cut him off—
The princess, dressed in magnificent attire and exuding great authority, strode into the hall and proclaimed, "Father, why make things so difficult for me?"
Emperor Yongxu's gaze flickered, "Aying...?"
Yan Ying smiled and lowered her eyes, standing gracefully beside him. She bent down, took the king's hand, and looked very concerned, speaking softly: "Why doesn't Father understand—traitors and villains deserve to be killed by everyone."
"Today, Prince Jin led so many people to force the palace in rebellion, hoarded troops, harmed his own brothers, and questioned His Majesty. Any one of these acts alone is a capital offense. Father Emperor has always been decisive in killing; how can we tolerate such a disloyal and unfilial person living in this world?"
She suddenly spoke in a loud voice: "Where are the laws and moral principles of the country? Where are filial piety, righteousness, loyalty, and brotherly love?"
"Did all my brothers die in vain?"
As soon as he finished speaking, the heads of several princes were pushed around by the wind and rolled over, their eyes still open.
In an instant, the hall fell silent.
Who wouldn't secretly think: "Isn't he just a victim of the power struggle, dying in vain?"
Below, Yan Ji glared and said, "Yan Ying! You don't need to spread rumors in front of the Emperor!"
"Is this really so strange?" Yan Ying looked down at him. "You're allowed to kill and set fires, but I'm not allowed to speak? How can a nobleman with such a narrow mind and such brutal methods help the people of Great Yan become prosperous and strong?"
She leaned close to the emperor's ear and whispered, "Father, the title of Prince of Jin should be stripped, he should be demoted to a commoner, and he should never be allowed to set foot in Chang'an again."
“Oh no,” Yan Ying said, touching the nail polish on her fingertips, “Prince Jin is bloodthirsty by nature. He should lay down his sword, shave his head and become a monk, and be confined to a temple for life to atone for the sins of his relatives and brothers.”
Emperor Yongxu paused, as if he was considering something.
Yan Ji was furious: "You—!"
He was so angry that his hair stood on end, and he suddenly flew into a rage, grabbed the knife and stabbed at the wound!
Yan Ying dodged to the side.
She was already very close to His Majesty, and with this dodge, the sharp knife instantly and fiercely pierced Emperor Yongxu's chest, leaving a huge bloody hole!
The next instant, the emperor collapsed like a mountain.
The princess knelt on the ground, wailing uncontrollably: "Father!"
"Smack—"
The weapon fell to the ground in a daze.
Yan Ji collapsed to his knees with a thud, his hands covered in the emperor's warm blood. His eyes widened in disbelief as he looked at the lifeless emperor before him and stammered, "Father...Emperor."
...He never considered killing his father.
Just then, the court officials rushed in like a swarm of bees. Upon seeing this scene, they were all stunned and frightened, and some of the older officials even lost their footing and fainted.
When they arrived, they saw mountains of corpses and seas of corpses, but they did not expect that the coup in the palace would only be completely over at this moment.
As everyone was astonished, an arrow suddenly flew from nowhere and pierced the chest of the Prince of Jin, who was lying on the ground, blooming into a bright red flower, exactly the same as the one on the Emperor's chest.
The Prince of Jin... is dead?
He died just like that?
Chu Liying bent down to check, and found that the Prince of Jin was still in the same position, but he was no longer breathing.
The hall fell silent once more.
No one blamed him, no one questioned him, and they couldn't even utter a word. After a long while, Prime Minister Cui stepped forward, closed his eyes briefly, and finally spoke: "The traitors... have all been executed, Your Highness—"
He looked at the princess, his eyes filled with unwavering determination, everything unspoken. He repeated, "Your Highness, the imperial line has dwindled to such an extent that the country cannot be without a ruler for even a day. I implore Your Highness to take charge of the overall situation."
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