Chrysanthemums and Bloodstained Blade
It's that time of year again when hundreds of potted chrysanthemums of various varieties are vying for beauty in the Imperial Garden, the air is filled with the fragrance of osmanthus, and the gentle breeze is intoxicating.
This chrysanthemum appreciation banquet was held around the largest pavilion in the Imperial Garden, "Chengrui Pavilion".
The melodious sounds of string and wind instruments filled the air as officials sat in order of rank, exchanging toasts and laughter, creating a scene of peace and prosperity.
In the Imperial Garden, the autumn sun shone brightly, but it had lost some of its intense heat.
Their futile attempts to add warmth to the person on the throne were thwarted by the dazzling yet chilling radiance emanating from him.
Today, Wei Jin did not wear elaborate court attire, but only a dark crimson casual robe with dark gold dragon patterns. The collar was slightly loose, revealing a section of his pale and slender collarbone. His black hair was like satin, loosely tied with a long jade hairpin, with a few unruly strands falling beside his temples, which made his face look like jade, and his eyebrows and eyes were so beautiful that they were almost otherworldly.
Those peach blossom eyes, with their slightly upturned corners, should have been brimming with endless charm, but now, due to recent heartache and weariness, they were weighed down by an unyielding gloom, like the misty vapor emanating from the most precious glass vessel, broken yet captivating.
His pale face did not appear weak; rather, it resembled a red plum blossom in the snow—a striking beauty tinged with decadence. His fingertips casually twirled a golden chrysanthemum, his lips were pale, and he occasionally coughed softly. His eyelashes trembled and drooped, revealing within that flamboyant beauty a profound loneliness and vulnerability that beckoned exploration and even a desire for comfort.
This sight was observed by the young women awaiting selection, who were being led by their matrons and secretly watching the palace banquet from a distance.
The sight of him made their hearts flutter, and they almost held their breath. They knew that entering the palace was related to their family's honor and their future, but at this moment, looking at that young emperor who was so powerful yet breathtakingly beautiful, so aggressive yet fragile, their utilitarian mind was involuntarily disturbed, and they felt a real thrill and longing, like moths drawn to a flame.
Even if it scorches my wings, I would gladly accept even a moment's gaze from you.
Only Ling Zhan, sitting beside him, could see into the depths of his seemingly languid and dreamy eyes the icy and sharp scrutinizing light that never faded, like a beautiful poisonous flower, silently measuring everyone's loyalty and betrayal.
This poignant melancholy is nothing more than a deeper yearning for complete autonomy.
As the emperor's close commander, Ling Feng stood with his hand on his sword not far from the emperor and empress's seats, his posture as sturdy as a pine tree.
As the eldest son, Shen Xiao was also specially summoned from the camp outside the capital to the palace for a banquet. He sat in the middle of the military officers' seats, chatting and laughing with several old generals, but his eyes were as sharp as an eagle's.
After several rounds of drinks, the atmosphere was at its most lively.
An official dressed in the robes of a sixth-rank official, in charge of the garden, attended the event.
He nervously rubbed his hands, drawing the attention of the Emperor, Empress, and everyone else to a pot of chrysanthemums placed alone on a high rosewood table. The flowers were a deep, dark purple, almost black in the autumn sun, yet their petals strangely possessed a velvety sheen, making them appear profound and mysterious.
The official's voice trembled slightly with excitement, yet he tried his best to speak clearly before the emperor.
"Your Majesty, Your Majesty, this is the 'Mysterious Night Flowing Light' chrysanthemum, which the gardeners have cultivated with five years of painstaking effort... Its color is like ink solidified at midnight, and its petals are like dark brocade shining brightly. It cannot be grown if the watering or the light is even slightly off... There is indeed only one of its kind in the whole world. Today, I specially present it to Your Majesty and Your Majesty for your appreciation..."
He spoke with such focus that he even subconsciously leaned forward slightly, as if trying to shield the delicate flower from a non-existent breeze with his own body. Everyone's attention, including Wei Jin's somewhat languidly scrutinizing gaze, was briefly drawn to the unique black chrysanthemum.
Just as all attention was focused on that dazzling cluster of deep purple and almost inky black—
An unexpected change occurred!
A sudden splash came from the direction of Taiye Pond. It wasn't loud, but it pierced the harmonious music.
Almost simultaneously, behind the official introducing the black chrysanthemum, behind a dense clump of hibiscus planted as a background, the soil suddenly exploded!
The guards who were previously responsible for inspecting this area have been silently taken down.
Not one, but several dark figures, like startled venomous snakes, shot out with resolute killing intent, heading straight for the throne!
Their movements were so fast and hasty that they even knocked over several pots of precious chrysanthemums nearby. The valuable petals were scattered and broken in the fierce wind, as if silently accusing this sudden violence.
It's clear that they didn't choose this time; rather, they had reached the limit of their concealment and had no choice but to act!
That splashing sound might have been their agreed-upon signal to attack, or it might have been an accidental exposure. But at this moment, the killing intent was like an arrow released from a bow, with no turning back!
"Protect the Emperor!"
With a roar, Ling Feng drew his longsword instantly, transforming it into a silver streak as he met the first two assassins who rushed at him, using his body to shield the Empress.
"Clang!"
The jarring sound of metal clashing shattered the peaceful atmosphere.
The screams of the women, the exclamations of the officials, and the shattering of cups and plates instantly replaced the previous laughter and cheers.
The Imperial Guards quickly formed a battle formation and advanced, but these assassins were extremely skilled in martial arts, especially the two leaders, whose movements were elusive and whose palm strikes were fierce. Ordinary guards could not even get close to them; if they touched them, they would either die or be seriously injured! The Imperial Garden was immediately thrown into chaos.
Shen Xiao had already kicked over the table, snatched the sword from a terrified guard, and, together with Ling Feng on either side, stood guard in front of the imperial desk, fighting against the two strongest assassins.
Swords flashed and energy surged.
Ling Feng's swordsmanship was cunning and ruthless, while Chen Xiao's saber techniques were expansive and powerful; both were top masters among the younger generation. However, the assassins' martial arts style was extremely unpredictable, their internal energy chilling, and their numbers had suddenly increased, allowing them to fight to a standstill, and even gain a slight advantage!
An assassin saw an opening and forced Shen Xiao back half a step with a palm strike.
His other hand, like a venomous snake emerging from its hole, grabbed straight at Wei Jin's face!
The black aura swirling around his fingertips carried a toxic odor that sent chills down one's spine.
Wei Jin's expression suddenly darkened, and his lazy and nonchalant demeanor vanished instantly.
Like a beast that had been dozing suddenly opening its sharp eyes, his knuckles tightened, and he instinctively rose to meet the attack—
However, he abruptly stopped just before he was about to get up.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the figure in a sandalwood color beside him, still sitting as still as a mountain, not even his breathing disturbed.
Thus, the impending thunderous force was slowly suppressed by him with an incredible degree of control. He didn't even stand up completely; he merely adjusted his sitting posture to make it easier to exert force. The shock and anger in his bewitching peach blossom eyes flashed by, replaced by an extremely cold and almost cruel composure.
He just sat there, watching the deadly attack hurtling towards him.
It was as if it wasn't a deadly claw, but just an insignificant fallen leaf.
This absolute calm, almost indifferent to life and death, displayed amidst the thunderous storm, was more impactful than any roar or panic, instantly piercing the eyes of all the officials who were anxiously looking over. Several senior officials who were nearby were so frightened that they almost held their breath, while many more astute nobles, such as Huo Ying, felt their pupils shrink as their hearts pounded!
They suddenly realized with absolute clarity that the composure of the emperor before them did not stem from the upbringing within the high walls of the palace, but rather from the courage and resolve truly forged amidst mountains of corpses and seas of blood, and countless brushes with death.
He trusted the woman beside him's abilities, and even more so, he trusted his own ability to control the overall situation.
This composure under pressure sent a chill down their spines, a chilling aura of involuntary reverence and submission to an absolute powerhouse. This was unlike any noble son they had ever encountered in the capital, or even any prince from the previous emperor's reign.
Just as the poisoned arrow was about to strike.
Ling Zhan, who had been sitting still, moved.
There were no gasps, no dramatic movements. Everyone only saw a blur before their eyes, and the agarwood-colored figure had already glided to Wei Jin's side like a flowing cloud.
No one saw how she moved; they only heard—
"Snap!"
A crisp, teeth-grinding cracking sound rang out.
Then came a muffled "bang".
The top assassin, whose attacks were fierce, had his wrist broken at an unnatural angle. As if struck in the chest by an invisible giant hammer, he was sent flying backward, crashing into a pot of blooming "Phoenix Spreading its Feathers" flowers. He coughed up a mouthful of blood and collapsed to the ground.
Ling Zhan's skillful strike dispersed the poisonous mist he had forced out with his internal energy, but instead, he inhaled it all into his lungs, and could no longer get up.
The entire fight scene froze for an extremely brief moment.
Ling Zhan didn't even look into the eyes of the second assassin she had instantly crippled.
She turned to the side, casually flicking her sleeve with her other hand.
The other top assassins, who were locked in combat with Ling Feng, felt an overwhelming, gentle force crashing into them. All their exquisite techniques became a joke in the face of this absolute power disparity. They lost control of their poisoned short blades, which flew out of their hands and pierced into the pavilion pillars with several sharp "thuds," penetrating deep into the wood.
The group stumbled back seven or eight steps at the same time, their blood surging, their eyes filled with horror.
Ling Feng and Shen Xiao would never miss such an opportunity.
The two moved swiftly, their swords flashing like shadows, instantly piercing the Jianjing and Huantiao acupoints, completely subduing the group of assassins.
The leader was dealt with instantly, and the remaining assassins were quickly either killed or captured by the Imperial Guards who had reacted.
From the start of the attack to its end, it lasted only a dozen or so breaths.
Ling Zhan stood still, his clothes not even slightly disheveled.
Only a few drops of the assassin's blood stained the cuffs, like red plum blossoms blooming on the snow, glaring and eerie.
She frowned slightly, seemingly disliking the bloodstains.
Behind her, Wei Jin's shoulders, which had been taut like a bowstring, relaxed almost imperceptibly, and he slowly exhaled the breath that had been lingering in his chest. His gaze first fell on Ling Zhan's straight back, the figure that always shielded him from all storms, as reassuring as ever, yet also... bittersweet.
His gaze then shifted downwards, settling on the striking scarlet marks on her sandalwood-colored cuffs.
The blood stung his eyes.
An extremely complex emotion surged in his eyes—a sense of relief that the crisis had been averted, an absolute reliance on her powerful martial arts and decisive methods, but deeper still, an indescribable sadness and pain.
This blood was stained for him.
Every single time, it's the same.
His safety as the supreme ruler and the stability of the empire ultimately rested on her alone. What he longed for was to stand shoulder to shoulder with her, or to protect her under his wings, rather than watching her fight for him time and time again, getting stained with blood.
This realization filled him with more powerlessness and shame than any assassin's blade. The gloom in his eyes seemed to deepen as a result, and a fleeting, almost painful trace crossed his alluring face, too quick to be detected, before being suppressed again, replaced by the cold composure of a king.
The entire Imperial Garden was deathly silent.
Everyone was stunned by this lightning-fast reversal, and even more so by the Empress's unfathomable and thunderous martial prowess.
The officials looked at Ling Zhan with unprecedented fear and awe.
Ling Feng and Shen Xiao simultaneously stopped their movements, quickly stepped forward, knelt on one knee, and spoke with absolute respect and a hint of apology.
"We, your humble servants, failed in our duty of protection and disturbed Your Majesty and Your Majesty's presence! We beg Your Majesty and Your Majesty to punish us!"
They were clearly apologizing to two people, but the first person they looked at was Ling Zhan.
Wei Jin watched Ling Zhan's retreating figure, his eyes filled with complex emotions—reliance, relief, and a hint of barely perceptible sadness—which ultimately transformed into imperial majesty: "Rise. This is not your fault. Investigate this matter thoroughly!"
"Yes!" Ling Feng and Shen Xiao then stood up.
He immediately directed people to clean up the scene and escort the prisoner away. His actions were swift and efficient, clearly showing that he was completely under the command of the Emperor and Empress, especially... the Empress.
In the chaos, Madam Huo, still shaken, clutched her chest and whispered to Su Wan beside her, "Heavens... Her Majesty the Empress... she actually has such skill? It's simply... simply..."
Su Wan was slowly wiping the wine that had accidentally splashed on her hands with a handkerchief when she heard this. She looked up and glanced at Ling Zhan, who was whispering instructions to Ling Feng in the distance. Her tone was nonchalant and casual, with even a hint of lazy laughter:
"What's so strange about this? Hasn't it always been like this? Your Majesty's kung fu was also very good in his early years. Wasn't he often beaten by the empress to the point where he couldn't get out of bed for several days? But unfortunately, your Majesty still did this, and he was very happy."
Her voice wasn't loud, but amidst the deathly silence and whispers around her, it clearly reached Huo Ying's ears, who was not far away.
Huo Ying was holding a wine glass, her fingers stiff, her eyes fixed on Ling Zhan.
Su Wan's words were like a cold key, instantly unlocking all the doubts and fears in his heart!
Is it going to stay like this?
Beaten so badly he can't get out of bed?
Is His Majesty truly willing to submit?
All the clues came together at this moment: Ling Zhan's terrifying martial prowess, the subconscious absolute obedience of Ling Feng, Chen Xiao, and others to her, and the emperor's obvious dependence on and indulgence towards her...
Huo Ying's hand trembled violently, spilling the remaining wine from his cup and soaking his luxurious robe sleeves.
He always focused his attention on the emperor, thinking about how to overthrow imperial power and how to restrain the emperor.
That's wrong.
All wrong.
The real threat was never the man on the dragon throne. It was the woman standing beside him, the one who could easily decide the emperor's life and death and command the loyalty of his sharpest blades.
Ling Zhan.
For the first time, Huo Ying's eyes revealed the deepest fear and murderous intent towards a person.
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