"Shadow? That shouldn't be possible!" The mute boy was the number one assassin in the realm. Forget one Feng Ping—even a hundred of them wouldn’t stand a chance against him.
Yan Zheng's eyes flickered with gravity. "The problem is, Shadow wasn’t present when Feng Ping abducted your sister, and he still hasn’t returned."
A sense of foreboding rose in Chu Ruoyan’s heart. Meng Yang entered with a grim expression. "Young Master, there’s still no news... Given Shadow’s skills, no one in the capital could possibly detain him unless..."
Unless he left on his own!
The words went unspoken, but both had already guessed.
After a moment of thought, Yan Zheng shook his head. "No, Shadow would never betray us. He’s most likely run into some trouble. Send more men to search. If we still can’t find him... look into the Xiao Family."
Meng Yang stiffened. "Young Master suspects his mother—" He cut himself short, bowed, and retreated.
Chu Ruoyan asked curiously, "The Xiao Family? You mean Jian'an Count Xiao Haiping’s family?"
Yan Zheng nodded. She pressed further, "What does Shadow have to do with them? I’ve never heard that Uncle Xiao had a son his age!"
Jian'an Count Xiao Haiping was her father’s closest friend. At one point, her father had even considered arranging a match between her and Xiao Yu, the count’s son.
Fortunately, Yan Zheng was unaware of this. He simply replied, "Shadow has no ties to the Xiao Family, but the count’s current wife..."
Chu Ruoyan’s eyes widened in realization. "You mean Madame Mei!"
Madame Mei was a notorious figure in the capital. The younger sister of General Mei Sheng, she had once fled an arranged marriage to elope with a scholar. Five years later, she returned alone and, by sheer luck, caught the eye of Xiao Haiping, who had just lost his wife and was seeking a new one. Thus, she became the illustrious Jian'an Countess.
In contrast, the Mei family’s other daughters suffered for her actions—some married beneath their station to merchants, while others remained unmarried well into their late twenties. This was why Mei Sheng, despite his age, still took his son to the battlefield, hoping to earn more military honors to secure better matches for his daughters.
Chu Ruoyan frowned. "Setting aside Madame Mei’s past, are you suggesting that Shadow is..."
Yan Zheng nodded, his tone tinged with resignation. "Yes. Shadow is her son by that scholar. Because he was born mute, she abandoned him. The scholar refused to take him either and sold him to traffickers. He eventually ended up in the hands of an assassin’s guild... Now that Jian'an Count is in the capital, his wife must have accompanied him to the hunting grounds. I fear..."
"You fear Shadow encountered his birth mother and left because of it?" Chu Ruoyan sighed and took his hand. "Don’t worry. Shadow is a grown man—he knows his limits. Uncle Xiao is reasonable too. This shouldn’t escalate."
Somewhat reassured, Yan Zheng escorted her home before leisurely making his way to the palace.
By then, Prince Qin had already dealt with the situation.
Feng Ping, clutching his severed arm, was dragged away by guards, howling like a madman. "Murong Feng! Your father’s throne was built on my efforts! How dare you revoke my ironclad pardon? The Murong family is faithless—you use people and discard them! Just wait! I’ll watch as the Yun family takes back what’s rightfully theirs! Hahahaha—"
His laughter was ghastly. The emperor, enraged, slammed the table. "Drag him to the execution ground and slice him apart! Three thousand one hundred cuts—not one less!"
Yan Zheng’s brow furrowed slightly. A quick-witted official whispered, "Rest assured, Chief Minister. The northern garrison’s command has already been stripped from General Feng. The tiger tally is now in Prince Qin’s hands..."
Meaning Feng Ping’s execution wouldn’t affect the northern front.
Yan Zheng understood—the northern campaign would likely be entrusted to Prince Qin.
Suddenly, the emperor hurled an inkstone in fury. "Guards! Exterminate Feng Ping’s three generations—no, nine generations! I refuse to believe the empire hinges on one mere general!"
At this, Yan Zheng’s expression darkened. Murong Jin stepped forward. "Brother, calm yourself! Feng Ping and Feng Shuo deserve death, but Feng Huan and his daughter knew nothing of their crimes. Please spare them in recognition of Feng Huan’s decades defending the north!"
The emperor glared at him mockingly. "Oh? Now you’re pleading for your childhood sweetheart? Ninth Brother, I truly don’t understand. Didn’t you fancy the second daughter of Duke Chu? Why beg for Feng Ying’s life? Or have you forgotten she’s already married?"
Then it struck him—Feng Ying was wed to the Yan family’s second branch, Yan Zheng’s cousins.
His bloodlust wavered, but his anger remained.
Unexpectedly, Prince Qin knelt. "Brother, my plea isn’t personal. I only wish to preserve a capable general for Great Xia. As for my own affairs..." He smiled bitterly. "To be frank, Miss Chu the Second is also getting married."
The emperor gaped. "So soon? Did you discuss this with Mother?"
He assumed Murong Jin was the groom. Instead, Murong Jin lowered his head. "There’s no need to trouble Her Majesty. She’s marrying her cousin. I only ask for Your Majesty’s grace to let me acknowledge her as a sister and escort her to the wedding... as half a brother would."
The emperor stared. Feng Ping’s family was momentarily forgotten. "Ninth Brother, think carefully. Once my decree is issued, there’s no turning back!"
Murong Jin gazed at the polished marble floor, remembering another time—right here—when she had begged him, over and over, to take her as his wife and forsake Feng Ying...
How many chances had she given him? And how had he responded?
"I’ve already wronged Feng Ying... I can’t betray her..."
Now, he wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. But no laughter came—only bitterness. "I’ve been a fool for years. Never have I been clearer. Please... grant me this."
With those final words, he kowtowed deeply.
The emperor hesitated, glancing at Chu Huaishan. The old fox had already bowed, feigning deference.
He turned to Yan Zheng, but even his ever-reliable chief minister merely clasped his hands, leaving the decision to the throne.
With a sigh, the emperor relented. "Ninth Brother, it’s not that I oppose you. But you’re twenty-six. If you don’t settle down soon, even Mother won’t tolerate..."
"Brother!" Murong Jin interrupted. "Let me lead the northern campaign and defend Great Xia’s borders. If I return alive, I’ll wed whomever Mother chooses!"
The emperor was taken aback. Yan Zheng spoke up. "Your Majesty, since Prince Qin volunteers, I urge you to consent."
The other ministers echoed, "We concur!"
After a pause, the emperor waved a hand. "Fine. If your mind’s made up, I’ll decree that you may escort Miss Chu the Second as her half-brother. Once done, depart for the north at once!"
Murong Jin pressed his forehead to the floor. "This subject thanks Your Majesty!"
