At the moment everything changed, Shen Chen had not failed to consider the possibility that Wen Zhuo had secretly thrown a wrench into the works.
He urgently needed to discuss the matter with Xie Langyang, but how could an outside official enter the palace at a moment’s notice? Xie Langyang was likely still anxiously waiting for news in the Grand Secretariat’s office.
Shen Chen had to seize this fleeting opportunity and make a decision as quickly as possible.
His mind raced through the possibilities. If Wen Zhuo had truly preferred to harm both sides rather than let Shen Ting benefit, and had informed Shen Ting of the truth ahead of time, then today’s spirit-summoning should never have taken place at all.
After all, Shen Ting had been the one to recommend Zhang Deyuan to Emperor Shunyuan. If anything went wrong, he would bear part of the blame.
But if Wen Zhuo was merely standing by coldly, waiting to watch the two sides fight, then this plan was still worth attempting.
Having lived once before, Shen Chen knew that many things had already changed. Perhaps Emperor Shunyuan’s experience upon leaving the palace today had differed from that of his previous life. Perhaps someone had discussed something else with him before the spirit-summoning, altering his state of mind.
Or perhaps the spring plague of rats had simply vanished, sparing the capital from a catastrophe. Emperor Shunyuan’s health might not have deteriorated as quickly as it had in his previous life, and as a result, his emotions had become much calmer.
In short, there were too many factors that could have left his father so even-tempered at this moment. Shen Chen could not rashly conclude that Wen Zhuo had secretly done something.
Just as Zhang Deyuan closed his eyes and “listened” to the shadow’s words, the figure on the canopy slowly raised both arms and made a vague bow in Emperor Shunyuan’s direction.
Shen Chen finally made up his mind.
What responsibility could he possibly bear for exposing Zhang Deyuan’s trick in front of everyone? So long as it brought down Shen Ting, it would all be worth it!
Zhang Deyuan appeared to have truly heard something from the dead. He suddenly opened his eyes, drew a deep breath, and turned to bow deeply toward Emperor Shunyuan.
His long beard drifted in the air, and his eyes even glimmered with tears. His expression was filled with the utmost sincerity. “She entrusted this Zhang to convey these words to Your Majesty: She only wishes for Your Majesty to cherish your health, follow your heart, and from this day onward, enjoy freedom year after year, without fear or worry, blessed with endless fortune and longevity.”
Zhang Deyuan threw himself into the performance. When his voice and expression reached their most impassioned point, he dropped to both knees and repeatedly kowtowed in Emperor Shunyuan’s direction, his voice ringing out, “Your Majesty, long live!”
In his previous life, events had never progressed this far, so Shen Chen did not find anything amiss in Zhang Deyuan’s words or actions.
For a deceased consort to appear and send her husband her blessings was perfectly reasonable.
The only oversight was that Shen Chen had assumed Emperor Shunyuan would become enraged from the very beginning, and thus had not arranged for anyone to expose the trick. Now, he had no choice but to do it himself.
The consorts, palace maids, and eunuchs watching on had no idea what was happening. They took it for a truly miraculous occurrence—the spirit of the dead had appeared to bestow blessings upon the Son of Heaven—so they all followed Zhang Deyuan in bowing and cried out in unison, “Long live Your Majesty! Long live Your Majesty! Long live Your Majesty!”
Though the ritual was somewhat crude and relied entirely on mystery and theatrics, the blessing itself seemed sincere enough. The weariness on Emperor Shunyuan’s face faded somewhat, and he was just about to raise his hand and signal for everyone to rise.
Seeing that his opportunity was about to slip away, Shen Chen grew anxious. He stopped waiting and hurriedly shuffled forward on his knees!
Yet Shen Zheng, beside him, suddenly reached out and grabbed him by the collar. Lowering his voice, he asked with obvious curiosity, “Sixth Brother, where are you scrambling off to in such a hurry?”
To Shen Chen, this was plainly an attempt to stop him.
How could he possibly have time to trade barbs with Shen Zheng now? He immediately gave a violent shake, wrenching free of Shen Zheng’s grip. After shooting him a vicious look with his sharp, spiteful eyes, he hurriedly crawled out from the crowd and fell to his knees before Emperor Shunyuan.
He lifted a face made to look innocent, his cheeks flushed red with pent-up emotion. Righteous indignation filled his voice as he cried, “Father Emperor, wait! This man is deceiving you!”
Those words instantly extinguished the lingering murmur in the imperial garden. Shen Ting’s cold, serpent-like gaze fastened onto him at once, while Emperor Shunyuan slowly turned his head, studying this inconspicuous son by the flickering candlelight.
Shen Chen abruptly pointed at Zhang Deyuan nearby and said indignantly, “Father Emperor, order someone to inspect his toes! Several strands of silkworm thread are wound around them, and those threads run all the way into the canopy, controlling a round piece of glass and a paper cutout! He used this method to manipulate the figure just now, making it appear as though a dead soul had manifested! Your son once heard traveling scholars speak of such tricks at the Eastern Tower. This is the first time I have seen one with my own eyes. I truly cannot bear to see Father Emperor deceived by this charlatan!”
The moment Shen Chen spoke, Zhang Deyuan recognized the voice. It was the very man who had called himself the “Fifth Prince” that day.
A meteoric rise to success had been a lie. A life free from want had been a lie. Offering him up as a sacrifice to frame a brother—that had been the truth!
Cold sweat instantly soaked through Zhang Deyuan’s back, followed by a surge of gnashing hatred that erupted from the depths of his heart.
After years of wandering the jianghu, he had seen every kind of deception and intrigue. Only today did he learn that petty quarrels among commoners were nothing compared with the poison of the imperial court—the most venomous place in the world.
Fortunately, that censor had exposed the trick in time today, sparing him from the catastrophe of deceiving the emperor and losing his head.
He remembered Shen Ting calling that man Director Wen. Could he be Wen Zhuo, Wen Wanshan—the man who had once brought relief to the people of Bozhou?
Zhang Deyuan was also the sort to repay every slight and always keep an escape route in reserve. He hastily bent down and untied the silkworm threads wound around his toes. Then he gave them a tug, pulling the round glass piece and the paper figure out from behind the canopy.
Holding the objects high, his face filled with grievance and panic, he said, “This truly is the humble commoner’s professional craft! In order to control the paper figure with my toes, this humble commoner practiced bitterly for years before daring to present this skill for Your Majesty’s enjoyment! I truly do not understand—how could this possibly be called the crime of deceiving the emperor?”
With the trick exposed on the spot, there was nothing miraculous about it any longer. The onlookers suddenly understood: he was no sorcerer capable of communing with spirits, merely a performer the Third Prince had brought in from outside the palace to amuse the emperor.
When Emperor Shunyuan said nothing and merely fixed his gaze upon him, a flicker of confusion crossed Shen Chen’s face.
Just then, Shen Ting rose to his feet with a smile that did not reach his eyes and walked over at an unhurried pace. Looking down at Shen Chen, who was still kneeling on the ground and wholly absorbed in his performance, he said, “What are you so anxious about, Sixth Brother? Who said the figure on the curtain was a ghost?”
Shen Chen abruptly looked up. The moment their eyes met, fine beads of cold sweat appeared at his temples.
Shen Ting’s calm, composed demeanor made him understand at once: today, he had been utterly defeated.
Emperor Shunyuan’s expression darkened. “Your third brother specially invited someone to perform a magic act for Us. He even went to the trouble of concealing its secrets so that everyone in the harem could enjoy it together. Yet you chose this moment to expose it. What exactly did you expect Us to do?”
Only now did Shen Chen fully understand. This had been a trap laid specifically for him—a scheme that turned his own tactics against him.
Shen Ting had long since told Emperor Shunyuan the truth. He had merely been waiting for Shen Chen to step forward and leave the emperor with the impression that he harbored ulterior motives.
In that case, the small amount of favor he had painstakingly accumulated over the past few months, treading on eggshells all the while, would soon turn into imperial suspicion.
The only person capable of devising such a vicious scheme had to be Wen Zhuo!
“Your son... Your son did not know that Father Emperor was already aware of it, and so foolishly acted on his own...” Shen Chen’s voice trembled with tears. With a wronged expression, he forced out two tears, staggered forward, and clutched Emperor Shunyuan’s leg. Looking up, he pleaded for pity. “Your son was only worried that Father Emperor was being deceived. In a moment of impulsiveness, I revealed how the trick worked. I had no other intentions!”
Emperor Shunyuan remained unmoved.
He had merely realized, all of a sudden, that his sixth son—always cautious and smiling—was not as innocent and harmless as he had believed.
At the special banquet, Shen Chen had publicly provoked others, which had led to Shen Zheng’s match of self-play against Nanping. Had Shen Zheng not possessed such extraordinary talent and won renown in a single battle, Great Qian’s dignity might well have been utterly ruined.
Today, Shen Chen had once again exposed the magician Shen Ting had invited before everyone present. If Shen Ting had not already informed the emperor of the reason, and had instead been merely putting on airs and currying favor with his sovereign, he might have found himself unable to escape punishment today.
It seemed that power truly was tempting enough to make even blood ties so ugly and contemptible.
“Get out.” Emperor Shunyuan’s voice was flat, without the slightest ripple.
His intentions were crooked, but fortunately no great disaster had yet been caused. This disgraceful spectacle of brothers turning against one another was best contained within the inner palace. Otherwise, history might record that his reign had repeated Emperor Zhaoxi’s mistakes, leaving him with the infamy of a court plagued by domestic discord.
Meanwhile, outside the Donghua Gate, Wen Zhuo had come specifically to watch the excitement. At a glance, he saw that Xie Langyang was still arguing heatedly with the Imperial Guards.
One guard had already gone to report the matter and ask the Directorate of Ceremonial whether Minister Xie might be permitted to send a message into the inner palace. The other remained politely persuasive, yet steadfastly refused to let Xie Langyang take even a single step through the palace gates.
A man who was usually the very picture of composure and restraint now looked like a common street brawler in the midst of an argument—his face flushed red, veins standing out on his forehead, every trace of his usual dignity gone.
Wen Zhuo stood to one side and watched for a while. Only after Xie Langyang had no choice but to give up did he stroll over at an unhurried pace, a faint smile on his lips as he mocked him without mercy.
“Minister Xie, don’t you think it’s a little too late to start panicking now?”
Xie Langyang had long since worked himself into a drenched sweat. Now, frantic and red-eyed, he suddenly turned his head—only to meet Wen Zhuo’s calm, unhurried smile. The sight made his heart ache with bitterness.
Wen Zhuo leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice, explaining at leisure, “By now, Shen Chen has surely leaped out and exposed Zhang Deyuan’s trick, just as planned. But what he doesn’t know is that the Emperor was aware from the very beginning that it was merely a trick. From start to finish, Shen Ting never once mentioned to His Majesty that he intended to summon the deceased Consort Chen’s spirit.”
Xie Langyang felt as if he had been struck by lightning. In an instant, everything became clear, and even his voice trembled. “You intended to lure the Sixth Prince into revealing himself and make His Majesty suspicious of him. That way, he’ll no longer be able to secretly win over court officials and expand his influence!”
Wen Zhuo smiled with dazzling charm, his voice clear as a mountain stream, piercing straight into the heart. “That’s not all. I told Shen Ting that whoever was the first to step forward and make trouble tonight would be the one who wanted him dead. What do you think? Having narrowly escaped death, will Shen Ting not come to hate Shen Chen to the bone and wish to be rid of him at the first opportunity? By then, you’ll be so exhausted dealing with Shen Ting’s revenge that you’ll have no energy left to block the Fifth Prince’s path to the throne.”
“Wen Wanshan! This scheme of yours is truly vicious!” Xie Langyang’s arms trembled uncontrollably, his palms clenched so tightly that he could no longer feel them.
Wen Zhuo gave a derisive laugh. “Why am I the vicious one again? Aren’t you always so kindhearted, convinced that Shen Ting and Zhang Deyuan died too cruelly and that their crimes didn’t warrant such a fate? Haven’t you gotten exactly what you wanted in this life?”
“You—” Xie Langyang was rendered speechless. Grief and fury surged from his chest. Pointing at Wen Zhuo, he demanded in anguish, “You’re slaughtering everyone favored by Heaven’s mandate. Aren’t you afraid of being punished by Heaven?”
Wen Zhuo replied somberly, “Lord Xie, you truly have a short memory. Wasn’t I struck down by Heaven’s punishment? Isn’t that why I returned to this moment after being pierced by ten thousand arrows?”
“Then…” The memory of the day of his execution came flooding back, and Xie Langyang could no longer speak with righteous certainty. He could only stand rigidly in place, his eyes bloodshot, as though every ounce of strength had been drained from his body.
Just as Wen Zhuo had said, by the time Xie Langyang sought an audience, it was already too late.
Within the inner court, Shen Chen’s knees ached where the cobblestones had dug into them. With nowhere to vent the indignation filling his chest, he could only hunch his shoulders and trudge toward Donghua Gate in a daze.
He knew perfectly well that Emperor Shunyuan had not forgiven him, much less come to trust him. His Majesty simply did not want the matter to grow any larger and bring disgrace upon the imperial family.
Today, in front of everyone, he had looked like nothing more than a clown. He had truly lost both the lady and the battle. If word of this reached the outer court, Gong Zhiyuan would surely think even less of him.
Lost in his thoughts, Shen Chen had just reached Qianying Gate when a tremendous force suddenly slammed into his lower back. He had no time to react. His entire body lurched forward against his will.
It happened too quickly. The toe of his shoe caught in a crack between the blue bricks, leaving him not even a moment to stumble and break his fall. He crashed heavily onto the cold ground.
“Ah!” he cried out. His teeth struck the ground first, and a piercing pain shot through him. In an instant, his mouth filled with the taste of rust.
Immediately afterward, something shifted around in his mouth, then dropped onto his tongue with a soft click.
He instinctively curled his tongue around it—only to discover, to his horror, that it was his own front tooth!
In his two lifetimes, he had never suffered such a grievous injury, much less such humiliation!
He was the future Emperor Shengde, destined to rule the world as its supreme sovereign!
Shen Chen was consumed by rage. He abruptly hauled himself up from the ground, his eyes bloodshot as he roared, “What kind of vile, despicable scoundrel would dare ambush a prince within the inner court? Come out here and face me!”
He could no longer maintain his usual ingratiating smile. The brutality and ruthlessness he would display after ascending the throne were now written plainly across his face, and the fury in his eyes seemed capable of burning straight through the palace walls.
“I’ll skin you alive and tear out your sinews! Let’s see if you still dare scheme against me!” Limping on one leg, Shen Ting slowly emerged from the shadows, a sinister, ferocious smile spreading across his face.
Before the words had even faded, he swung the cane in his hand and brought it crashing down on Shen Chen’s head.
The moment Shen Chen saw Shen Ting’s savage appearance, his courage faltered. He had no weapon at hand and could only dodge in a panic, yet several blows still landed, making him grit his teeth in pain.
“Third Brother! How dare you attack me in the imperial palace? Have you no sense of propriety? Aren’t you afraid Father will punish you?” Shen Chen dodged frantically, all the while waiting for an opening. When he found one, he struck Shen Ting’s lame leg with all his might.
“I fucking don’t care anymore!” Shen Ting’s furious roar echoed between the palace walls. “I’m not fighting for anything now! A barefoot man has nothing to fear from one wearing shoes! Today, I’m going to beat you, you treacherous bastard, to death!”
Shen Ting had always been volatile, and once his temper flared, he was impossible to restrain. The servants in his residence had long suffered under his hands. Now, he had completely lost all reason and scruples, with only one thought in mind: to kill Shen Chen.
“I’m not dying with you!” Shen Chen gritted his teeth and turned to run.
But in the heat of his fury, Shen Ting somehow found a burst of brute strength. He lunged forward and seized Shen Chen by the back of his robe. With a sharp rip, the garment tore open in a long slash, while Shen Ting’s own fingers were sliced by the edge of the leather belt, blood spilling out at once.
Shen Ting had long since forgotten the pain. The instant Shen Chen’s steps faltered, he hurled himself forward and pinned him hard against the ground. Then he raised his fist and smashed it viciously into Shen Chen’s face, every blow drawing blood as he struck with murderous force.
“You set me up!”
“You fucking dared to set me up!”
“You bastard’s son—you think you’re worthy of coveting the throne? Bah!”
“A bastard will always be a bastard! Did you really think no one knew? How your mother impersonated Noble Consort Liang and sneaked into Father’s bed!”
Shen Chen was quickly beaten black and blue. He could no longer spare a thought for a prince’s dignity and could only fight Shen Ting with every ounce of strength he had.
“Let go! I’m not going crazy with you!”
“Ah—!”
The sounds of the scuffle quickly drew the attention of the eunuchs stationed nearby. Several of them hurried over with lanterns, only to freeze in terror when they realized that the two figures wrestling on the ground were both imperial princes. The lanterns in their hands nearly fell.
“What happened, Your Highnesses? Oh heavens—please, stop!”
Consort Yi had also gone to the Imperial Garden to join in the excitement that day. Shen Chen had been thoroughly humiliated in front of everyone, and she had originally intended to remain at Emperor Shunyuan’s side to put in a few good words for her son. But after she pestered him for only a short while, the emperor impatiently sent her away.
It was Consort Chen’s death anniversary, and he did not want to see any of his consorts.
As a result, Consort Yi arrived a little late. By the time she was being supported by a palace maid around the corner at Qianying Gate, she happened to hear those venomous curses from Shen Ting. At once, it felt as though a thousand knives had stabbed into her heart, leaving her unable even to catch her breath.
Taking a closer look, she saw that Shen Chen had already been beaten into rolling helplessly across the ground. His clothes were torn, his hair had come loose, and his face was smeared with blood beyond recognition.
Consort Yi let out a shriek and stumbled toward him, sobbing, “What happened? Quickly, pull the Third Prince away! Save the Sixth Prince! My son!”
Cries, shouts, and curses blended into one chaotic din as the crowd continued to grow. In the end, it took seven or eight strong eunuchs charging forward together to finally separate the two princes.
Even with several men gripping him tightly by the arms, Shen Ting continued to swing his fists and kick wildly, looking utterly unhinged. He wished he could stretch his arms several yards longer and land two more punches on Shen Chen.
Shen Chen was finally dragged to safety, but his face no longer looked human. Blood streamed from his nose and mouth, both eyes were swollen into enormous lumps, his forehead was mottled with deep purple bruises, and even one of his ears had been torn open.
Trembling, he raised a hand and pointed at Shen Ting. His chest heaved violently as he cried out in anguish, “My teeth! My teeth!”
