Wang An scrambled out of the hall, his back already drenched in cold sweat. He knew that after tonight, the Capital would know no peace. And he himself had already set one foot inside the gates of hell.
Zhao Heng picked up the sword he had drawn halfway and slowly slid it back into its sheath. The blade scraped against the scabbard with a soft shing, like the final growl of a beast returning to its cage.
He walked to the window and gazed out at the deep darkness of night.
You old relics think you can keep me trapped like this? Just wait. Once I've secured provisions and resolved the crisis on the northern frontier, let's see how Father can keep favoring you! Then I'll settle accounts with every last one of you! And you, Uncle Prince Yan—don't think I don't know you're plotting behind my back! I've had my eye on your old subordinates for a long time! As soon as I'm free to act, you'll be the first one I deal with!
This realm will be mine sooner or later!
＊＊＊
In stark contrast to the oppressive tension in the imperial palace and the Eastern Palace, a secluded residence in the southwestern corner of the Capital presented an entirely different scene.
There were no precious flowers or plants in the courtyard, only a lush grapevine, beneath which stood a stone table and two stone stools.
A young man dressed in plain blue robes sat alone beside the stone table, holding a black stone as he studied an unfinished game of Go.
He was Gu Shen.
His looks were unremarkable, the sort that would disappear in a crowd. But his eyes were astonishingly bright, as if they could see right through people and understand the ways of