Deep in the mire, Anyang lost its bearings; over morning meals in Yi Prefecture, laughter flowed
Wei Yong stepped forward half a step, clasped his hands in a fist and bowed.
His voice wasn't loud, but it carried steadily into everyone's ears.
"This humble general is not disobeying orders."
"Anyone who leaves the area more than 100 li before the Ministry of War's order arrives and the governor's office's gates are activated will be executed immediately according to the law."
"The heavy armor and crossbows in the armory have also been sealed up by the governor's office."
Wei Yong paused.
"The soldiers' land, parents, wives, and children are all in Anyang. Without an imperial decree, no one dares to leave the camp."
Gu Mochen's face flushed red as he drew his sword and charged down the wooden steps.
The sword tip stopped three inches in front of Wei Yong's throat.
His wrist trembled violently, and the blade of the sword trembled along with it.
" Wei Yong, are you using the Ministry of War to pressure me?"
" Anyang belongs to Great Yan, but even more Anyang to Anyang!"
Wei Yong did not retreat.
His Adam's apple bobbed slightly, but he maintained the clasped-fist posture.
Behind Wei Yong, two hundred personal guards simultaneously raised their left-arm round shields.
His right foot slammed heavily into the mud.
Two hundred heavy iron shields collided, rolling across the training ground with a dull thud.
Mud splashed onto Gu Mochen's python robe.
His legs went weak, and he stumbled back two steps, stepping right into a deep, puddled pit.
Black mud trickled down the hem of his robe.
Wei Yong kept his head down, his manners impeccable.
But the shields had already formed an iron wall, blocking Gu Mochen's way.
"Your Highness is unwell; please return to your residence to rest."
Wei Yong's voice pierced through the cold wind.
Take care of your precious health; the future is long.
Gu Mochen stared intently at the shield wall, his jaw grinding until it ached.
The three thousand men before us are just a small part of the Northern Camp.
However, Wei Yong refused the sword under military law, and the armory was sealed off. The other battalions probably had already chosen to wait and see.
How dare the 30,000 soldiers of Anyang not be under his command?
In the warm pavilion of the Prince An's Residence's backyard, the silver charcoal burned bright red.
The warmth kept out the cold wind outside, and the window paper was baked until it turned slightly yellow.
Prince An's Consort Lady Lü of An leaned back on the snow-white fox fur couch, her fingers casually flipping through three thick account books.
Her eyes and brows still held the aloofness of a noblewoman from a prominent family.
Kneeling below was a clerk with a goatee.
He placed the last stack of banknotes into the sandalwood box with utmost gentleness.
"Your Highness, the charitable donations raised by the thirty-seven prominent families in the city have all been exchanged for banknotes issued by Fengtai Bank in Zhang Prefecture, which are redeemable on demand."
"In addition, there are three hundred pieces of red gold leaf, all of which, as you instructed, were transported out of the North Gate with the Second Master's private tea caravan."
The moment the accounting office locked itself with the brass lock, the curtain was lifted.
A cold draft blew into the warm room, and the charcoal fire flickered.
Zhou Huaili, wrapped in a soaked gray robe, stepped across the threshold.
His hair was disheveled, and his eyes were sunken, clearly indicating that he hadn't slept all night.
He first noticed the sandalwood box, then the still-wet ink on the account book, and his breathing became heavier.
What is Your Highness doing?
Zhou Huaili pointed at the wooden box, his voice tense.
"The prince is furious about the military rations at the Northern Camp; grain prices throughout the city have tripled."
"The number of refugees outside the city is increasing, and the silver raised by the merchants' association should have been used to stabilize grain prices."
"But you want to take it back to your parents' home?"
Lady Lü did not raise her eyes.
She picked up the warm bird's nest cup and slowly stirred it with a porcelain spoon.
"You have such a bad temper."
She took a sip, her tone calm.
"The prince has taken medicine from a sorcerer from overseas, and is no longer in his right mind."
"Improperly sealing off a city or forcibly requisitioning military rations—which of these isn't a crime punishable by death?"
Lady Lü put down the bird's nest soup cup and looked up at Zhou Huaili.
"He wants to die, but I am pregnant and do not wish to die with him."
Zhou Huaili took a step forward.
"If the prince falls, how can the Lü Family remain unscathed in the court?"
When the nest is overturned, how can the eggs remain intact?
" The Lü Family is the Lü Family, and the prince is the prince."
Lady Lü's eyes were cold and clear.
"My father was the Minister of Ministry of Personnel, and his students and former subordinates were all over the court and the country."
"As long as the child in my womb is safely delivered, the Lü Family will naturally ask the Empress Dowager to preserve the title of Heir Apparent."
"As for whether Anyang City will fall, or whether the Prince will go mad, what does it have to do with the Lü Family?"
She leaned forward slightly and lowered her voice.
" Master Zhou, your elderly mother, wife, and children, do they live in the east of the city now?"
"When the imperial army presses in, or when refugees outside the city breach the walls, who do you think can protect them?"
Zhou Huaili felt a dryness in his throat.
The hand hidden in the sleeve slowly clenched, the nails piercing the palm.
The charcoal fire burned brightly in the warm room, yet cold sweat beaded on his back.
His gaze lingered on the sandalwood box for a long time.
After a long pause, he whispered, "Your Highness... please take care of yourself and protect the baby."
He bowed in greeting, then turned and walked out.
As Zhou Huaili passed by the accountant, he caught a glimpse of the key tag on the other man's waist.
That glance was swift, utterly devoid of warmth.
In the back alley of the inn, snowmelt mixed with dark red blood slowly seeped out along the cracks in the bluestone slabs.
The bodies of ten guards from the Prince An's Residence lay scattered haphazardly in the muddy water.
Everyone has a very thin, cross-shaped scar on their throat.
The edges of the wound were white, clearly indicating that he didn't even have time to scream.
Under the eaves on the second floor of the inn, Inukami Jusaburo sat by the railing, wiping the short sword in his hand with a white silk cloth.
The short sword was of Japanese style, its blade gleaming with a deep blue hue in the morning light.
The white silk brushed against the blade, quickly leaving a dark line.
Park Roejang climbed the wet wooden stairs.
He tossed the black iron token he had taken from the leader of the assassins around, a cold smile playing on his lips.
"That pretentious scholar Zhou Huaili actually tried to kill us to silence us."
He spoke in a low voice in Silla.
"The bunch of useless trash that Gu Mochen raised didn't even draw their knives."
Inukami Jusaburo sheathed his sword.
With a click, the corridor became even quieter.
Park Roejang put the token into his pocket.
"Where do we go now?"
Inukami Jusaburo looked up towards the direction of Prince An's Residence.
"Go find Prince An."
"He took three Bliss Elixir; without us, he won't last more than a few days."
A thousand miles away, in the former royal palace of Yi Prefecture.
Steam rose from the wooden steamer in the large kitchen, filling the courtyard with the aroma of flour and oil.
On the table were freshly made sugar-coated fried dough sticks, mutton soup pancakes, and a refreshing soft cake made by Shen Ling'er with Rhodiola rosea and Poria cocos.
"This is mine!"
Yun Shuyue's wrists were so sore she could barely use them, and her snowman-shaped plush hat was askew on her ears.
She sniffed and struggled to reach the last piece of fried cake on the plate with a wooden spoon.
Smack
A pair of bamboo chopsticks held the fried cake in mid-air.
Meng Jiuning had dark circles under her eyes. She rubbed her swollen and sore eyes and pulled the fried cake into her bowl.
"Sister Yue'er, you must have a conscience."
"If you hadn't been so easily frightened last night and given yourself away, would I, the princess, have had to spend the entire night examining eight hundred pages of secrets?"
"My fingers are almost cramping, this piece is for me to replenish my energy."
"The powder you gave me is clearly the problem!"
Yun Shuyue puffed out her cheeks and reached out to grab it.
As soon as I lifted my wrist, I felt a sharp pain, and the wooden spoon almost fell into the soup bowl.
In the main seat, Gu Moran leaned back in the armchair covered with thick velvet, slowly sipping her cooling herbal tea.
Su Yao used one hand to operate the abacus and the other hand to press down on the draft of the Dali customs tax calculation.
Xie Wanqing held a teacup and smiled softly beside her.
Murong Xue sat on a bench, one leg on the edge, peeling eggs while tapping the table.
" Princess Meng, I think 800 pages is still too few."
"You still dare to drug me? Even if I offered you two copper mines to pay for my meal, it wouldn't be enough."
[Thanks to: the expert certification and update reminder for the slide tackle, 1092 milk tea, 1051, the likes from the food lover, the love letter from the seafood, the flowers from ohoh, and everyone else for their love and support! I'm owing more and more (๑•.•๑)]