This was the first time Yun Yin had called Li Zhaoyi by his full name.
Li Zhaoyi had once assumed Yun Yin didn’t even know his name. After all, no one would dare speak the Emperor’s personal name aloud.
His name had been gifted by the Empress.
As an Imperial Prince, he needed a proper name eventually, but the Empress had clearly put no thought into it whatsoever. A single Ripple Dance had cost Consort Xu a lifetime of regret, and it became Li Zhaoyi’s name in turn. Li Zhaoyi always felt that perhaps the Empress had chosen it precisely as a form of mockery.
As Yun Yin’s words settled, a sliver of clarity finally returned to Li Zhaoyi’s mind.
His first instinct was to nod in agreement.
Then, remembering something, he pressed his lips together tightly. He shook his head instead.
He said, “One… one part of it.”
Saving Lu Zhong—that was one part of the reason.
Yun Yin watched him, a turbulent emotion flickering deep within his eyes.
Li Zhaoyi was panting softly. Despite his frail and sickly constitution, his lips were a vivid, dewy red, the color of the most dazzling flower in spring. He had looked just like this when he’d returned—silhouetted against the morning sun, alone and fragile, yet carrying an air of boundless courage.
Yun Yin’s gaze deepened, and he released Li Zhaoyi.
Li Zhaoyi: ???
Caught off guard by the sudden release, he nearly stumbled, bracing himself against the door behind him to regain his balance.
He straightened up, looking at Yun Yin in bewilderment.
Just as he was about to speak, he was cut off.
“Stay here,” Yun Yin said flatly.
He still had many things to attend to.
But that didn’t mean Li Zhaoyi’s matter was unimportant. On the contrary, it was precisely because it was the most important thing he had to deal with that he needed to set it aside temporarily, preventing other trivialities from disturbing his thoughts.
With that, he left.
Behind him, Li Zhaoyi stared blankly at his retreating figure.
After a long moment, he turned to a nearby mirror and, with a dazed expression, touched his lips, which were already swollen and red from being kissed.
–
When Yun Yin entered the hall, he shut the door behind him. Mu Ke could only wait anxiously outside.
The sounds filtering through the door made his heart race with unease. He was hesitating, wondering if he should go in to mediate, when the door swung open.
Yun Yin stepped out, his clothes perfectly neat. Aside from a slightly disheveled collar, he looked entirely proper.
…What Mu Ke meant was, it hadn’t been as violent as he’d imagined.
Swallowing hard, he was about to offer some words of advice when Yun Yin said, “Have the Imperial Kitchens send breakfast over. Nothing too greasy. Prepare some of His Majesty’s usual favorites.”
Mu Ke paused, stunned.
He quickly recovered and bowed hastily in acknowledgment.
After dispatching someone with the order, he fell in behind Yun Yin. By now, calm had been restored to the Capital.
For most people, truth be told, the previous night had been a sleepless one. Signs of Changping’s impending move had existed for some time. It wasn’t that no one in the court had caught wind of it, but the struggle for imperial power implicated too many, and few dared to openly choose sides.
By daybreak, word from their spies within the Imperial Palace had settled the dust.
The Princess’s Manor was, of course, surrounded. Along with the princess herself, the entire Wei Clan were thrown into prison. The charge was naturally treason. Once that accusation was leveled, there was no room left for maneuvering.
This time, even Lin Ping said nothing.
Everything proceeded in absolute silence. By early afternoon, the steps before Bright Clarity Hall were spotless once more. The faint, lingering scent of blood was gradually dispersed by the wind.
It was at this moment that Mu Ke came to report: “My Prince, Director Lu has been found.”
He then leaned in and whispered a few words into Yun Yin’s ear.
Yun Yin’s hand paused.
“Understood,” he said.
Reading his expression, Mu Ke asked cautiously, “…Should we have the Punishment Hall interrogate him?”
The Punishment Hall was the Yun Clan’s own institution. There was a saying within their ranks—once you entered the Punishment Hall, you generally went in vertically and came out horizontally.
Yun Yin said nothing.
After a moment, he replied, “Tell him to come see me directly. Hall of Civil Governance.”
Mu Ke’s clenched fist relaxed. He exhaled imperceptibly and acknowledged the order.
~
When Lu Zhong heard Mu Ke’s words, disbelief flickered in his eyes.
He repeated quietly, “His Highness said… I am to meet him at the Hall of Civil Governance?”
Mu Ke didn’t dare to elaborate, simply confirming, “Yes.”
He paused, then couldn’t help but lower his voice further. “Director Lu, you’ve got far too much nerve. That was His Majesty! Did you even consider the consequences of taking His Majesty out of the palace, regardless of whether it succeeded? His Majesty is of the most exalted status!”
Lu Zhong replied flatly, “I was long prepared for death.”
His life belonged to Xu Yingcai. Delivering Li Zhaoyi out of the palace and confirming his safety—that was his mission, and its completion.
Mu Ke was rendered speechless.
Lu Zhong, however, was surprised by his attitude. “I attacked you. You’re not angry?”
In daily life, he’d always found Mu Ke far too flighty. But since Yun Yin trusted him, Lu Zhong never commented.
Mu Ke: “…”
He twitched his mouth. What use was being angry?
The man before him didn’t even value his own life—a complete madman. Who bothered holding a grudge against a madman?
“You’d better worry about yourself first,” he said irritably.
With that, he said nothing more.
The two arrived at the Hall of Civil Governance. Entering, Mu Ke departed, and Lu Zhong knelt down cleanly and efficiently. “My Lord.”
He heard no response.
Startled, he looked up and saw Yun Yin’s face in profile.
Yun Yin was leafing through a letter in his hands, marked with the Yun Clan’s unique wax seal—an internal, classified Secret Report.
He read the report from beginning to end. Only then, as though finally registering Lu Zhong’s presence, did he lift his head. “You’ve returned.”
His reaction was unnervingly calm—like countless other times Lu Zhong had returned from a mission to deliver his report.
Suspicion and bewilderment stirred in Lu Zhong’s heart. He couldn’t fathom where the plan had gone wrong.
He had meticulously planned Li Zhaoyi’s escape for a long time. Yun Yin’s elevation of Li Zhaoyi to the throne had thrown an unexpected wrench into things, but aside from that, every escape route simulated, every agent employed, had been tested again and again. Trapped in the Imperial Palace for eighteen years, Li Zhaoyi had truly wanted to leave. And Lu Zhong had truly wanted to send him.
Yet now, he hadn’t received the expected feedback. There was no feedback, nor any signal that the mission had failed. Everything was shrouded in fog. Countless possibilities raced through Lu Zhong’s mind.
Just as his thoughts were churning, Yun Yin’s voice suddenly reached his ears.
He said softly, “Uncle Lu.”
Lu Zhong’s heart jolted violently. His fists clenched tight.
–
In the chamber’s heavy silence, Yun Yin rested his forehead on his hand and smiled faintly. “It’s been a long time since I called you that.”
“To be honest, to elders like you,” he said, “as a junior, I should show respect. But without rules, there can be no order. In this position, one is rarely free to act as one wishes. Sometimes, I find it all terribly dull.”
Lu Zhong’s throat was dry. “Your Highness is too kind.”
He didn’t understand why Yun Yin was suddenly addressing him this way. It was, in fact, what Yun Yin had called him when Lu Zhong had first aligned himself with the Yun Clan and entered the Shadow Guard System.
Lu Zhong was over a decade older than Yun Yin. He’d called him Uncle Lu.
Back then, Yun Yin hadn’t yet been the Regent wielding absolute power. He’d been a spirited, ambitious young Heir, receiving the Shadow Guard System—the clan’s sharpest blade—from his father, and he’d treated Shadow Guards like them with courtesy and respect.
Lu Zhong…
He knew he shouldn’t let his emotions run too deep, but he couldn’t help his heart softening. In the end, Yun Yin wasn’t that much older than Li Zhaoyi.
And afterward?
Afterward, he watched Yun Yin walk step by step into the vortex of power. Watched him walk alongside Li Zhaoyu, climbing over piles of white bones to seize that throne. Watched him day by day grow to hide his emotions, revealing neither joy nor anger. Watched him…
The night at Hidden Dragon Hall, Li Zhaoyu perished in a sea of flames. When Lu Zhong heard the news, his first thought wasn’t of the fall of the Li Dynasty. It was that this fire would likely burn within Yun Yin’s heart for the rest of his life.
At that time, hadn’t he felt a pang of heartache? He viewed this person as a junior, after all.
Nor was he unaware that Li Zhaoyi’s departure would bring trouble upon Yun Yin. But his strength was ultimately limited; he could only protect the one person he most wanted to protect. Moreover, in his private heart, he truly believed that if Yun Yin ascended to that position, it would be a blessing for all people.
…So what harm was there in giving him a push?
But now, at this moment, he understood. All of that was merely his own wishful thinking, designed to ease his guilt.
He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. “Your Highness. Kill me or flay me—I accept whatever punishment you decree.”
“…But I cannot tell you His Majesty’s whereabouts.”
“You knew him long ago.”
“Yes.”
“What is your relationship?”
“…”
“Master and disciple. He called me Master.”
“Why did you take him away?”
“…Your Highness, not everyone wants to be Emperor. His Little Highness was trapped in the Cold Palace for seventeen years. What he desired most wasn’t power, but freedom. He has never been involved in state affairs—why force them upon him?”
“So, you betrayed me.”
“…”
Lu Zhong whispered, “Only this one matter.”
“This subordinate only wanted to take him away.”
“And then force this Prince to act personally,” Yun Yin said, his smile fading, his voice flat. “To borrow my hand to fulfill your final wish for self-destruction.”
Lu Zhong’s lips pressed into a thin line.
Yun Yin rose to his feet, looking down from a great height. His face was impassive, calm. He spoke softly, as if to himself: “They say the one who sits upon the Dragon Throne is a solitary soul, alone in his solitude. Strange. This Prince hasn’t yet sat upon that throne, so why do I feel the same?”
Lu Zhong’s head snapped up instantly.
His voice was hoarse, choked. He couldn’t speak.
Since he didn’t speak, Yun Yin didn’t say anything more either. “This Prince will not kill you.”
“Go to the Punishment Hall yourself and receive punishment according to the rules. From this day forward, you are no longer a Yun Clan Shadow Guard. But this Prince still wants you to oversee the Eastern Depot. You will do whatever this Prince commands. Remember this: you owe me this.”
He said, “Go receive your punishment.”
He spoke with crisp finality.
Lu Zhong stared at him, utterly stunned. …How was this possible? How could Yun Yin not kill him?
Never mind that Yun Yin ordinarily abhorred betrayal above all else—just considering the Yun Clan’s penal code alone, he should have been guaranteed a death sentence this time. How?
The ominous premonition in his heart swelled, becoming unbearable. He couldn’t stop himself from calling out, “…Your Highness?”
Yun Yin lowered his head to look at him.
He suddenly smiled, a soft, gentle curve of the lips, and said lightly, “You should be grateful His Majesty came back.”
“Otherwise, no one could have saved you.”
As the words hung in the air, all color drained from Lu Zhong’s face.
~
As Yun Yin strode toward the door, Lu Zhong finally snapped out of his shock.
He scrambled forward, practically crawling, and clutched at the hem of Yun Yin’s robe. His lips trembled as he rasped, “Your Highness.”
He moved his lips soundlessly for a moment before he managed: “…Please, don’t touch him.”
Yun Yin looked down at him and suddenly laughed. He bent over slightly and asked quietly, “I’m rather curious, Uncle Lu… how exactly do you define ‘touching’ him?”
The bluntness of the question made Lu Zhong squeeze his eyes shut.
“Your Highness,” he babbled incoherently, “my life is cheap—His Little Highness doesn’t even value it. He came back for you. He’s actually very clever; he knows everything. For the sake of him coming back for you, spare him. Please.”
His voice was completely wrecked now. For the first time, Yun Yin glimpsed an emotion bordering on panicked desperation on his face.
Yun Yin smiled. “Uncle Lu, you’re smarter than he is.”
Lu Zhong understood. His face went ashen in an instant—a profound despair etched into every line.
Yun Yin lowered his eyes and walked out.
Crossing the threshold, he calmly instructed the guards outside, “Keep a close watch on Director Lu. Don’t let him leave until he calms down. And don’t let him harm himself. Once he’s calm, he’ll know what to do.”
The men at the door hurriedly acknowledged.
Yun Yin continued walking. When someone moved to follow, he said, “No need.”
He walked on, aimless.
When Princess Wanrong, Li Chunyue, found him, the wine jug beside him was already empty.
He sat on a long corridor, the afternoon air heavy with stillness. He looked up and saw the worried, slightly anxious expression on the woman before him.
–
After a moment, it was Wanrong who broke the silence.
She had heard early that morning about the previous night’s coup. Compared to her elder sister—always distant and rather cold toward her—she was far more concerned about Yun Yin’s state of mind. They were close friends.
But now, seeing him, she found herself at a loss for words.
Hesitating, she said softly, “I’ve heard everything. Are you… alright?”
Yun Yin smiled.
“That’s a question you should be asking your sister and brother-in-law,” he said carelessly. “Everything’s settled. Everyone’s fine except for those two. Although this time, I’m afraid no one can save them.”
Li Chunyue pressed her lips tightly together.
After a moment, she said, “…They brought it upon themselves.”
“The day they tried to kill him,” she continued, “they should have expected this day would come.”
Her temperament was normally gentle, but her words were cold now.
Yun Yin laughed once and took another drink.
Watching him, Li Chunyue suddenly fell silent.
After a long while, she finally said, “Before… I’m sorry.”
Yun Yin didn’t raise his head. “For what?”
Li Chunyue twisted the handkerchief in her hands. She said quietly, “I insisted on going to Eternal Light Temple… ignoring how you felt. I was just too heartbroken. But His Majesty told me…”
But she hadn’t considered that she wasn’t the only one grieving.
The New Emperor had just ascended the throne, the court was in chaos, and everything rested on one man’s shoulders. Her request to leave the palace at that moment—calling it spiritual cultivation was more like running away. She could escape, but Yun Yin could not. If their friendship had been shallow, it might not have mattered. Unfortunately, their bond ran deep.
Looking back now, hearing her request at the time must not have felt pleasant for him at all.
If Li Zhaoyi hadn’t opened her eyes, she wouldn’t have realized this.
At her words, Yun Yin paused.
Then he lowered his gaze and said evenly, “Your Highness need not apologize.”
“Your Highness and the Crown Prince shared the same blood.” He looked at the greenery in the distance, a self-deprecating smile touching his lips. “Some grief is inevitable. And in grief, how can one be considerate of everything? This Humble Official is twenty-four years old—not so delicate as to need Your Highness to stay and accompany me.”
Though laced with sarcasm, these were sincere words. Li Chunyue had no obligation to tend to his emotions. He understood that perfectly. Compared to any hurt he felt, her self-abandonment back then had indeed worried and distracted him for a long time. But that was no one’s fault.
He rose to his feet. “It’s getting late. Your Highness should return.”
Behind him, Li Chunyue couldn’t help asking, “Where are you going?”
She only knew that Changping had launched a coup the previous night—she didn’t know the specifics. Naturally, she knew nothing of Li Zhaoyi’s escape attempt. That matter had been kept extremely secret; so far, only Yun Yin’s most trusted inner circle knew.
Yun Yin’s steps halted.
After a pause, he suddenly said:
“Chunyue.”
The familiar address made Li Chunyue stop dead in her tracks. Her nose nearly stung with emotion, but she held it back. Only after a long beat did she manage to respond, “Yes? What is it?”
“If you saw a very beautiful flower and wanted to keep it for yourself,” Yun Yin said, “but you also knew very clearly that plucking it would harm it—what would you do?”
Li Chunyue froze.
After a moment, she answered hesitantly, “Transplant it into my own garden?”
“That way,” she said, “I could see it every day, right?”
“Not enough,” Yun Yin said.
He paused, then added slowly, “I said, keep it for myself. I want to possess him completely. Make him belong to me. So that anyone who sees him knows he’s mine. And not just by seeing.”
Li Chunyue: “…”
She felt there was something deeply strange about his words, but for a moment, she couldn’t pinpoint what it was.
“Then it depends on the type of flower,” she said, forcing herself to think seriously. “Some flowers, even after being cut, can survive if handled properly. Perhaps, given time, it will bloom again.”
“And what if it once had a chance to escape, but came back on its own?”
Yun Yin was staring at the distant greenery, murmuring as though to himself. “Could I consider that as it walking right into the trap, reaping what it sowed, willingly staying by my side?”
Li Chunyue: “…”
The penny finally dropped. She opened her mouth, realizing what was wrong.
But Yun Yin had already smiled. “Just idle talk. Your Highness needn’t dwell on it.”
With that, he walked off into the distance.
The sun was high. The night before had been filled with slaughter, but today the sky was clear and bright. Li Chunyue stood frozen on the spot for a long time before finally leaving.
Yun Yin walked on, all the way to the entrance of a familiar Bedchamber. Stepping through the courtyard gate, he drained the last jug of wine and set the empty vessel down on a stone table nearby.
Outside the hall, several Palace Maids and eunuchs stood guard.
He paused at the door and ordered flatly, “All of you, withdraw. Not a single person is to remain in this courtyard.”
