A day's ride from Jindu, a rider spurred their horse through the gate of a small town, heading straight for a secluded courtyard.
The rider dismounted in a side alley and vanished inside. The black gates remained shut tight.
In the main hall, Murong Yan took the letter from Xiazhi, who was still dressed in riding gear. He read it, his brow furrowing.
"What does the Emperor mean by this?" He looked up sharply.
"General Murong, the situation in Jindu is critical. I cannot delay. The Fifteen will leave now." Xiazhi bowed, offering no comment on the letter.
Xue Liulan had given strict orders: Since he had let the Murong family go, they were to be left alone. No matter what happened in Jindu, they were not to be involved.
"Is he really moving against Guo Shangzhong?"
"Yes. After the Empress's death, His Majesty can no longer tolerate him." Xiazhi sighed.
"He isn't confident, is he?"
"No. We should have waited. But the Empress's death… he can't wait anymore."
First his son, then his wife. Even if it meant mutual destruction, Xue Liulan would drag Guo Shangzhong down with him. And for Xue Liulan, death might be a relief.
Murong Yan frowned. They didn't have the leverage yet. If they struck now, and Guo Shangzhong rebelled, the odds were slim.
"He is gambling with a dynasty that has stood for centuries," Murong Yan said coldly. "He was always patient. Why so reckless now?"
"She was his life." Xiazhi recalled the Emperor's state in Zhaoyang Palace. Sitting in the dark, refusing food or drink, waking from dreams with a tear-soaked pillow.
The lazy, carefree prince was gone.
Murong Yan was silent for a long time. "How is he?"
"Bad." Xiazhi answered immediately. Then she reconsidered. "Not bad, exactly. Just… soulless. When the little prince died, he still had the Empress. Now… he is a walking corpse."
She sighed.
A soft sigh echoed hers from behind the screen.
Xiazhi stiffened. A woman in black, wearing a bamboo hat with a veil, walked out.
"Lit… How did you get out?" Murong Yan stopped himself.
The woman walked up to Xiazhi. Xiazhi stepped back instinctively. This woman wasn't one of them, but she radiated a familiar aura.
"You said Xue Liulan is not doing well?" Her voice was raspy.
Xiazhi's brow twitched. The voice, the way she addressed the Emperor… it was uncanny.
"Is something earth-shattering about to happen in Jindu?"
"Yes." Xiazhi answered cautiously.
The woman turned to Murong Yan.
"Xiazhi, please leave us," Murong Yan ordered.
Xiazhi bowed and left, closing the door.
"Once you choose, there is no turning back." Murong Yan stared at his daughter. He couldn't let her fall back into that cage. "The palace will only imprison your youth. It will never give you the life you want."
"I won't reveal my identity," Murong Jin said calmly. "But I have to go back."
"You let go. Going back now could mean eternal damnation." Murong Yan crushed the letter in his hand.
The letter was clear. Since she had faked her death to escape, Xue Liulan would honor her wish. The Murong family was officially dead to the court. After he took the Danxi, the name Murong Jin would be nothing more than history to him.
"Even if I'm crushed to powder, I can't watch him face this alone." She lowered her head, fighting back tears. "Father, I thought I wanted freedom. To roam the world like Senior Brother Bai Ze. But I was wrong."
"Jin." Murong Yan put a hand on her trembling shoulder.
"If the person you love isn't there, freedom is just another cage of longing." She lifted her veil, her eyes red. "So, Father, I must see him safe."
"And then?" Murong Yan's voice was hoarse.
"And then?" She faltered. She didn't know. She had just heard he was in danger and acted without thinking.
"Jin, do you really want to throw away all your efforts? Besides… maybe you aren't that important to him anymore."
She looked at him suspiciously. Her hand went to her chest, where the divorce letter lay.
"Maybe not." She laughed bitterly. "But that's his business, isn't it?"
Murong Yan hesitated, then handed her the letter. She hated secrets.
Her hands shook violently as she read. Her face went white.
He… he was willing to erase all memory of her?
"Jin." Murong Yan steadied her.
"I'm fine, Father." She gasped for air, as if drowning.
"Since he has forgotten you, you should let yourself go."
She shook her head fiercely, tears streaming down her face.
"Isn't this enough to break the tie?" Murong Yan asked, desperate. He didn't want her to suffer again.
"I'm sorry, Father. Let me be willful this one time." She bowed deeply. "Please go ahead. Once this is settled, I will return to Wuchuan with you and never set foot in Jindu again."
Outside, Xiazhi paced. That woman… she was so like the Empress. If she brought her to the Master, would it comfort him?
The door opened. A figure walked out.
"Mu… Murong Jin?" Xiazhi stared as if seeing a ghost. She stumbled back three steps. "Your Majesty… don't scare me."
"I will go with you to Jindu. But as a member of the Fifteen." Murong Jin looked at her calmly. "I know each of the Fifteen commands their own squad. I will be one of yours."
"Mm." Xiazhi stared, unable to look away.
"After this is over, I will leave. Please keep my identity secret." She bowed.