[Regent's Residence · Banquet Hall · 5-7 PM]
Xie Qingyan sat at the head of the hall, his dark robes gleaming coldly in the candlelight.
The banquet hall was magnificent—silk hangings, jade ornaments, tables laden with delicacies that would cost most families a year's wages. All of it staged for tonight's performance. Every detail had been planned, every servant briefed, every shadow guard positioned.
Little Deer Assistant 9528's voice echoed in his mind: "Reminder: Banquet in progress. The Duke of Zhenguo will arrive shortly. Prepare to enter the next phase."
Xie Qingyan didn't even blink.
Yin Wuwang should be here soon. Time for the show to begin.
He could feel the pain suppression talisman pressed against his chest beneath his robes—the one Yin Wuwang had spent an extra 50,000 spirit stones on. A unnecessary precaution, really. He had endured far worse wounds in his three thousand years of cultivation. But the thought that Yin Wuwang had worried about his pain... it was unexpectedly considerate.
He raised his wine cup and took a small sip.
The wine was decent—but compared to the celestial nectar of the Nine Heavens, this mortal brew was barely worth mentioning. Like comparing a puddle to an ocean.
The hall blazed with lamplight, cups clinking and toasts exchanged. Every civil and military official in court had gathered here, their murmurs rising and falling like a flock of chattering sparrows.
"Did you hear? The Regent is hosting this banquet to apologize to the Duke of Zhenguo?"
"The other day in court, the Regent seconded the motion to take the Duke's military tally. The Duke was so furious he nearly drew his blade..."
"Aren't those two mortal enemies? Why would the Regent apologize? Has the sun risen in the west?"
"Shh—keep your voice down! The Regent is sitting right up there!"
Xie Qingyan caught every whisper, the corner of his mouth curving imperceptibly.
These mortals and their little whispers, thinking they can't be heard if they speak softly. In a cultivator's ears, they might as well be banging drums and gongs.
But that's fine. The more they gossip, the more spectacular the coming performance will be.
Prime Minister Zhou Yanling sat in the seat of honor on the left, holding his wine cup and studying Xie Qingyan's expression, trying to glean some insight.
That brat looks perfectly composed today. He doesn't seem like someone who's been pushed to the edge...
He thought back over the court atmosphere of the past few days.
The day the Duke of Zhenguo had his tally taken, Xie Lan had personally seconded the motion. Yin Lie's face had been thunderous—he had nearly drawn his blade on the spot. If the young Emperor hadn't intervened, the court would have been painted with blood that day.
After that, Yin Lie had claimed illness and stopped attending court. Rumor had it he had smashed over a dozen tea sets in his residence.
Zhou Yanling sneered internally.
That little brat Xie Lan must have been genuinely frightened by Yin Lie. Military men are all the same—unreasonable brutes. So he rushed to host this apology banquet, hoping to smooth things over.
Young people. Never can keep their composure.
He raised his wine cup, unable to hide the smile at the corner of his mouth.
Two tigers fighting, one must fall. I'll sit on the mountain and watch the tigers battle. Wait for them to wound each other, then swoop in.
Prince Huai sat on the right, his body held rigidly upright in his wheelchair.
He wasn't drinking—just quietly observing everyone in the hall.
Xie Lan suddenly showing weakness...
Prince Huai's fingers tapped lightly on the armrest of his wheelchair.
There must be something suspicious here.
He recalled the intelligence he had received over the past few days.
After losing his military tally, the Duke of Zhenguo had indeed flown into a rage. Reportedly, he had even smashed the bronze mirror in his study, terrifying his personal attendants so badly they didn't dare approach.
It looks like he truly hates Xie Lan to the bone...
But Prince Huai still felt something was off.
Well, no rush. Let's watch and see.
He settled back into his wheelchair, his gaze deep and unfathomable.
If Yin Lie truly has a falling out with Xie Lan, it only benefits me. Let them fight first, and I'll reap the rewards.
Three rounds of wine had been served.
Xie Qingyan set down his cup and surveyed the hall. "I've gathered everyone here today for one matter."
The hall fell instantly silent. Every ear perked up.
"Regarding the incident in court the other day, this King was indeed at fault." He paused, his expression carrying a hint of "sincerity." "The Duke of Zhenguo is loyal and devoted, guarding our borders and serving the nation with distinction. This King listened to slander and seconded the motion to take his military tally. The fault lies with this King."
The hall erupted.
"The Regent is apologizing?"
"Did I hear that right? That vengeful Regent?"
"Since when does the Regent apologize? The world has truly changed!"
Murmurs surged, even more chaotic than before.
Xie Qingyan's expression remained unchanged, but internally he was amused.
These mortals' expressions are truly entertaining. Every one of them goggling like they've witnessed something impossible.
It's just an apology. If this were the Nine Heavens, I could release a single piece of news and shake the entire cultivation world for three days. This is nothing.
He continued: "Today's banquet is to invite the Duke of Zhenguo here, so that before all the civil and military officials, this King may offer my apologies. Let us bury the hatchet and jointly support the empire."
Zhou Yanling nearly spat out his wine.
Xie Lan apologizing? He, Xie Lan, would apologize? Has the world changed, or have my ears gone deaf?
He steadied himself and thought back over the recent intelligence.
No... that little brat Xie Lan has always been proud and arrogant. Why would he suddenly back down?
Unless... he really was frightened by Yin Lie.
Zhou Yanling remembered how Yin Lie had reached for his blade in court, and the corner of his mouth curved upward.
That must be it. When military men lose their temper, they're capable of anything. No matter how clever Xie Lan's schemes, he still has to worry about that blade coming down.
Hehe, young people. Never can keep their composure. One provocation from a soldier and he loses his footing.
He raised his wine cup, waiting for the show.
Prince Huai's eyelids flickered, his face betraying nothing.
Interesting... that brat actually backed down. Was he pushed to it, or does he have other plans?
He narrowed his eyes and studied Xie Qingyan for a long moment.
Xie Lan's expression was calm, his speech organized. He didn't look like someone making a panicked decision.
Strange... if he had been pushed to this, he should look more anxious. This manner of his seems more like... he was prepared for this all along?
Alarm bells rang in Prince Huai's mind. He was about to think further when—
BANG!
The banquet hall doors were kicked open with enough force to crack the frame.
Every head in the room whipped toward the entrance.
Yin Wuwang strode in, armor clanking, his face a mask of fury.
He had spent all afternoon perfecting this entrance—the angle of his shoulders, the weight of his footsteps, the exact degree of rage in his eyes. Now, looking at the sea of startled faces before him, he felt a grim satisfaction.
Not bad. That door-kicking was particularly good.
"REGENT!"
His voice thundered through the hall, making the candle flames flicker.
"You had this Duke falsely accused of treason, took this Duke's military tally, destroyed this Duke's reputation—"
He advanced toward the head of the hall, each step like a weight pressing down on every heart present. His boot heels struck the stone floor with heavy, deliberate thuds.
"And now you're putting on this hypocritical show of an apology banquet?!"
He stopped three paces from Xie Qingyan, murder blazing in his eyes: "What do you take this Duke for?!"
The entire hall fell deathly silent.
The officials who had been whispering moments ago now didn't dare to breathe.
Xie Qingyan rose to his feet, his expression "grave": "Duke, please calm yourself. This King truly has sincere intentions today—"
"Sincere intentions?" Yin Wuwang let out a cold laugh, cutting him off. "This Duke doesn't want your 'sincere intentions,' Xie Lan!"
He swept his gaze across the assembled officials, his voice ice-cold: "Since everyone is here, this Duke will ask the Regent in front of all—"
"Three generations of the Yin family have served loyally. This Duke has guarded the borders for forty years, repelled foreign invasions over a hundred times. This Duke's military tally was bestowed by the late Emperor himself. This Duke's title was earned through blood and battle!"
His voice rose higher and higher: "And you, Regent—with one accusation of colluding with foreigners, you took my tally? Destroyed my lifelong reputation?!"
The final words were nearly a roar: "You, Xie Lan—what gives you the RIGHT?!"
The hall was silent as death. Officials exchanged terrified glances. Some of the younger ones looked pale, as if they expected blood to start flowing at any moment.
But inside, Yin Wuwang was thinking:
These lines... I practiced them all afternoon in front of the bronze mirror at the Duke's residence. The delivery should be pretty good, right?
That last "what gives you the RIGHT" had good resonance. Really echoed through the hall.
Fuguang's coordination is perfect too. The timing of him standing up, his tone of voice—it's like the real thing.
Not that I expected anything less. This is Fuguang. Even when we were enemies, his every move was perfectly calibrated.
His acting is so much better than mine. All I have to do is be angry, and I'm actually a little angry—it galls me to say these things to him, even knowing it's fake.
Zhou Yanling's hand trembled as he held his wine cup—not from fear, but from excitement.
What a show... what a show!
Two tigers fighting, one must fall. I'm just waiting to watch these two brats tear each other apart!
He glanced at Prince Huai and found the prince looking back at him.
Their eyes met briefly, then both looked away.
That old fox is thinking the same thing, isn't he? Hmph. Let them fight first. We'll swoop in for the spoils.
Prince Huai's fingers tapped lightly on his armrest.
The Duke of Zhenguo's rage... it seems he truly hates Xie Lan to the bone.
He recalled the intelligence about Yin Lie throwing a fury in his residence these past days and thought to himself:
Mm... understandable. If it were I who had been publicly stripped of my military authority, I couldn't swallow that insult either.
It seems these two are truly about to have a falling out.
He settled back in his wheelchair, his gaze deep and calculating.
Let them fight first. I'll reap the rewards.
The doubt he had felt moments ago was swept away by Yin Lie's "rage."
Xie Qingyan's expression remained unchanged, his voice steady: "The Duke misunderstands. This King hosted today's banquet precisely to restore the Duke's good name—"
"Restore my name?" Yin Wuwang cut him off. "This Duke doesn't need you to restore it!"
He bit out each word: "This Duke's name—this Duke will take back himself!"
The atmosphere was knife-edge tense.
Yin Wuwang and Xie Qingyan faced each other. One radiating fury, one calm as still water.
Every official held their breath, not daring to make a sound. A few of the more timid ones had already quietly shuffled backward, afraid that flying blades might soon reach them.
Yin Wuwang's hand was already on his sword hilt.
Xie Qingyan's shadow guards stepped forward, positioning themselves between him and their master.
One spark, and everything would explode.
But Xie Qingyan was thinking:
Yin Wuwang really commits to a performance. This fury, this tone, this killing intent... if I didn't know the truth, I'd probably believe he genuinely hates me.
Still...
His gaze flickered slightly.
This level of acting should be enough to fool that old fox Zhou Yanling. As for Prince Huai...
He glanced at the figure in the wheelchair.
That one is suspicious by nature. But as long as Yin Wuwang's performance is convincing enough, he won't find any flaws.
Now, let's see Yin Wuwang's show.
Yin Wuwang gripped his sword hilt tighter, putting on a stance that suggested he might draw at any moment.
But internally, he was mocking:
The expressions on these mortals' faces—each one more entertaining than the last. That Prime Minister's glee is practically overflowing. Prince Huai can keep his composure, but too bad—
Your little schemes, in front of me and Fuguang, are as thin as paper.
He let out a scornful laugh, adopting his final "threatening" pose.
His fingers quietly settled on the hilt—in another half-incense stick's time, it would be time to "make his move."
Half an inch from the heart. Not more, not less.
I can do this.
For Fuguang, I can do anything.
The candlelight flickered. The assembled officials held their breath. And two old foxes smiled in the shadows, certain they were watching their enemies destroy each other.
None of them knew they were the ones being played.
[End of Chapter 25]
Next Chapter Preview:
The Regent speaks the words designed to push the Duke over the edge.
"Know your place. Don't harbor delusions... lest you invite disaster."
And just like that—the blade comes out.
Chapter 26: The Regent Says Something Provocative, and This Duke Can "Endure No Longer"