[Regent's Residence · Banquet Hall · 7-9 PM]
Chaos.
The Regent's residence had descended into unprecedented chaos.
"Seal the gates! No one leaves!"
"Report to the authorities! Notify the Ministry of Justice!"
"Where's the Duke of Zhenguo? How far did you chase him?"
"We—we couldn't catch him... he was too fast..."
"Useless! All of you, useless!"
Zhou Yanling stood in the center of the banquet hall, cursing at a group of guards. His official robes were spattered with blood, his face ashen. Around him, overturned tables and shattered dishes lay scattered across the floor—the aftermath of the Duke's rampage.
The Duke of Zhenguo killed the Regent and just ran? That bastard... is he trying to drag me down with him?!
He had been standing right there when it happened. The blade, the blood, the Regent's body crumpling to the ground. If anyone asked questions later—if anyone suggested he could have stopped it—
No. I was too far away. There was nothing I could have done. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
He turned to look at Xie Qingyan lying in the pool of blood, his emotions a tangled mess.
The Regent is dead... is this good news or bad?
Good news—one less political enemy. That brat Xie Lan had used his status as the Emperor's uncle to control the court. He should have died long ago.
Bad news—the Duke had escaped. He still had military influence. Even though his tally had been taken, his former subordinates were everywhere in the army. If he raised troops in rebellion, I would be the first target.
Even worse—Prince Huai.
Zhou Yanling's eyes slid toward Prince Huai, and a chill ran down his spine.
That man was no pushover. With the Regent dead, Prince Huai was now the highest-ranking member of the imperial family at court. If he used this opportunity to expand his power...
No, I need to stabilize the situation first. The Duke killed the Regent, so I'll pin the label of "traitorous rebel" firmly on his head. Once he's wanted across the city and has nowhere to run, I'll step forward to "uphold justice."
Right, there's also the young Emperor. With the Regent dead, the young Emperor has lost his backing. Then I can find some excuse to say the Emperor is "too young to rule" and invite Prince Huai to serve as regent... no wait, wouldn't that just benefit Prince Huai?
The more he thought, the more his head hurt.
Forget it. First kill the Duke, then figure out the rest. One step at a time.
He drew a deep breath: "Someone! Seal the entire city! Hunt down the Duke of Zhenguo! The Regent has been assassinated—the murderer must face justice!"
"Yes!"
Several guards stepped forward, about to lift Xie Qingyan's body—
"Wait."
A voice rang out.
Prince Huai stepped forward, his gait measured and unhurried. Wrapped in furs, his complexion pale, he nonetheless carried an unquestionable air of authority.
"The Regent was this prince's nephew. This prince will personally oversee the handling of his remains."
Zhou Yanling frowned. "Your Highness, this—"
"What?" Prince Huai said mildly. "Does the Prime Minister have objections?"
Zhou Yanling opened his mouth, then closed it.
Prince Huai is making his move now. He thought coldly. With the Regent dead, Prince Huai becomes the highest-ranking royal at court. He's positioning himself to take the Regent's place.
Old fox. Zhou Yanling cursed internally. The Regent just died and you're already jumping out? Your ambitions couldn't be more obvious.
But he didn't speak up. Better to wait and see what Prince Huai wanted. Then he could adapt accordingly. Let the old fox show his hand first.
"...Please proceed, Your Highness."
Prince Huai inclined his head slightly and instructed his attendants: "Take the Regent's body to his bedchamber. Have his household prepare for the mourning rites."
He paused, then added: "Tomorrow morning, summon Physician Lin to examine the body."
Zhou Yanling raised an eyebrow. "Examine the body? The Duke stabbed him in front of hundreds of witnesses. What's there to examine?"
"The law requires an autopsy before any criminal case can proceed." Prince Huai said mildly. "Even if the Duke of Zhenguo killed the Regent before everyone's eyes, we must follow proper procedures. This prince is merely... ensuring justice is served."
The autopsy is just an excuse. Prince Huai sneered internally. Making sure he's truly dead is the real goal. That brat Xie Lan was always cunning—always one step ahead, always hiding something up his sleeve.
Even if you faked your death tonight, once Physician Lin examines you tomorrow... I'll make sure you're truly dead.
He had waited years for this moment. Years of playing the invalid, years of pretending to be too sick to threaten anyone. And now, with one stroke of the Duke's blade, both his rivals had eliminated themselves.
Heaven is on my side.
But even old foxes needed rest. Prince Huai's complexion was pale, his breathing slightly labored. The excitement of the evening had taken its toll on his frail body.
"This prince will return tomorrow morning to oversee the examination." He said, pulling his furs tighter. "Prime Minister Zhou, I trust you will handle matters here until then."
Zhou Yanling bowed. "Of course, Your Highness."
Perfect. Zhou Yanling thought. The old fox is leaving. Now I can—
"Oh, and Prime Minister." Prince Huai's voice was mild but carried an edge. "Do ensure no one... tampers with the body before the examination."
Zhou Yanling's smile froze.
Damn old fox. Even leaving, he doesn't forget to check me.
"Naturally, Your Highness. The Regent's household will guard their master's remains."
Prince Huai turned and walked toward the exit, his pace unhurried. The Prime Minister followed shortly after—there was no reason for him to linger at a dead rival's residence.
Xie Qingyan's "corpse" was lifted and carried toward the inner chambers.
No one noticed—in the chaos, several shadow guards intercepted the body before it reached the bedchamber, quietly diverting it to a hidden passage.
[Regent's Residence · Hidden Chamber]
Candlelight flickered.
Xie Qingyan lay on a couch, his complexion pale, not breathing.
The hidden chamber was small but well-appointed—prepared in advance so Yin Wuwang could stay close without being discovered. As a "fugitive murderer," he couldn't be seen at the Regent's residence. But he refused to leave Fuguang alone. Hence, the hidden chamber.
The feigned death pill's effect—perfect.
There was a gruesome wound on his chest, but the blood had long stopped flowing—the feigned death state had slowed his body's functions to near nothing. To any observer, he was indistinguishable from a genuine corpse.
The door to the hidden chamber was pushed open.
Yin Wuwang walked in.
He was still wearing his blood-stained armor, his expression more grave and serious than it had ever been.
"My lord, the body has been successfully transferred." The shadow guard commander reported in a low voice. "Prince Huai and the Prime Minister have both left for the night."
Yin Wuwang let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.
"And the physician?"
"Prince Huai said he'll summon Physician Lin tomorrow morning. The examination will be then."
Tomorrow morning. That gave them the night, at least. But a skilled physician examining Fuguang...
This world's heavenly dao must favor that old fox—giving him such a sharp mind. Seeing the Regent die with his own eyes wasn't enough. He still has to send someone to investigate.
And knowing Prince Huai... if there's even a hint that Fuguang is still alive, that old fox will make sure to "correct" the situation.
He thought quickly. "We have until morning. That's enough time to prepare. When they come tomorrow, move the Regent to the main bedchamber—that's where the examination should take place. I'll observe from behind the screen."
The shadow guard commander nodded. "Understood. And what of you tonight, my lord?"
"I'll stay here." Yin Wuwang said. "Guard the outer perimeter. No one enters this chamber."
He paused, then added: "One more thing. Send a squad to the rear courtyard. The Princess Consort and the concubines—keep them confined. No one leaves, no one enters. We can't have them running around and ruining everything."
The shadow guard commander nodded. "Understood. I'll have men posted at every entrance."
"Good. If anyone asks, tell them it's for their 'protection' during this chaotic time. Mourning protocols and all that."
"Yes."
The shadow guards withdrew, closing the door behind them.
In the hidden chamber, only Yin Wuwang and the "corpse" remained.
Yin Wuwang walked to the bedside.
He stared at Xie Qingyan's face. That face was pale as paper, bloodless, breathless, the eyelashes perfectly still. Dried blood from the banquet still stained his features—real blood from a real wound, now darkened and crusted. In the flickering candlelight, he looked exactly like a corpse. Because, for all intents and purposes, he was one.
He knew this was fake. He knew Fuguang had only taken the feigned death pill. He knew that in six hours, Fuguang would wake.
But—seeing this image, he still felt his heart being crushed in someone's fist.
Three thousand years.
For three thousand years, he had watched Fuguang from afar. He had memorized every expression, every gesture, every subtle shift in those calm eyes. He knew Fuguang's face better than he knew his own.
But he had never seen it like this. Still. Lifeless. Empty.
Yin Wuwang retrieved clean cloths and warm water from the supplies the shadow guards had prepared.
He dampened a cloth and carefully wiped that face. His movements were gentle, as if afraid of hurting him. He wiped away the dried blood first—those dark streaks that marred Fuguang's features. Then the dust, the sweat, the remnants of the evening's performance.
Ridiculous. He's "dead"—can he feel pain?
But his hands kept moving, gentle as ever.
After wiping his face, he checked Xie Qingyan's wound again. The cut was shallow—he had calculated the angle precisely—but still looked gruesome. The edges had already begun to close, the feigned death state slowing all bodily functions including bleeding. He took a clean inner robe from the chest and changed Xie Qingyan into it. The blood-stained outer robes he folded and set aside.
The hidden chamber was cold and damp. He lit a brazier and placed it beside the bed, close enough to warm but not close enough to disturb.
When all this was done, he sat at the bedside and took Xie Qingyan's hand.
Ice cold. Like holding a block of ice.
Yin Wuwang's throat moved.
Fuguang... wake up soon.
He didn't say it aloud. He just held that ice-cold hand, motionless.
Little Deer Assistant 9527's voice chimed in: "Suggestion: Leave the hidden chamber and handle matters outside. You should be preparing for tomorrow's examination."
Get lost.
"Suggestion: Don't waste time sitting beside a corpse. The Regent is already dead. The plan is entering the next phase."
I said get lost.
"Suggestion: You should really escape. Staying here is too dangerous. The entire city is searching for you. If you're discovered—"
Yin Wuwang laughed coldly.
I said I would watch over him. Leave? Leave my ass.
What part of "I'll stay with him" did you not understand, you broken piece of trash?
Little Deer fell silent. Perhaps even an artifact spirit knew when it had pushed too far.
Yin Wuwang continued holding that hand, motionless.
What does this broken system know? Fuguang is lying here. Even if the sky falls, I won't leave.
Even if the entire imperial army breaks down that door, I won't leave.
Even if it costs me this life, this identity, everything I've built in this world—I won't leave him.
He lowered his head, pressing his forehead against the back of their joined hands.
That hand was still cold. Not a trace of warmth.
Fuguang... if you dare truly die on me... I'll... I'll turn this entire world upside down and snatch you back from the King of Hell himself.
One hour passed.
Yin Wuwang still sat there.
Outside, he could hear distant shouting—guards organizing search parties, officials arguing over jurisdiction, servants running back and forth with increasingly frantic orders. The entire city was being mobilized to hunt him down.
He didn't care.
Two hours passed.
He still hadn't moved.
His legs were going numb. His back ached from sitting so still. None of it mattered.
Three hours.
Four hours.
He knew the feigned death pill lasted six hours. He knew Fuguang was fine. But he just didn't want to let go of that hand.
What am I doing?
He asked himself.
Watching over a "corpse"? Like an idiot?
Yin Wuwang, when have you ever been this pathetic?
But he just didn't want to move.
This was the first time in all these years that he could hold Fuguang's hand so openly. In three thousand years of knowing him, he had never once held his hand. They had crossed swords countless times. They had stood on opposite sides of battlefields. But touch? Never.
Even though Fuguang was "dead."
Even though the reason was stupid beyond belief.
But he just... didn't want to let go.
...Yin Wuwang, you useless fool.
He cursed himself again.
Then continued holding that hand, motionless.
Another hour passed.
Five hours now.
Yin Wuwang felt the hand in his palm—
It seemed... less cold than before.
His head snapped up.
Xie Qingyan's face was still pale, eyes still closed, but—
His lips seemed... slightly more colored than before. A faint flush, barely perceptible, was returning to his cheeks.
The drug effect... is it wearing off?
Yin Wuwang's heart clenched, then loosened. Relief flooded through him—so intense it almost hurt.
He's coming back.
He didn't release that hand—only gripped it tighter.
Fuguang... wake up...
I'm waiting for you.
I've been waiting for you for three thousand years. What's one more hour?
He lowered his head, pressing his forehead to that hand again.
This time, he felt it—
A faint, almost imperceptible trace of warmth.
Returning.
Like spring thaw after endless winter. Like the first ray of golden dawn after the longest, darkest night.
Yin Wuwang closed his eyes.
Six hours.
He could wait.
He had waited this long—did one more hour matter?
He had waited three thousand years to stand beside Fuguang as an ally instead of an enemy. He had waited three thousand years for a chance to protect instead of pursue. What was one more hour compared to that eternity?
Outside, the world was in upheaval—the Prime Minister scheming, Prince Huai calculating, the entire city hunting the "murderer" Duke of Zhenguo. Soldiers patrolled the streets. Wanted posters were being written. His name was being cursed in every corner of the capital.
But none of that concerned him.
Right now, he only wanted to watch over Fuguang.
Wait for him to wake.
Wait for him to open his eyes.
Wait for him to say in that mild tone of his, "Why are you still here?"
And then he would say, "I was just confirming the drug worked."
And then Fuguang would glance at him and say nothing.
And Yin Wuwang would pretend that was enough—that stolen glance, that silent acknowledgment. He had survived on far less for three thousand years. A single look from Fuguang was worth more than all the treasures in the Three Realms.
That was how conversations between them had always been—
What they said was one thing. What they understood was another.
The corner of Yin Wuwang's mouth curved slightly.
Fuguang... wake up soon.
I'm right here.
I'm not going anywhere.
Not now. Not ever.
[End of Chapter 27]
Next Chapter Preview:
The physician arrives. Prince Huai demands his autopsy. And Yin Wuwang must decide—let a suspicious doctor examine Fuguang's "corpse," or find another way.
With minutes left on the clock, every second counts.
Chapter 28: The Physician Nearly Ruins Everything—Good Thing This Duke Reacts Fast