Chapter 614: The Last Breath Sustaining the Kingdom

Chapter 614: The Last Breath That Sustains the Realm

Huangfu Qing said no more, drifting away from the other end of the residence.

When words had come to this, what rival in love could still do as much as she had? This reminder, as Tang Wanzhuang had said, came at great cost to herself—not merely letting an adversary go free, but almost teaching that adversary how to thwart her own plans. Whatever happened next, she could face Zhao Changhe with a clear conscience.

In any case, what became of Tang Wanzhuang was no longer her concern; she had her own affairs to attend to. As Huangfu Qing sped through the night, her hand had already drawn out a mask. Slipping through a dark alley before departing, she was already the spreading wings of the Vermilion Bird, demonic flames streaking across the darkness.

Along the way, she couldn’t help but feel a grudging admiration. Judging by Tang Wanzhuang’s attitude, she might have already figured things out even without being told… If their plans were to be ruined at her hands, then Huangfu Qing would truly accept it—outmatched in skill, there was nothing more to say.

As for life and death… Tang Wanzhuang faced the collapse of heaven, but where were they, the dragon-slayers, safe?

Wasn’t everyone gambling with their lives for their own convictions?

Over there, Tang Wanzhuang did not immediately go out to receive Marquis Wuping, Qin Dingjiang. Instead, she first untied Baoqin’s acupressure points and whispered, “Do you know what to do?”

Baoqin tugged at her sleeve, reluctant to let go: “Miss… come with us…”

Tang Wanzhuang patted her head. “Alright… When you see Zhao Changhe later, tell him I’ve promised you to him, how about that?”

Baoqin fumed: “If you have the guts, marry him yourself!”

With that, she stormed off, shouting as she ran: “You promise! If Zhao Changhe were here, he’d ask what right you have to promise anyone to him! You wretched woman, always making arrangements for others—arrange yourself first!”

The moment she finished, she had already vanished, not giving her mistress a chance to scold her.

Tang Wanzhuang watched her retreating figure, sighed softly, and went out to meet Qin Dingjiang.

Qin Dingjiang was her deputy in the Demon Suppression Bureau, once ranked eighteenth on the Earth List and now fourteenth—another pillar of the Great Xia Empire. He had been responsible for escorting Wang Daozhong back to the capital during the Yang family incident. Taciturn and steady, unaffiliated with any great clan, he had earned Tang Wanzhuang’s deep trust.

“Dingjiang, why have you come so late at night? What is His Majesty’s decree?”

Qin Dingjiang clasped his hands in salute: “I do not know either. He only ordered that the Director present herself at the Imperial Study.”

Because Xia Longyuan had returned wounded, and Tang Wanzhuang knew well that the palace guards and inner guards were all useless sycophants stuffed in by various noble families, she had arranged for Qin Dingjiang to serve in the secret palace guard. It was normal for him to relay the emperor’s orders. She nodded and strode out: “In that case, I’ll take the night watch. Dingjiang, go back and rest—you’ve been exhausted these past days.”

Qin Dingjiang smiled: “Then I truly won’t stand on ceremony with the Director. You work hard tonight; I’ll rest a while and come to relieve you.”

Tang Wanzhuang laughed: “I’m not that fragile. A few nights are nothing. Go on.”

“Still, I need to hand over first. Let me accompany you part of the way.”

“Very well.”

The two sped through the night, straight to the palace gates. The guards, recognizing them, bowed and opened the gates to let them in.

The Imperial Study was not far from the outer palace, a small side hall near the Golden Throne Hall, convenient for outside ministers to enter and discuss affairs. It had been one of the symbols of Xia Longyuan’s early diligence after ascending the throne. But in recent years, the bright lamps in the Imperial Study had nothing to do with Xia Longyuan himself; he was merely a rubber stamp sitting there, going through the motions.

The nature of this impostor was also quite interesting.

He could not possibly bother Xia Longyuan with every state affair—if he did, what need was there for a fake? In truth, Xia Longyuan had handed over all authority for court discussions and document approval to him. He could do as he pleased. On the surface, his power was vast, no different from a real emperor. Strictly speaking, many of the foolish policies of recent years had been issued by him, while Xia Longyuan paid no attention.

But he could never replace Xia Longyuan entirely. When he retired to the inner palace, he had to hide in a small room of his own. He dared not sleep with the empress; his cooperation with Huangfu Qing was purely political, and he dared not touch the other consorts or even the palace maids. In theory, they all belonged to the real old Xia. If the real emperor ever wanted them, he would lose his head.

Who could understand that agony? His cooperation with Huangfu Qing had perhaps harbored a secret hope—that under such circumstances, something might spark between them. But that was only a dream. He soon realized that Huangfu Qing regarded him as nothing.

Politically, on the surface, he could wave his arms and do whatever he wanted. But when it came to truly important matters—those involving the great clans, the military, or key personnel—he still had to seek the real Xia Longyuan’s approval. For instance, Tang Wanzhuang always contradicted him. On the surface, she was respectful, but her beautiful eyes hid the meaning: “I know you’re a fake. I give you face, but I despise you.” The impostor was irritated and wanted to dismiss her—but dared he?

He had tentatively asked the real Xia Longyuan if he could remove her. The old Xia had nearly knocked half his teeth out with a slap: “Wanzhuang is my Martial Marquis. You are my puppet. Know your place. Do you really think this realm depends on you?”

No power over the realm, no beauty by his side—this kind of “emperor” was worse than an ordinary man. At least an ordinary man could marry a wife; he could not.

Under such circumstances, it was no wonder the impostor had colluded with the Four Symbols Sect and installed Huangfu Qing in the inner palace. It was his most serious provocation and test of Xia Longyuan. His excuse was, “I want a wife too.” Xia Longyuan had frowned for a long time and finally said, “Very well. It will set Huangfu Yongxian’s mind at ease, I suppose. Let her make her mischief for a few years and see what tricks the Four Symbols Sect can play. As for you… do you think you can hide your little schemes from me?”

That time, the impostor had felt as if ten thousand ants were gnawing at him, tortured for ten full days without being able to leave his bed.

He finally understood: Xia Longyuan seemed to ignore everything, but in truth, he knew everything. He knew Huangfu Qing was plotting against him, yet he tolerated her—partly to pacify the Yanmen Northern Army, partly out of a slight guilt toward the Four Symbols Sect, and partly out of confidence that the sect could not cause much trouble. But tolerating Huangfu Qing did not mean tolerating him. That double standard after the test had utterly crushed any thought the impostor had of fighting for his own rights. He resigned himself to being a puppet.

Until today, he finally had a chance to strike back—against Xia Longyuan and against Tang Wanzhuang, who had always looked down on him.

Just as Tang Wanzhuang and Qin Dingjiang reached the door of the Imperial Study, the eunuch outside announced: “Director Tang of the Demon Suppression Bureau has arrived.”

From within the Imperial Study came the impostor’s cold voice: “The Tang family of Gusu has openly declared themselves kings and rebelled—this is high treason, with irrefutable evidence. Arrest Tang Wanzhuang immediately, confiscate the Tang estate in the capital, and exterminate the entire clan!”

Even as he spoke, Qin Dingjiang, who had been walking beside Tang Wanzhuang with a smile, suddenly struck at her back.

As a subject, Tang Wanzhuang seemed unable to resist. The blow appeared to land squarely.

All around, jaws dropped.

The impostor was at least a martial artist of no mean skill. His “golden words” carried far, heard by the nearby guards, eunuchs, maids, and even the ministers and scholars who had stayed overnight in the outer palace. In an instant, shock spread both inside and out.

These people did not know he was a fake; they took it as a genuine decree.

Whether the Tang family had actually rebelled was uncertain—it was merely a rumor, requiring investigation, perhaps even negotiation. How could it be decided so hastily?

Even if the Tang family were guilty of rebellion, how could Tang Wanzhuang be implicated? Everyone knew she had resolutely opposed it. At most, she should be dismissed from office. Killing Tang Wanzhuang—was there any hope left for the realm? Did they not know how many people were still working for the empire solely because of her? Many knew the future was bleak but were moved by her personal charisma to persist—people like Li Si’an. They were not few; they were the last defenders of the empire.

Killing Tang Wanzhuang was even more absurd than Zhao Gou killing Yue Fei. It would scatter the last shreds of loyalty the empire possessed!

How dared he issue such a self-destructive order?

Those who could read the signs of qi saw the dragon aura above the palace vanish in that instant, leaving nothing behind.

In the stunned silence, Tang Wanzhuang, seemingly subdued, sighed: “I knew it. This is the fuse. The realm’s qi has long been shaken. This final, critical blow falls upon me. I cannot kill you, because if word spreads that Tang Wanzhuang has assassinated the emperor, the effect would be the same. It is an unsolvable problem.”

From within the Imperial Study came no reply, but Qin Dingjiang recoiled in horror: “You… your acupoints weren’t sealed?”

Tang Wanzhuang’s face flushed almost imperceptibly.

Someone had kissed her and practiced dual cultivation, passing qi—of course, he had taught her how to practice dual cultivation. She had also studied the Maitreya Sect’s techniques, including the method of shifting acupoints.

She had never imagined she would use it here.