The Sickly Regent Prince Who Was Abandoned as a Substitute Bride

Chapter 610

"Kill!" Zhao Xuan's spear pierced the enemy commander's head, and in the moonlight, splattered blood bloomed like red plum blossoms on Lin Yu's pale face. The surprise attack lasted until dawn, and when the first rays of sunlight illuminated the devastation, the surviving enemy troops were already routed. The remnants, gazing at the black dragon flag fluttering once more, let out hoarse cheers that startled the sand owls across the entire Gobi Desert.

Meanwhile, in Chang'an, Li Chong accidentally dropped his teacup onto a gold brick wall. The ink on the battle report delivered by his spies was still wet, the words stabbing at his heart like knives. Staring at the plaque on the wall inscribed with "Loyalty and Diligence for the Nation" bestowed by the late emperor, his hands trembled as he removed the tiger tally from a hidden compartment. In the flickering candlelight, his aged face twisted into a sinister grin: "Zhao Xuan, this game of chess isn't over yet..."

On the northwestern Gobi Desert, Zhao Xuan and Lin Yu rode side by side. In the distance, snow-capped mountains reflected the newly reorganized army. Zhao Xuan stroked the new jade belt at his waist, its dragon-pattern carvings even more sharp than before. "Once the border is pacified, I will make all the traitors kneel before the ancestral temple to apologize." His voice was carried away by the morning breeze, transforming into the sharpest blade in the rosy dawn.

As dusk fell like blood, the setting sun painted the vast wilderness a dark purple. Lin Yu reined in his restless horse, which reared up and neighed, its hooves pawing the ground uneasily. He wiped the sweat from his brow, his gaze deep and unfathomable, and looked at Zhao Xuan, clad in black armor, beside him. He said in a deep voice, "General, Li Chong holds the Tiger Tally. This man is ambitious and will likely not sit idly by and await his doom."

Zhao Xuan narrowed his eyes slightly, the biting wind ruffling the hem of his cloak. A meaningful sneer curled at the corner of his lips: "Hmph, if he dares to make any rash moves, he'll be courting death. I command two hundred thousand elite troops; how can I allow him to plot against me behind my back?" Before he finished speaking, the sound of rapid hoofbeats suddenly came from afar. Amidst the rising dust, a messenger rode up at breakneck speed.

The messenger, pale and panting, dismounted before his horse had even come to a complete stop, kneeling heavily on one knee. His voice was filled with panic: "General! Urgent report from the capital! Li Chong, under the pretext of 'purging the emperor's inner circle,' has mobilized a portion of the Imperial Guards and border troops, and they are marching westward in a grand procession!"

Zhao Xuan's thick eyebrows furrowed instantly, a sharp killing intent flashing in his eyes. He hesitated for a moment, then gripped the sword at his waist tightly and decisively ordered, "The entire army will rest on the spot for a day to replenish supplies and arrows. We will return to Chang'an immediately tomorrow morning! Order all camps to strictly adhere to military discipline and not to slacken in the slightest!"

Meanwhile, undercurrents were already swirling within the capital. Li Chong, dressed in magnificent official robes, delivered a passionate speech in the court, deliberately raising his voice eight octaves: "Your Majesty, Zhao Xuan is amassing an army and is recuperating his strength abroad. His wolfish ambitions are blatantly obvious! To protect Your Majesty's safety and the integrity of our Great Tang Dynasty, I have no choice but to raise an army to punish him under the pretext of 'purging the court of corrupt officials'!" As he spoke, he secretly observed the emperor's expression. Seeing the emperor's furrowed brows and hesitant look, he couldn't help but feel secretly pleased, thinking that his plan was about to succeed.

Inside the magnificent palace, the emperor paced back and forth, his desk piled high with memorials impeaching Zhao Xuan. Li Chong's arguments had left him bewildered, and for a moment he was at a loss for what to do. Meanwhile, Li Chong stood by, secretly pleased with himself, a barely perceptible glint of sinister malice flashing in his eyes, as if he could already see Zhao Xuan's head severed from his body.

However, Li Chong underestimated Zhao Xuan's marching speed. Zhao Xuan was a strict disciplinarian, and his soldiers were highly trained. The army marched day and night, advancing towards Chang'an at an astonishing pace. In just a few days, the 200,000-strong army had arrived at the gates of Chang'an like a dark cloud pressing down on the city. On the city walls, the defending soldiers looked at the seemingly endless army, their hearts filled with fear and unease.

Zhao Xuan, clad in gleaming silver armor and with a long, gleaming sword hanging at his waist, stood at the front of the formation, riding a tall horse. His eyes were piercing as he shouted, "Li Chong! You have bewitched the Emperor and plotted a rebellion! Surrender at once! Do not implicate the people of the city!" His voice resounded like a great bell, echoing through the heavens.

Standing atop the city wall, Li Chong's previously smug expression instantly turned deathly pale. Yet, he feigned composure and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Zhao Xuan! You are the true traitor! How dare you lead troops to besiege the capital! Your intentions are despicable!" As his words fell, the soldiers on the city wall drew their bows and arrows, while Zhao Xuan's army below quickly formed ranks. A fierce and terrifying battle was about to erupt, and a blood-red gloom seemed to have descended upon Chang'an.

A biting wind swept across Chang'an's city walls, carrying sand and gravel. The banners on the city towers fluttered in the wind, as if mourning the impending bloody battle. Below the city, two hundred thousand troops, like an iron torrent, surrounded Chang'an completely. Swords, spears, and halberds gleamed coldly in the twilight. On the city towers, the defenders drew their bows and nocked arrows, cold sweat trickling down their foreheads and soaking into their armor. The atmosphere was so oppressive that it was hard to breathe.

At this critical moment, the heavy city gate creaked open, as if it could no longer bear the weight. With the creak, a figure in bright yellow robes emerged, surrounded by the tight guards of the Imperial Guards. The emperor wore a twelve-tassel crown, a robe embroidered with golden dragons, and black boots with gold-embroidered cloud patterns. His dragon robe fluttered in the wind, exuding majesty. Behind him followed a group of trembling ministers, some pale-faced, some secretly wiping away sweat, and others with shifty eyes—a vivid portrayal of the diverse lives of ordinary people.

Upon seeing this, Zhao Xuan immediately dismounted and knelt heavily on the ground with a thud, his forehead pressed against the earth. His voice was firm and unwavering: "Your Majesty! I risked my life to raise an army, solely to purge the court of corrupt officials and protect the state. I have absolutely no intention of disloyalty! Please, Your Majesty, investigate thoroughly!" The soldiers behind him also knelt down in unison, their synchronized movements as if they had practiced countless times. Their shouts of "Purge the court of corrupt officials! Protect the state!" shook the heavens and the earth.

Li Chong's face turned ashen, but he still forced himself to kneel on the ground, his voice trembling as he feigned righteous indignation: "Your Majesty! Zhao Xuan has amassed a powerful army and is plotting a rebellion. Now he dares to besiege the city, clearly intending to assassinate the emperor and usurp the throne! Please, Your Majesty, do justice for us!" As he spoke, he secretly glanced at the emperor, a hint of barely perceptible panic flashing in his eyes.

The emperor walked slowly to the city wall, his eyes beneath his crown unfathomable. He glanced at the kneeling crowd, finally fixing his gaze on Zhao Xuan. His voice was deep and authoritative: "Minister Zhao, words alone are not enough. Do you have any evidence to prove that Li Chong is plotting a rebellion?"

Upon hearing this, Zhao Xuan carefully took out a secret letter from his bosom and held it high above his head: "Your Majesty! This is irrefutable evidence of Li Chong's collusion with the enemy! To obtain this secret letter, the spies I sent risked their lives. Please take a look, Your Majesty!" A eunuch jogged forward, took the secret letter, and presented it to the emperor.

The emperor unfolded the secret letter, his face growing increasingly grim with each reading, veins throbbing on his forehead. The letter, written clearly, detailed Li Chong's conspiracy with the enemy state to coordinate an attack and divide the country, along with a list of military supplies and weapons Li Chong demanded. Upon finishing, the emperor was enraged, slamming the letter to the ground. His fingers, beneath his dragon robe, trembled slightly with fury: "Li Chong! What do you have to say for yourself?!"

Seeing his scheme exposed, a flicker of despair and madness flashed in Li Chong's eyes. He suddenly lunged forward, drawing his sword and shouting, "Since that's the case, then let's fight to the death!" He charged towards the emperor. In the blink of an eye, Zhao Xuan leaped forward, his longsword flashing like lightning. A cold light flashed, Li Chong's eyes widened, a hoarse sound escaped his throat, and his sword fell limply to the ground. His body collapsed heavily, blood instantly staining the blue bricks.

The emperor let out a long sigh of relief, his tense body finally relaxing. He personally stepped forward, helped Zhao Xuan up with both hands, his eyes full of satisfaction: "Minister Zhao, you have rendered meritorious service in protecting the country, your loyalty is beyond question! I will certainly reward you handsomely! If it weren't for you this time, I would have been deceived by treacherous people and made a grave mistake!"

With Li Chong's execution, a crisis that threatened the nation was finally averted. In Chang'an, people flocked to their homes, and the streets once again echoed with the sounds of vendors hawking their wares and laughter. Zhao Xuan, for his meritorious service in protecting the emperor, was not only promoted and ennobled, but his prestige at court soared, making him a pillar of the state revered by all. The night sky over Chang'an, after this turmoil, returned to its tranquility, save for the lingering bloodstains on the city walls, their dark red hue under the moonlight telling the harrowing story that had just unfolded.

In the late autumn of Chang'an, morning mist, carrying a frosty chill, drifted over the palace walls. As the bronze bell tolled its ninth time, the Golden Palace was already brightly lit with candles. The emperor sat regally on his dragon throne, gazing at the kneeling officials below, and suddenly felt that the bright yellow glazed tiles and vermilion pillars before him were shrouded in an impenetrable gloom—this was the third month since the suppression of Li Chong's rebellion, and the seemingly calm court was actually rife with undercurrents.

"Speak now if you have something to say—" The high-pitched voice of the eunuch in charge of ceremonies broke the silence. Just then, Chen Li, the Grand Secretary of the Wenyuan Pavilion, suddenly stepped forward from the crowd, his robes brushing against the blue bricks with a soft rustling sound. He held a scroll of memorials in his hands, his fingertips trembling slightly, his aged voice carrying a deliberately suppressed tremor: "Your Majesty! Although General Zhao has rendered meritorious service in protecting you during the crisis, he now commands 200,000 elite troops, and his prestige in the army is at its zenith. I fear that if this continues, he may become too powerful to control!"

These words immediately caused an uproar in the hall. The military officers frowned and whispered among themselves, while the civil officials nodded in agreement. Behind Chen Li, several ministers who were on good terms with him offered repeated advice: "Throughout history, those whose achievements overshadow their rulers rarely meet a good end," "The loss of military power is a great threat to the nation"... The rising and falling voices of discussion formed an invisible net, enveloping the emperor on the throne.

The emperor's fingers unconsciously traced the dragon patterns on the armrest of his throne, deepening the furrows between his brows. The scene of Li Chong's rebellion was still vivid in his mind, and now the military power in Zhao Xuan's hands had become a new thorn in his side. He waved his hand, signaling everyone to be quiet: "I need to think this over carefully." As his words fell, several ministers in the corner exchanged meaningful glances.

The news spread like wildfire, reaching the Zhao residence that very day. Zhao Xuan's grip on his teacup tightened slightly, scalding tea splashing onto his hand, but he remained oblivious. Outside the window, the paulownia leaves swirled and fell. In a daze, he recalled months ago, kneeling before the emperor in Chang'an, risking his life. Now, his act of protecting the emperor had become a death warrant.

Late at night, the candlelight flickered in the study. Zhao Xuan spread out a sheet of Xuan paper, the tip of his brush hovering above the inkwell, hesitant to fall. Moonlight streamed through the window, casting interplay of light and shadow on his face. Finally, he sighed heavily, the brush fell, and the ink blurred: "Your Majesty, I am willing to surrender the military power of the three northwestern garrisons, only asking to guard the nation's gates..." The characters were powerful and penetrating, yet a slight tremor could not be concealed at the end.

When the emperor received the memorial, he was admiring chrysanthemums in the Imperial Garden. Withered yellow petals fell on the memorial. He stared at the words "reduce the power of the princes" for a long time, then suddenly chuckled: "Zhao Xuan is quite clever." But the smile did not reach his eyes. He turned around and summoned his personal eunuch: "Go, keep an eye on the Zhao residence. Do not miss a single move."

Undercurrents surged wildly in unseen corners. In taverns and teahouses, storytellers slammed their gavels, embellishing tales of "generals whose merits overshadowed the emperor plotting a rebellion"; in the streets and alleys, rumors spread from nowhere that "Zhao Xuan, dissatisfied with the reduction of his power, wanted to purge the court of corrupt officials a second time." The rumors spread like a plague, and within a few days, even the children's rhymes outside Chang'an were singing, "The Xuanjia Army rebels against the capital."

Zhao Xuan stood before the bronze mirror, slowly donning the black armor that had accompanied him in battle for many years. In the mirror, his temples were already streaked with frost, but his gaze remained sharp. He gripped the sword at his waist, and as he stepped out of the mansion gate, the cold wind whipped up the fallen leaves, swirling them around his feet.

Inside the Golden Palace, the ministers whispered amongst themselves as Zhao Xuan suddenly burst in. Zhao Xuan removed his helmet and knelt heavily on the blue bricks, his armor thudding against the ground. When he looked up, his eyes were red-rimmed: "Your Majesty! I joined the army at fifteen, spending half my life on horseback guarding your territory. Now, though I have relinquished my military power, I am still framed by villains. If my life can bring Your Majesty peace and tranquility to the court, I would gladly die a thousand deaths!" Before he finished speaking, tears fell onto the cold ground, staining it dark.

The emperor rose from his dragon throne and descended the steps. He gazed at the general before him, the one who had once shielded him from a fatal sword strike, and recalled the figure who had bravely stepped forward atop Chang'an City years ago. But when he caught a glimpse of the shifty eyes of Chen Li and the others in the corner, the words he was about to utter were swallowed back. Outside the hall, the autumn wind howled, swirling fallen leaves into the hall, yet it could not dispel the stagnant air that filled the hall.

Inside the Golden Palace, the air seemed to solidify into lead. Zhao Xuan's kneeling figure confronted the emperor's fixed gaze. The entire court held its breath, only the candlelight flickering in the cold wind, casting their shadows onto the dragon pillars like menacing phantoms. Chen Li's hand, gripping his imperial tablet, trembled slightly. His peripheral vision swept over several of his accomplices, his Adam's apple bobbing laboredly—their meticulously woven web of rumors now awaited the emperor's judgment.

In this suffocating stalemate, hurried footsteps suddenly sounded outside the hall, accompanied by the soft clinking of armor. A young eunuch in a short blue jacket stumbled in, his hair ornament askew, his forehead beaded with cold sweat, and the hem of his robe stained with mud. His knees slammed heavily on the gold bricks, and he gasped for breath, barely able to utter a complete sentence: "Your...Your Majesty! Urgent...urgent report from the Northwest!"

The emperor abruptly rose from his dragon throne, his crown tassels swaying violently: "Speak!"