PFC Chapter 602
Chapter 602
The torrential rain pelted the bluestone floor of the Prince's mansion, creating countless silver sparks. Inside, the candlelight flickered in the draft, casting shifting shadows on everyone's faces. Dongfang Wan'er's short blade was already half-drawn, its cold light grazing the eunuch's neck; the man held his long sword horizontally before his chest, the tip lifting the hem of the eunuch's peacock-blue python robe, the sound of tearing fabric mingling with the patter of rain on banana leaves. The jade pendant at the Prince of Zhennan's waist swayed slightly with his breath, his right hand resting on the scabbard, the veins on his forehead bulging slightly with suppressed tension.
Just at this critical moment, a sudden, chaotic sound of horses' hooves echoed outside the Prince's residence, pounding on everyone's tense nerves like a drumbeat. The Prince of Zhennan's pupils constricted, and he raised his hand to signal to his hidden guards. Twelve black-clad guards darted out like ghosts, the copper bells on the eaves tinkling softly as they passed, disappearing into the rain in an instant. Dongfang Wan'er keenly noticed the barely perceptible tremor in the Prince of Zhennan's fingertips—this usually composed prince was now unable to conceal his nervousness.
In the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, a bodyguard burst into the hall, soaking wet, water droplets from his hair leaving dark stains on the blue bricks. "Your Highness!" he knelt on one knee, his breath coming in short gasps, "The Imperial Censor requests an audience, saying he has important matters to discuss!" Before he finished speaking, hurried footsteps came from under the eaves, and a middle-aged official in a robe adorned with a mythical beast strode in, his official boots splashing water as they stepped across the threshold, followed by two clerks carrying sandalwood boxes.
A glint of shrewdness flashed in the Prince of Zhennan's eyes. He raised his hand, signaling everyone to calm down. The Imperial Censor, before even wiping the rain from his face, hastily bowed, the ivory tablet at his waist striking his court robes with a dull thud. "Your Highness! I just received an urgent report from my spies in Jiangnan, delivered by express messenger. This message conveying the Emperor's decree may be a trap!" Before he could finish speaking, the clerk had already opened the sandalwood box, revealing a yellowed secret letter and half a broken tiger tally inside. "Three days ago, the late Emperor's personal eunuch died mysteriously, and this eunuch..." The Imperial Censor suddenly pointed to the pale-faced man, "...was working as a servant at the Drunken Spring Pavilion in the capital just half a month ago!"
The Prince of Zhennan's fingers trembled slightly as he received the secret letter. In the candlelight, the densely packed, tiny characters on the letter seemed to tell a shocking story of conspiracy. The letter not only detailed the origins of the forged imperial edict but also mentioned the secret seals of several court officials. When he saw the last sentence, "The late emperor's edict is currently hidden...", he abruptly looked up, his gaze sweeping across the room like a hawk's.
"Don't make false accusations! This is slander!" the eunuch suddenly screamed, his gilded whisk crackling as he flicked it, a glint of silver needles flashing in his sleeve. But his trembling voice betrayed his inner fear. The censor sneered, pulling a roll of yellow silk from his sleeve, upon which was prominently displayed a tattered "Emperor's Seal": "This is a forged seal found this morning on a death row inmate in the Ministry of Justice prison. Would you like to compare it with the gold medal you carry?"
The Prince of Zhennan slammed the secret letter heavily on the table, the jade table emitting a dull thud. He turned to face his ashen-faced eunuch, his black python robe fluttering in the wind: "Eunuch, since there are so many suspicious points in this matter, these two will remain in the Prince's residence for now. I will investigate thoroughly. If it is truly the Emperor's decree, I will personally apologize!" Before he finished speaking, the hidden guards had already silently surrounded him, the sound of crossbows being cocked clearly audible in the silent hall.
Dongfang Wan'er exchanged a glance with the man, her heart easing slightly. The rain outside the window gradually subsided, and a sliver of dawn appeared on the horizon, but it couldn't dispel the gloom hanging over the Prince's mansion. As the candlelight flickered, the mystery surrounding the late emperor's edict grew ever more perplexing, and a hidden hand seemed to be orchestrating an even larger scheme.
As dusk settled, the rain, carrying a salty, damp scent, soaked through the vermilion walls of the Prince's mansion. Just as the Prince of Zhennan gently pushed the sandalwood box before the Imperial Censor, the candlelight reflecting off the gilded dragon pattern on the box's surface, a piercing scream suddenly erupted from the rear courtyard. The sound tore through the rain like a poisoned dart stabbing into everyone's eardrums, followed by the clanging of metal against metal, mixed with sporadic curses, raining down like a sudden downpour.
The jade belt at the Prince of Zhennan's waist suddenly jingled softly. He abruptly rose, his black brocade robe sweeping over the teacups on the table. The bronze lampstand, shaking violently, scattered sparks, casting a ferocious red hue on his taut jawline: "Secret guards, accompany me to investigate!" Before his words were finished, the hem of his robe, embroidered with golden python patterns, swept through the wind and swept out onto the porch. The bronze bells on the eaves jingled wildly in the rain. Amidst the tinkling sounds, Dongfang Wan'er and the man in white exchanged a glance—the hilt of the sword hidden in his sleeve bulged slightly, while the soft blade at her wrist had already quietly slipped into her palm.
Turning through the winding corridor, the stench of blood mingled with the rain assaulted the senses. More than twenty men in black, their faces soaked through, wielded steel scimitars that gleamed with a chilling blue light. The palace guards, forming a shield line, struggled to hold their ground. Dark red bloodstains snaked across the flagstones, spreading into eerie peach blossom shapes in the rain. The Prince of Zhennan drew his longsword, its roar startling crows perched under the eaves. Where the blade swept across, the men's headscarves were shredded, revealing the uniform scorpion tattoos behind their left ears.
The Imperial Censor's white beard trembled in the rain, his withered fingers gripping the copper rings of the sandalwood box tightly. Behind him, clerks formed a human wall with oil-paper umbrellas, their surfaces riddled with arrows. "Protect the imperial edict!" the old man's hoarse cry was swallowed by the rain, his cloudy eyes scanning the battlefield warily—the assassins were ruthless, each strike aimed at the guards' vital points; they were clearly well-trained assassins.
In the chaos of battle, a dark figure moved swiftly along the wall like a ghost. As he leaped towards the young clerk carrying the sandalwood box, the soft blade on Dongfang Wan'er's wrist flashed like a snake. A flash of cold light forced the man in black to parry, sparks flying in the rain, leaving delicate golden-red fragments. But in the instant her gaze shifted slightly, a chilling sensation suddenly ran down the back of her neck.
As the white-clad man's black iron sword pierced the air, Dongfang Wan'er could even see the water droplets dripping from its tip. The black-clad man's sneak attack with his short blade barely grazed her ear, severing a few strands of her hair. The deafening clang of metal against metal made her eardrums ache. Looking up, she saw the man's brows furrowed, his thin lips pressed into a cold, hard line, the tip of his sword pressed just three inches from the black-clad man's throat.
As the sound of the gong pierced the rain and mist at dawn, the last man in black coughed up a jet of blood. The Prince of Zhennan stood leaning on his sword, the python pattern on his chest grotesquely stained with blood. Corpses lay scattered on the ground, swollen in the rain, the rain washing over the blades, yet unable to cleanse the nauseatingly sweet, stench in the air. The Imperial Censor trembled as he opened the sandalwood box; the yellowed imperial edict fluttered in the wind, the ink untouched by a single drop of rain.
"The late emperor's calligraphy has been preserved..." Before the old man could finish speaking, the Prince of Zhennan had already bent down and picked up half of the blood-stained waist token. The bronze token was engraved with the two characters "Tian Shu," and dark red rust was visible at the edge of the broken piece, clearly a token of the secret guard organization that had been destroyed by the court many years ago. He looked at the gradually whitening sky, raindrops rolling down his jawline, mingling with bloodstains and falling into the cracks of the bluestone slabs: "Drown the body in the river tonight. From this day forward, the Prince's mansion will be guarded every three steps." His hoarse voice suppressed the deathly silence before the storm.
The darkness before dawn was thick and inky. The Prince of Zhennan's knuckles were white from clenching his fists, the bones appearing bluish-white in the dim lantern light. The sharp edge of the half-bronze waist token was deeply embedded in his palm, blood trickling down the lines, staining the two characters "Tian Shu" even more crimson. Memories surged like a tide—twenty years ago, this assassination organization, which had once struck fear into the hearts of the court, vanished in a meticulously planned siege, but now, like a lurking viper, it had returned with a vengeance.
"Your Highness!" The sound of hurried footsteps broke the silence. A guard knelt on one knee, his black uniform covered in mud, and blood was still seeping from the wound on his forehead. "There has been some unusual activity in the rooms of several concubines in the mansion. It seems that an assassin has infiltrated!" Before he finished speaking, the sound of porcelain shattering came from afar, which was particularly jarring in the rainy night.
The deep furrows between the Prince of Zhennan's brows were so pronounced they could trap a fly. He abruptly tucked his waist token into his sleeve, the splattered blood blooming into tiny flowers on the blue bricks: "Miss Dongfang, Young Master in White, I request that you both check on the safety of the concubines. I will continue my investigation into the mastermind behind 'Tian Shu'." His gaze swept over the two men, as if entrusting them with both trust and responsibility.
Dongfang Wan'er and the man in white exchanged a glance and nodded in tacit agreement. They walked through the damp corridor, where lanterns swayed in the wind, casting flickering shadows. Faint sobs drifted from afar, drawing them to quicken their pace like threads. As soon as they stepped into the Linglong Pavilion, the residence of the concubine, a strong stench of blood assaulted their senses.
Several guards lay sprawled in the courtyard, blood still gushing from wounds on their necks. Dongfang Wan'er held her breath, a short blade silently sliding into her hand. Following the faint cries for help, the two pushed open the carved wooden door. Inside, the flickering candlelight illuminated a horrifying scene: Consort Yun was bound to a grand chair with thick hemp ropes, her hairpin askew, her face streaked with tears; several maids lay slumped on the floor, foam at the mouth, clearly drugged.
"Help me! There's a bad guy!" Consort Yun struggled desperately when she saw the newcomer, her jeweled headdress jingling. The white-clad man flashed forward, his long sword slicing through the ropes with fluid movements. Dongfang Wan'er, however, remained vigilant. Her gaze swept over the disheveled dressing table—the rouge box lay overturned on the floor, but a fresh fingerprint remained, as if someone had deliberately covered something up.
"Watch out!" the white-clad man suddenly shouted. Before his words even finished, four dark figures swooped down from the roof beam. The curved blades in the black-clad men's hands gleamed with a ghostly blue light, clearly poisoned. A fight erupted instantly, tables and chairs were overturned, and the sounds of shattering porcelain mingled with the clang of clashing weapons. Dongfang Wan'er dodged the oncoming blade, catching a glimpse of the black-clad men's footwork out of the corner of her eye—completely different from their earlier encounter in the backyard. This style seemed ruthless, yet always left some room for maneuver at vital points.
Her short blade clashed with the men in black, but she noticed a weakness in their movements. When one of them made a move, half a strip of dark red cloth slipped from his sleeve, revealing a faintly visible embroidered twin lotus flower pattern—clearly the kind of embroidery commonly used on the clothing of the royal family's concubines! Dongfang Wan'er's heart skipped a beat, but her attacks became even more ferocious, determined to extract the truth from these men.
Dongfang Wan'er's thoughts raced in a flash. Her fingertips touched the still-wet blood on the short blade, the sticky sensation causing a bead of sweat to form on the back of her neck. Just then, a whooshing sound rang out, and a dark figure, accompanied by a stench of blood, rushed in, its curved blade aimed straight for her throat. In the nick of time, the white-clad man's black iron sword flashed like a half-moon, and amidst the surging sword energy, the two weapons clashed, sparking dazzling flashes.
"Watch out!" The white-clad man's warning rang out amidst the clanging of metal. His robes fluttered in the fight, yet his swordplay remained as steady as a rock. Taking advantage of the moment, Dongfang Wan'er spun around, using the wreckage of tables and chairs as cover, and silently circled behind a man in black. A short blade pressed against his neck, its cold touch causing the man in black to stiffen: "Speak, who sent you!"
The man in black let out a muffled groan, his Adam's apple bobbing beneath the blade. He turned his head, revealing his scarred profile, his eyes filled with ruthlessness, and suddenly threw his head back and laughed: "Want the answer? In your next life!" Before he finished speaking, Dongfang Wan'er felt a jolt in the veins of her palm—the man in black had bitten open the poison sac hidden between his teeth! She hurriedly withdrew her knife and retreated, dark green poisonous blood dripping from the corner of her mouth, corroding the blue bricks and creating wisps of white smoke.
The atmosphere inside the room froze instantly. Consort Yun huddled in the corner, her gold-embroidered dress covered in dust, the pearl hairpin in her hair trembling and swaying: "Don't kill me, I don't know anything..." Her pale fingertips gripped the hem of her dress tightly, but when Dongfang Wan'er's gaze swept over her, the panic that flashed deep in her beautiful eyes was more glaring than the thunder outside.
The rain suddenly intensified, and the copper bells on the eaves jingled wildly in the wind. The Prince of Zhennan's roar pierced the rain: "I'll see who's behind this!" The carved wooden door burst open, and dozens of guards, swords drawn, filed in. Water droplets dripping from their black uniforms formed small streams on the ground. The jade pendant at the Prince of Zhennan's waist swayed slightly with his rapid breathing. His gaze swept over the mess, finally settling on Consort Yun's contorted face.
"Your Highness, these people's moves are strange." Dongfang Wan'er bent down and picked up half a dark red strip of cloth, the embroidered twin lotus flowers glowing eerily in the candlelight. "And compared to the assassins in the backyard, they deliberately held back, it's more like..." Before she could finish speaking, Consort Yun suddenly trembled violently, her nails digging deeply into her palms: "Your Majesty, I really didn't know anything!" But in her trembling voice, there was a panic more pungent than poison.
The Prince of Zhennan abruptly drew his sword, its cold gleam pressed against Consort Yun's throat: "You'd better tell the truth, or else..." The sword sliced through her skin, blood dripping down her dress, spreading like a bewitching red plum blossom. Consort Yun's legs gave way, and she collapsed to the ground, her jewels and ornaments scattered everywhere. Finally, she could no longer maintain her facade, tears mingling with rouge, carving deep furrows into her face: "It's...it's His Highness the Crown Prince...he said that as long as the imperial edict is destroyed..." Her cries were shattered by thunder, and through the rain outside, the distant sound of drums from the direction of the palace seemed to drift, muffled like a death knell.
The veins on the Prince of Zhennan's hand, gripping the sword hilt, bulged, and his knuckles turned bluish-white from excessive force. The glow of the gilded candlestick flickered on his face, making the raging anger in his eyes seem like a volcano about to erupt.
Before he finished speaking, he suddenly turned around, his gaze piercing as he looked at Dongfang Wan'er and the man in white: "You two will also come with me to bear witness." In the rain, the group mounted their horses, the thunderous sound of hooves splashing water across the cobblestone path. The downpour soaked their robes, but it couldn't extinguish the anger in their hearts.