PFC Chapter 566
Chapter 566
Her voice, hoarse from illness, carried an undeniable authority. In the study late at night, the candlelight flickered as she meticulously examined the intelligence sent by her spies. Finally, she discovered a clue in a shop transaction record—the silk shop in the west of the city had purchased three hundred cartloads of tung oil within three months.
Meanwhile, outside Yanmen Pass, a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood had fallen. The Regent cleaved open an enemy general's helmet with his sword, the splattering blood staining his goggles crimson. The Northern Frontier cavalry, with their superior horses and scimitars, pushed the defensive line back step by step. Just as the battle reached a stalemate, thick black smoke suddenly rose from the northwest sky—Dongfang Wan'er, leading a hundred elite warriors disguised as a merchant caravan, had infiltrated behind enemy lines and set fire to a valley where provisions were stored!
The firelight illuminated the Regent's face, and he raised his arm and shouted, "Soldiers, now is the time to kill the enemy and serve the country!" With this command, the exhausted soldiers charged into the enemy ranks like tigers descending a mountain. The Northern Frontier Commander, staring at the towering flames, lost all color in his face and, in his panic, was struck down from his horse by the Regent's spear.
On the day the news of victory reached the capital, Dongfang Wan'er was leaning against the window taking her medicine. The medicine was bitter, but it couldn't compare to the coldness in her eyes. Gazing at the wild geese flying south in the sky, she murmured softly, "This battle is just the beginning." Meanwhile, a thousand miles away, the victorious Regent stroked his blood-stained sword, secretly pondering: the turbulent court was far more dangerous than the enemies on the battlefield.
In late spring, willow catkins drifted through the capital. Layers of palace lanterns hung from the eaves of the Forbidden City, illuminating the victory banquet as if it were daytime. The Regent, dressed in black robes and a jade belt, stood atop the steps, his jade wine cup reflecting a cold light. As he laughed, the vermilion mark between his brows trembled slightly, drawing the court officials to him like stars surrounding the moon. Amidst the clinking of cups, praises flowed like a spring tide over the carved beams and painted rafters. Flattering words like "The Regent's strategy is divine" and "This victory will surely be recorded in history" echoed between the gilded dragon pillars.
Dongfang Wan'er leaned against a vermilion-lacquered bench in the west corridor, her white robes stained with streaks of unmelted snow, a stark contrast to the surrounding festivities. Her fingertips traced the black iron token at her waist, the tiger tally bestowed upon her by the late emperor, now gleaming coldly in the candlelight. Three days ago, it was with this token that she led three thousand Xuanjia soldiers in a surprise attack on the enemy's supply camp, turning the tide of battle amidst the raging flames. Yet now, this woman of such illustrious achievements was an outsider at this victory celebration.
"Your Majesty! I have a memorial to present!" A sudden shout pierced the noise. Zhou Xianzhang, the Vice Minister of Revenue, staggered out from the crowd, his ivory tablet trembling. The cloud and goose insignia on his official robes heaved violently with his movements. "Dongfang Wan'er, a mere woman, has dared to overstep the bounds of propriety and seize military power. This is a blatant trampling on the laws of our ancestors!"
The banquet hall fell into a deathly silence; even the wisps of smoke rising from the bronze incense burner in the corridor seemed to freeze in the air. Everyone's gazes were like needles pricking their backs, but Dongfang Wan'er seemed oblivious. She calmly placed her teacup on the rosewood table, the celadon porcelain clinking against the wood. As she rose, the soft sword concealed within her wide sleeves rustled against the brocade. Her long, ink-black hair was casually tied back with a plain silver hairpin, a few stray strands falling beside her pale cheeks, adding to her cold and aloof beauty.
"Does Lord Zhou know how your beloved concubine cried and begged to flee to Jiangnan on the day the enemy breached the city?" Dongfang Wan'er's voice was as cold as ice. "While you gentlemen were reciting poetry in your studies, the people outside the city were being trampled into mincemeat by the enemy's iron cavalry. If we had rigidly adhered to the rule that 'women should not interfere in politics,' this victory celebration would probably have to be held in the enemy's tents right now!" She raised her hand and pulled open her collar, revealing a gruesome arrow wound on her collarbone. "This was left during the breakout on the seventh day. If Lord Zhou feels it's not enough, Wan'er has many more 'unconventional' scars to show you."
The entire assembly was stunned. Zhou Xianzhang's face flushed crimson, yet he could find no further rebuttal. Just then, the Regent walked in, bathed in the moonlight that shimmered like shattered jade. His dark robe swept across the scattered fruit pits. He raised his hand to signal for silence, his voice booming like a bell: "General Dongfang was appointed to a critical mission and decisively defeated the enemy with a brilliant strategy. Can such an achievement be erased with a mere 'not following the rules'? If adhering to old ways can ensure the peace and security of the nation, then I would like to ask, have all the Confucian classics you have been reading been fed to the stray dogs outside the court?"
These words carried weight, and Zhou Xianzhang staggered back a few steps, nearly falling. As the Regent took his seat, the atmosphere in the banquet hall gradually eased. The music resumed, but with a more cautious tone. Dongfang Wan'er gazed at the shimmering moonlight reflected in her cup, a mocking smile playing on her lips—she knew all too well that this impeachment was merely a prelude to a test; the real storm was likely lurking deeper behind the clouds.
Night had fallen, and the shadows cast by the palace walls stretched long on the ground. Dongfang Wan'er walked alone on her way back to her residence when she suddenly heard familiar footsteps behind her. The Regent Prince, carrying a palace lantern, caught up with her, the dim light overlapping their shadows: "Beware of the undercurrents in the court. I will protect you." His voice was deep and gentle, exceptionally clear in the quiet night.
Dongfang Wan'er stopped, gazing at the majestic palace in the distance, brightly lit yet rife with undercurrents of tension. She gently shook her head, her hair fluttering in the night breeze: "I appreciate Your Highness's kindness. But survival in this deep palace has always depended solely on the swiftness of one's own sword and the ruthlessness of one's methods." With that, she turned and left, the moonlight casting a long shadow of her back, like a drawn sword, its chilling edge gleaming in the darkness. And beneath this seemingly peaceful night, a far greater conspiracy was quietly brewing in unseen corners…
Undercurrents
As night dew condensed into frost, Dongfang Wan'er returned to the General's Mansion, her steps shimmering like shattered jade in the moonlight. The vermilion gate slowly closed behind her, the bronze lion heads on the door knockers jingling softly, as if silently warning her. In the courtyard, the branches of the centuries-old locust tree rustled in the night wind, and amidst the swaying shadows, a dark figure flashed by like a ghost.
"My lord." The guard knelt on one knee, his voice low and sharp as a blade tempered with ice. He presented a secret letter with both hands; the edges of the letter, wrapped in parchment, were slightly curled, as if it had endured the hardships of a long journey. Dongfang Wan'er took the letter, her fingertips touching the raised patterns on the back of the paper—a secret communication code known only to her and the guard battalion.
The candlelight flickered in the gentle breeze, casting her shadow on the blue brick floor, sometimes bright, sometimes dim. Unfolding the letter, the hastily written characters appeared particularly menacing in the dim candlelight. Remnants of the Northern Frontier, colluding with court officials, sought to create chaos in the capital. Even more chilling was the fact that the mastermind behind this was connected to a powerful minister wielding considerable influence. Dongfang Wan'er's fingers tightened slightly, the letter making a soft, crisp sound in her hand. She looked up at the night sky; against the inky blackness, a few cold stars twinkled forlornly, like the hidden sharpness of an enemy.
The following morning, a tense atmosphere permeated the Golden Palace. The young emperor sat upright on the dragon throne, yet his anxiety was undeniable. Civil and military officials stood in two rows, whispering amongst themselves, occasionally casting meaningful glances at Dongfang Wan'er. Dongfang Wan'er, dressed in a plain court robe, stood tall and straight like a pine tree, a solitary peak standing firm amidst the undercurrents of the court.
"Your Majesty!" Wang Chongli, the Minister of Rites, suddenly stepped forward, his ivory tablet striking the ground with a sharp, resounding thud. "I impeach Dongfang Wan'er! Her residence is found to be secretly stockpiling a large number of weapons; she is clearly plotting a rebellion!" These words caused an uproar throughout the court. All eyes turned to Dongfang Wan'er like sharp swords, and the atmosphere in the hall instantly became tense and fraught with danger.
Dongfang Wan'er's expression remained unchanged as she stepped forward slowly. With a gentle sway of her wide sleeves, she calmly said, "Since the war in the Northern Frontier ended, the border has been temporarily at peace, but the remnants have not been eliminated and could return at any time. The weapons in the manor are all prepared to protect our homes and country and safeguard the people of the capital. If anyone uses this to make a fuss and distort the truth, I'm afraid they have ulterior motives!" Her voice was neither loud nor soft, but every word was firm and resonant, like metal striking stone, echoing for a long time in the empty hall.
“Words are meaningless!” Wang Chongli sneered. “Your Majesty, I have discovered that there are over a thousand weapons hidden in the underground chamber of Dongfang Wan’er’s residence. Isn’t that enough to prove her rebellious intentions?” As soon as he said this, the court was filled with discussion and doubts.
Just as the situation reached a stalemate, the Regent strode out. Dressed in black robes and a jade belt, he stood tall and straight, his gaze sweeping over the crowd like that of a hawk: "Your Highness, is it too hasty to conclude treason based solely on the number of weapons? The borders are not yet stable, and General Dongfang's preparations for weapons are out of loyalty. To convict him based on this would surely discourage the soldiers who have fought so hard."
However, the opposition did not subside. Led by Wang Chongli, a group of officials spoke out vehemently, their words sharp and determined to bring down Dongfang Wan'er. Standing in the hall, Dongfang Wan'er listened to these fabricated accusations, a cold smile playing on her lips. She had long anticipated that yesterday's secret letter was merely bait thrown out by the enemy, and today's impeachment was the real killing blow.
After the court session, Dongfang Wan'er stood outside the palace gates, gazing at the majestic palace in the distance. Behind the layers of palace walls, countless unspeakable schemes lay hidden. A cold wind brushed her cheeks, and she gripped the sword at her waist tightly—the flames of this palace intrigue were already raging. In this turbulent and perilous court, only with wisdom as her shield and courage as her sword could she carve a bloody path through this vortex of power and expose the mastermind behind the conspiracy to overthrow the dynasty. She knew the road ahead was fraught with thorns, but she was fearless, for behind her stood the people of the land, the mountains and rivers that had given her birth and nurtured her.