Chapter 209: The Death Penalty for Clan Extermination
What is this little eunuch babbling about? Li Chen felt his head spin, a roaring noise echoing in his ears. His heart was like a shadow driven back by harsh sunlight, yearning desperately to hide in some deep ravine. The eunuch claimed the emperor knew of his collusion with Gesang Meiduo? That the emperor's hemorrhage and collapse were caused by him? Yet, after all that, the emperor crowned the crown prince and appointed Li Ce as his aide, never once punishing him. Later, when he conspired with Gesang Meiduo in the Jinzhou crossbow incident, the emperor confined the crown prince and entrusted Li Ce with the investigation—placing the entire imperial city under his command. The emperor clearly relied on him, letting him govern in his stead; how then could he have been made ill by anger? How could the emperor have discovered his dealings with Gesang Meiduo...?
Even paler than Li Chen was Lu Yi.
"The Tibetan delegation? Gesang Meiduo?" he whispered, struggling to keep his fury from exploding. The imperial guards had stepped aside; the eunuch who reported the matter knelt, face ashen. Lu Yi fixed his gaze on Li Chen, and when the latter remained silent, he asked, "Does Consort Shu know of these affairs?"
Of course she did. His mother had commanded him to spare no means. If ruthless means were warranted, then all forces that could be exploited must be leveraged to seize the throne. But now the emperor knew—what then? Moreover, Bai Fanxi had gone to Jinzhou. Should the investigation reveal the crossbow incident was a setup, and expose the killings as his doing, framing the crown prince to sow chaos in Jinzhou...
For a long time, Li Chen had to restrain himself to keep from trembling.
The wind stirred. It brushed his forehead, and the morning chill suddenly cleared his mind.
"Consort Shu knows," he murmured to Lu Yi, "and she will aid me."
"Aid you in what?" Lu Yi's stout frame seemed to shrink in an instant, his whole being shrinking into confusion, mingled with reluctant despair. "You should enter now, beg the emperor's pardon, confess you were beguiled by Gesang Meiduo, and repent your treason. When Li Long plotted the Prince of Xianchen's rebellion, His Majesty only confined him. If the clan pleads for you, we will petition His Majesty to grant you a fief far from the capital."
This was the sole recourse Lu Yi could conceive amid the chaos. He could not guarantee the emperor's mercy, but he dreaded Li Chen foolishly dragging the entire Lu clan down with him.
"No." Li Chen steadied his body, standing erect. The blood drained from his face, revealing the regal defiance of a prince.
"Father pardoned Li Long because he never cared for the Prince of Xianchen's fate. But Li Zhang is different—Father favors him!" He shook his head slowly, each motion more resolute than the last. "We are but one step from victory. The matter has been exposed; Father will no longer punish the crown prince. To kneel here and plead for mercy only to be imprisoned for life? Lu Bo, I would rather die."
He addressed Lu Yi with the clan's honorific.
"Whatever Lu Bo chooses, I will not interfere. But today, I shall not yield."
Li Chen seemed to stand within the depths of hell itself, grasping the only escape from torment—a desperate gamble.
Lu Yi stepped forward, trembling lips reaching for Li Chen, who brushed him off with a raised sleeve.
"Victory belongs to those who strike, not those struck!" Li Chen declared. "Guards!"
The imperial soldiers obeyed swiftly.
"Seal off the Nanxun Hall. Protect His Majesty. No one is to enter or exit under any circumstance."
The soldiers hesitated briefly, then responded in unison and dispersed.
Li Chen glanced toward the eastern palace and strode forward briskly. Lu Yi hurried to catch up.
The morning sun cast their shadows upon the red walls, intertwining indistinctly.
"What will Your Highness do?" Lu Yi asked.
"The crown prince rebels and forces the throne," Li Chen roared. "I shall lead the imperial guards, carry His Majesty's orders, annihilate the traitors, restore order in chaos, and uphold the realm!"
"You..." Lu Yi halted, hand clutching his chest. He watched Li Chen's retreating figure grow smaller and smaller.
That moment stretched endlessly—longer than the Lu clan's decades of loyal service to two emperors, yet never entering the core of power.
If Li Chen failed, could the Lu clan remain unscathed? No—it meant clan extermination, a capital offense.
Lu Yi's feet seemed nailed to the ground, immovable, but his soul quivered with exhilaration, inching like a bloodthirsty leech toward Li Chen.
Finally, he called out, "Wait!"
He quickened his pace. Their shadows merged again on the red wall.
"Lu Bo," Li Chen asked, "are you not afraid of being implicated by me?"
"I am over fifty," Lu Yi gritted his teeth, voice forced from deep within his throat, "I have lived enough. Better to gamble before death."
"I dare wager—" Shui Wen, the maid who accompanied Ye Jiao on her tour of the Prince of Chu's mansion, raised her hand excitedly, "those peach trees are planted for the lady."
"No one's betting with you," limping Feng Jie joined cheerfully, "Isn't it obvious? Besides peaches, there are pear, jujube, pomegranate, and loquat trees—all so the lady can feast on seasonal fruits without leaving the mansion."
"Pfft," Ye Jiao folded her arms and walked ahead, feigning indifference, "Who cares? If I want fruit, I can buy it at the market. Building an orchard steals space from the training grounds. No room for archery or martial arts practice."
"That's His Highness's prudence," Feng Jie whispered, "The Prince of Chu's mansion isn't like ours, a martial family. Training the body is indispensable. It's unreasonable for him to make a training ground within the residence."
This man was meticulous, thorough, without a single oversight.
The mansion's steward and servants had yet to arrive. Craftsmen were finishing the final touches.
They recognized the future mistress of the Prince of Chu's estate and treated her with utmost respect, soon drawing the master craftsman's attention.
The master craftsman was the overseer of construction, around forty years old, not wearing official robes. His sharp gaze fixated intently, as if scrutinizing. Holding a third-rank official post, he outranked Ye Jiao.
He personally guided Ye Jiao through the mansion.
"Wedding day is still over ten days away. Before departing, the Prince of Chu arranged many furnishings. If Lady Ye dislikes any, I shall send for replacements."
Ye Jiao politely accepted, praising the mansion's elegant grandeur and flourishing gardens.
The master craftsman modestly responded, then pointed out which direction to view the rockery shaped like a deer; the nearest path to the bridge at the lake's center; the spot for archery, shooting from one side of the lake to the other, more entertaining than the training ground; explained that the gate pillars were built per mansion standards and could not be altered; the spacious front hall; the study next to the main chamber, close to the sleeping quarters; and that the kitchen was prepared days ago—today she could sample dishes and request changes if unsatisfied.
He spoke at length, until Ye Jiao sensed something amiss.
Was the master craftsman so idle? A third-rank official should attend court regularly.
Yet these days, Ye Jiao never saw him there.
Today, while absent from court to stroll the mansion, the master craftsman appeared unexpectedly.
She asked him outright.
"Preparing so thoroughly, it seems you're waiting here for me?"
The master craftsman smiled, surprised, and candidly said, "Before leaving, His Highness instructed me that Lady Ye might come. If you do, stay awhile—no rush to return."
Stay awhile, no rush to return... the words felt like a deliberate command.
Ye Jiao glanced outside.
"Was there anything unusual at the morning court?" she probed.
"Morning court?" The master craftsman looked puzzled, "I've been focused on repairs, haven't attended morning court for some time. What could happen at court? Prince Wei handles all affairs meticulously—nothing unusual."
Ye Jiao took a few steps with him, then stopped abruptly, unease filling her heart.
The emperor lay ill in the palace—no one knew how he fared.
"No need to sample the food," Ye Jiao bowed to the master craftsman, "I have other matters; I must take my leave."
She turned to leave, but before reaching the front hall, a figure rushed toward her, guided by a craftsman.
From his attire, he appeared to be a low-ranking imperial guard. The breeze carried an aura of danger.
"What has happened?" Ye Jiao stepped forward.
The young guard dropped to one knee.
"I am a pigeon keeper at Feinu Garden. I received a message from the deputy commander's homing pigeon but could not find him. When I asked at the Yan residence, they drove me away. I circled the Yan residence and heard fighting in the east wing—heard the deputy commander's voice. I..."
The guard gasped for breath, wiping sweat from his brow in haste.
"I wanted to fetch reinforcements, but no one would listen. I met Sixth Prince; he said if there's trouble, find Lady Ye—that's the surest way."
"Sixth Prince?" Ye Jiao didn't recognize whom he meant.
"The Sixth Prince," the guard replied.
"How does he know I'm here?" Ye Jiao asked, already quickening her pace
toward the east wing.
The guard scrambled to his feet and hurried after her.
The wind at Feinu Garden carried a chill.
That morning's tranquility was shattered.