Chapter 1638: If the Wude Office is like this, what of the Palace City Office?

"Tell me yourself, how should I deal with you?" After a moment of thought, Emperor Liu asked again without any emotion, his gaze equally cold.

This question was like opening a valve, and Wang Yinwu's fear poured out completely. He kowtowed incessantly, his head pounding against the floor with a thudding sound, bloodying his forehead and leaving him dizzy, all the while muttering: "Your servant deserves death! Your servant deserves death!"

Perhaps ten times, perhaps twenty, perhaps more—until Wang Yinwu was on the verge of losing consciousness, Emperor Liu finally barked with some impatience: "Enough!"

At these words, Wang Yinwu finally stopped his somewhat frantic movements. Blood trickled down his cheeks, staining the clean floor with a layer of gore. His mind hazy, he spoke purely on instinct: "Your servant deserves ten thousand deaths for defiling the imperial hall. I beg Your Majesty to punish me..."

Squinting slightly, Emperor Liu stared at Wang Yinwu for a while, then said coldly: "Get out!"

Wang Yinwu didn't react in time, and said in a daze: "Your Majesty, your servant, your servant..."

"Do you intend to kowtow yourself to death in this hall, to win loyalty through death?" Emperor Liu rebuked.

These words seemed to bring Wang Yinwu a glimmer of hope. A hint of brightness returned to his somewhat murky eyes, and he bowed again: "Your servant would rather die! Your Majesty!"

"It seems I truly cannot command you anymore!" Emperor Liu's words were truly terrifying.

Wang Yinwu was at a loss, not knowing what to do with himself. After trembling for a moment, he struggled to rise, and bowed with blood and tears flowing together: "Your servant... takes his leave?"

Emperor Liu did not respond, merely staring straight at him with a gaze full of icy coldness. Only when Wang Yinwu was about to collapse did he finally say flatly: "In consideration of your voluntarily confessing and begging for mercy, I will spare your life for now!"

"Thank you, Your Majesty!" Wang Yinwu was instantly overcome with excitement upon hearing this. Wiping away the flowing blood and tears, he hurriedly bowed in gratitude.

"Don't be in such a hurry to thank me! This matter isn't over. Your head is merely on loan to you for the time being. Whether you can keep it depends on your performance from here on!" Emperor Liu said coldly: "Clean yourself up, go find a physician to tend your wounds. This matter must not leak out—how to keep it secret, you figure it out yourself!"

"Yes!" Wang Yinwu nodded repeatedly: "Then what about Chancellor Lu's side..."

"Is that what you should be concerned about? I see you're still living in a dream!" Emperor Liu's tone shifted abruptly.

Wang Yinwu shuddered, his lips trembling: "Your servant, your servant—"

"Get out!" Emperor Liu spat out the word "get out" again with characteristic crudeness.

"Yes!" Wang Yinwu responded in disgrace.

"Also, investigate the Hexi matter thoroughly for me. Handle it well and we'll talk about other things later. Handle it poorly, and you can make your own funeral arrangements!" Emperor Liu emphasized.

"Your servant... understands!"

Tidying himself up somewhat, Wang Yinwu fled Chongzheng Hall as if escaping death itself, covering his face as he went out. Another wave of dizziness struck him, and his figure swayed involuntarily; he had to brace himself against the pillars of the hall's platform to steady himself.

It was already past noon, and the sun still hung high in the sky. Emperor Liu's furious reaction had not been entirely unexpected, but the fact that he had walked out of Chongzheng Hall alive despite that fury still gave him a sense of unreality.

Blood seeped from his forehead, tears welled in his eyes, sweat soaked his back, and even his crotch had grown damp—Wang Yinwu had truly been scared out of his wits just now.

The facts proved that Wang Yinwu was still afraid of death. It was only to seize a slim chance at survival that he had forcibly suppressed his fear and dared to brave that threshold of life and death. For now, he had merely won one gamble.

Even having passed through that gate of ghosts, recalling the scene of his audience with the Emperor still filled Wang Yinwu with lingering terror. At this moment, if he could do it over again, he might not choose to confess to Emperor Liu—it had required immense resolve and courage, and after this ordeal, all of Wang Yinwu's nerve had been nearly worn away.

Still, the head on his neck was ultimately preserved, even if only temporarily. And in order to hold on to that thread of survival, Wang Yinwu would likely exert himself even more from now on, daring not to hold anything back when facing Emperor Liu.

At the same time, a trace of resentment was fermenting in his heart. Of course, this could not be directed at Emperor Liu—so it could only be aimed at Lu Duoxun.

Although many problems often originate with oneself, those who are good at self-reflection and finding fault in themselves are ultimately few in this world. On the contrary, shifting blame onto others is far easier, and far more self-comforting.

In Wang Yinwu's view, it was Lu Duoxun who had dragged him into the water, and it was Lu Duoxun who had brought this danger upon him. With this understanding, an emotion called jealousy and hatred filled Wang Yinwu's heart, devouring his soul.

Lu Duoxun and Wang Yinwu, this pair of close friends, this pair of allies, had gone from being inseparable to estranged and faithless, and then to outright enmity—all within the span of just a few short days, completing a thorough transformation.

The affairs of the world are hard to predict, and human hearts are hard to fathom. The development of events can always make one's jaw drop. Having just experienced such great terror, Wang Yinwu's mind was now full of thoughts—besides resolutely and completely carrying out Emperor Liu's orders to seek forgiveness, perhaps he also wanted to see what kind of end Lu Duoxun would meet. He had temporarily passed one trial; as for Lu Duoxun, judging by Emperor Liu's tone and attitude just now, Lu Duoxun would absolutely not come off well either.

He, Wang Yinwu, had foolishly involved himself in court factional strife, in the struggle for chancellorial power—that was certainly a grave taboo. But Lu Duoxun, as a chancellor himself, privately forming cliques and colluding with the Wude Office—was that not also a path to self-destruction?

Wang Yinwu's speculation was not wrong. At this moment, Emperor Liu was indeed filled with rage—both at Wang Yinwu and at Lu Duoxun.

In all these years, he had never been so dissatisfied and disgusted with Lu Duoxun as he was now, to the point of even harboring murderous intent. In the past, no matter how unwise Lu Duoxun had been, it had remained within the limits of his tolerance; no matter how he had contended with Zhao Pu, it had all been within reasonable bounds.

But colluding with the Wude Office was clearly a matter of crossing the bottom line and violating taboos. And for Emperor Liu, whoever violated his taboos could forget about having a good ending.

How could an intelligence agency like the Wude Office become a tool in court political struggles, used to strike at political opponents? Such a situation was equally vile in nature, and it was something Emperor Liu deeply abhorred and had always been vigilant against.

If Wang Yinwu had merely come to report that Lu Duoxun was plotting against Zhao Pu, perhaps he might have held back a little, watched the show, and sat back to see them fight it out.

But when the Wude Office became involved as well, thoughts of destruction swirled in his mind—both to clean out Lu Duoxun, and at the same time, to purge and reorganize the Wude Office.

What Wang Yinwu did not know was that his head, as Emperor Liu had said, was merely on loan to his neck. His fate had already been decided in Emperor Liu's heart. Perhaps from the moment he had colluded with Lu Duoxun, it had already been sealed—his voluntarily confessing and begging for mercy before Emperor Liu would not be enough to absolve him of guilt or spare him from death.

Inside Chongzheng Hall, Yan Tuo led two palace eunuchs kneeling on the ground, carefully cleaning up the residual bloodstains, not daring to make any loud noise.

Emperor Liu, meanwhile, stood to the side, staring at a chart—a chart of the court's personnel structure. Zhao Pu's name sat at the very top, and Emperor Liu's gaze swept past the names of Lu Duoxun, Zhao Kuangyi, Wang Zhe, and other ministers, his eyes icy and fearsome. On Zhao Pu's name, his gaze lingered the longest.

"Go fetch Zhang Dejun for me!" After a long while, Emperor Liu ordered.

"Yes!"

Now, in Emperor Liu's view, the Wude Office could no longer be trusted at all. Reflecting silently, the problem still lay in his choice of personnel.

If Li Chongju were still in office, then this kind of problem would absolutely not have arisen—probably. Such a thought flashed through Emperor Liu's mind, but soon, that trace of regret was extinguished by Emperor Liu himself. How could his decisions have problems? At most, he had been too casual when appointing Wang Yinwu in the first place.

On the other hand, his suspicious nature forced Emperor Liu to wonder—if the Wude Office was like this, then what about the Palace City Office? Could Zhang Dejun also be colluding with the ministers?

Eunuchs and household servants colluding with outside officials was hardly anything new. Zhang Dejun was clever, but the cleverer a man is, the more spectacularly foolish he can be—far beyond what ordinary people are capable of.

And the first person Emperor Liu suspected was Zhao Pu.