Chapter 492: Xia Cheng Shakes, the Death of Han Yue, Earth and Sky Tremble

Xia Yu’s trial has finally come to an end!

The trial began at nightfall and ended with their return to the city, lasting barely over half an hour—most of which was spent traveling; the actual time spent in the Crouching Tiger Grove totaled less than two hundred breaths.

The entire ordeal could only be described as perilous.

The Crouching Tiger Grove adjoins the city wall; the commotion from the Beast King’s battle with a Xianyang-level cultivator, combined with the surge of troops in the outer city’s central barracks, had already alarmed everyone in the city, and it was nighttime—many were already coming and going through the three city gates.

As the army sealed the gates and soldiers patrolled and searched outside, within less than two hours, the news spread rapidly throughout the city.

“Was the Second Prince in danger?”

“Is he unharmed?”

“He’s fine—narrow escape!”

“Was it a Cold Beast or a Wraith?”

It was humans—twenty-three Xianyang-level experts from the Northern Five Towns. Two battlefields appeared over the western edge of the Crouching Tiger Grove—you all saw them, right?

“Confirmed it was the Northern Five Towns?”

“How could it be false? Lady Li herself fought Yang Zun.”

“The Northern Five Towns? Kidnapping the Second Prince—they must be suicidal!”

“Kidnapping the Alliance Lord’s son, breaking the alliance and violating the pact—the Northern Five Towns are finished.”

“Lady flew into a rage—she killed fifteen on the spot. Eight fled toward Red Wood Ridge; the Hunting Division has just issued orders: no one may leave the city tonight for gathering or hunting, and all hunting parties outside have been recalled.”

“They won’t escape—Chief Secretary and Yuwen the Guardian each lead thirty thousand troops, stationed at Jinyang City and Dongchuan City. Once the news reaches them, heaven and earth will collapse!”

………………

Even as rumors ran wild in the outer city, the inner city had already fallen into deathly silence—precisely from the moment a contingent of Dragon Guard soldiers escorted Xia Yu’s imperial carriage back to the Xia Palace, the atmosphere shifted.

Chiyan Zhu Hong’s battered state was obvious to any observer; as the carriage passed along the inner city’s main avenue toward the Xia Palace, everyone who saw it turned pale and hurried home, using every connection to inquire about the situation.

Compared to the outer city, the inner city’s residents held higher authority levels, so their information channels were broader and more accurate. Learning that Xia Yu had nearly been kidnapped outside the city, they sensed an impending major event and returned to their homes, waiting for news from the Xia Palace.

Inner city, Yuan Mansion

“Mother, is the Second Prince alright?”

The mistress, Shi Lu, sat nervously in the main hall, holding her two-year-old son Yuan Yi, eagerly awaiting her husband Yuan Cheng’s return—but instead of him, her eldest son, Yuan Shao, arrived first.

Ten-year-old Yuan Shao wore a white training robe, his frame already robust, his features increasingly resembling Yuan Cheng’s. He held the hand of a five-year-old girl in a matching robe—his younger sister, Yuan Shu.

Hearing his question, Shi Lu glared at him: “How do you know? Which gossiping servant told you?”

Her husband Yuan Cheng had been promoted last year to Fifth-Rank Jinque Marquis; their status naturally rose, and the mansion’s size expanded to one thousand square meters, now housing fifty maids and a hundred attendants.

Yuan Shao, having turned ten, had long moved into a separate wing. Shi Lu assigned him six maids and fifteen attendants; the maids lived within the compound and had no chance to spread rumors, but the attendants often scouted outside for news on his behalf.

Yuan Shao shrank his head under his mother’s glare, yet stood his ground, refusing to betray the servants: “Mother, just tell me—is the Second Prince alright?”

Shi Lu had been ready to rage, but remembered her son’s close bond with the Second Prince—his concern was natural. She sighed softly: “Don’t worry—the Second Prince is unharmed, though he was frightened.”

Frightened?

Upon hearing this, Yuan Shao’s face twisted with a strange expression.

A mother knows her child best. Seeing his expression, Shi Lu instantly understood his thoughts and snapped: “The world beyond the city walls isn’t as safe as you imagine. Twenty-odd Xianyang-level cultivators launched a joint assassination—the Second Prince barely survived. How strong are you? How many guards do you have? If tonight’s target had been you, do you think you’d have fared any better?”

Twenty-odd Xianyang-level cultivators!

The servants’ rumors were fragmented at best; Yuan Shao had only heard vague whispers. Now, hearing the truth from his mother, his expression froze.

Though young, he had long studied the Xia Rituals and Regulations—he knew the cultivation ranks clearly. Xianyang-level was the highest known power in the Southern Slope’s Nine Towns. His own father, Yuan Cheng, had only just reached this realm last year.

Twenty-odd Xianyang-level cultivators joined forces to assassinate him—yet the Second Prince, barely past his second spring in cultivation, how did he survive?

Yuan Shao’s pupils widened with terror; any trace of disdain vanished from his heart.

Just then, a maid rushed into the main hall from the gate, hurried to Shi Lu, and reported: “My lady, the Marquis and the other lords have returned. Their faces were grim—they rushed straight into the Xia Palace. I tried to call the Marquis back, but he didn’t even look at me…”

“Something huge is coming.”

Hearing the maid’s words, Shi Lu’s expression hardened. She noticed the maid hesitating, as if holding something back, and demanded sharply: “Why are you stalling? Speak plainly.”

Having served as mistress for over a decade, Shi Lu carried undeniable authority. The maid, startled, no longer hesitated: “I saw Qiu Zheng carrying a woman’s corpse back. The corpse… looked like Lady Han Yue.”

Shi Lu’s face changed instantly. She leapt from her chair, voice trembling: “Are you certain?”

Not only Shi Lu—Yuan Shao’s expression also snapped to attention. He turned to the maid, eyes filled with shock and disbelief.

The maid, pinned by their stares, grew nervous, but after recalling the scene at the gate, she nodded slowly.

“Lady Han Yue visited our mansion many times. Xiao Ru has seen her before. I saw her clearly—I’m ninety percent certain it’s her.”

Ninety percent certainty—that was effectively confirmation.

Shi Lu’s face darkened with sorrow. She turned to Yuan Shao and saw her eldest son, eyes already red.

She wasn’t surprised by his reaction.

As the Second Prince grew older, Lady Li Xuanling had begun introducing him to inner-city noble youths of his age—clearly preparing him for succession.

The method: inviting inner-city noble sons like Yuan Shao to visit the Xia Palace monthly to train and study alongside Xia Yu.

The one responsible for this duty? Han Yue.

Han Yue didn’t just collect these children monthly—she also taught them martial arts alongside Xia Yu. These Xia second-generation youths, all around ten years old, were still pure-hearted. Years of companionship had forged deep bonds with Han Yue. His grief was only natural.

Not just Yuan Shao—this night, children from the Lin, Yue, Qiu, Lu, and other inner-city families would all mourn.

If her own son grieved so deeply, what of the Second Prince?

The thought struck Shi Lu. She sighed softly.

Han Yue was far more than just the head maid of the Star-Picking Palace. Since the birth of the two princes in the third year of Xia, she had never left their sides. Calling her their wet nurse was no exaggeration.

Her death would devastate the princes most—especially the Second Prince, who was present tonight. She’d heard: Han Yue died protecting him.

“Ah!”

……………………

Xia Palace, Lord’s Hall

In the center of the hall lay a woman’s corpse—Han Yue.

Her arms and legs bent at unnatural angles, grotesque. Her once gentle, serene face now twisted into a snarl, mouth agape, expression contorted.

Clearly, she had suffered immense agony before death.

The main seat on the eastern raised platform stood empty. Li Xuanling sat on the side seat, staring at Han Yue’s corpse, her face dark as storm clouds.

Below, Qiu Peng and the other twenty-seven Xianyang-level cultivators stood on either side, their gazes fixed on the corpse, their expressions heavy with grief.

No one spoke. The silence weighed like lead.

Finally, Qiu Peng stepped forward. He walked to the center, draped Han Yue’s body in white cloth, then turned, bowed to Li Xuanling, and broke the silence.

“Our twenty-seven of us followed the Soul-Seep Incense to a small stone peak, roughly thirty kilometers deep into Red Wood Ridge. We caught up with Yang Jian and his men—but only killed two. Yang Jian, the old man disguised as a Dragon Guard soldier, and four others escaped…”

He paused briefly, then continued: “Then, in a cave atop the peak, we found Han Yue’s corpse. After returning to the cave, Yang Jian’s six men—either out of spite or to extract key information about Xia City—subjected her to brutal torture. Judging by her condition…”