Chapter 597: Prince Murong Yuan of Guangling

The dusk in Chang'an arrived a little late.

The setting sun bathed the Qingshi slabs of Zhuque Avenue with a layer of molten gold.

The evening breeze swept through the hall, rattling the copper bells at the eaves of the Prince of Guangling's mansion; they chimed, yet could not disperse the stifling heat in the Shufang.

The Shufang was spacious; all four walls bore ancient, rustic bronze‑inscription rubbings, and piles of bamboo slips and hemp paper rested on the large rosewood desk, while the ink in the inkstone still held residual warmth, yet no one tended to it.

In his thirties, Prince Murong Yuan of Guangling wore a gold‑woven, flowing‑cloud patterned Brothel, a jade belt at his waist, his handsome face set with a furrowed brow.

He was Great Zhou's sole non‑royal prince, and in daily banquets or council he always appeared calm and unhurried.....

At this moment, however, his former composure was gone, and he paced back and forth in the Shufang.

The hem of his Brothel brushed the copper crane incense beside the desk, raising a wisp of lingering water fragrance, yet it could not quell the restlessness in his heart.

"Tap, tap, tap—"

The hurried footfalls sounded especially harsh in the silent Shufang.

The two people standing nearby, both around thirty, watched the Prince's demeanor, their expressions varied.

The man on the left, named Ye Jingjie, wore a blue‑cloth scholar's robe, his face lean and pale, three short whiskers under his chin; he was the chief strategist of the mansion, long renowned for his composure.

He stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze steady, watching Murong Yuan's anxious silhouette; though a hint of worry lingered in his eyes, not a trace of panic appeared.

The man on the right was the opposite: clad in a moon‑white long robe, twirling an ebony folding fan painted with ink‑wash mountains, he was Murong Yuan's other confidant, Chen Zhizhu.

Chen Zhizhu hailed from a distinguished Jiangnan family, entered Great Zhou with his father, and was the most carefree; now he wore a faint smile, his fan opening and closing gently in his palm, producing a crisp sound.

Murong Yuan abruptly halted his steps and lifted his gaze toward the window.

Dusk closed in on all sides; the clouds at the horizon had long shed their brilliant reds, turning into a deep indigo haze.

Lanterns beneath the eaves were lit by the servants, their dim yellow glow spilling through the lattice window, stretching shadows far and long.

He sighed heavily, his voice full of anxiety: "It's almost night, why hasn't Mr. Mei arrived in Chang'an yet?"

"The envoys we sent to inquire have yet to send any news back!"

Before the words finished, Ye Jingjie stepped forward, clasped his hands in a bow, his tone calm and soothing: "Prince, do not be disturbed!"

He paused, his gaze sweeping the deepening night outside, and continued, "Perhaps Mr. Mei has some matter that delayed him on the road?"

"It has been rainy along this route lately; perhaps flash floods blocked the way, who can say..."

Upon hearing this, Chen Zhizhu snapped his fan shut with a "snap," lightly tapped his palm with the fan handle, his smile widening, his tone melodic and slightly teasing: "Or perhaps, on the way to Chang'an, he beheld the beauty of my Yongzhou, paused to admire, and thus lost time..."

As he spoke, he shook the fan again, his eyes firm, "After all, scholars and gentlemen have such tastes!"

"Mr. Mei is a literary master of Jiangnan, proficient in qin, chess, calligraphy, and painting; having seen the misty Wei River and the verdant Zhongnan along the way, how could he bear to rush onward?"

Ye Jingjie nodded in agreement, his gaze landing on Murong Yuan's tightly knit brows, his voice warm as he continued to console: "Exactly!"

"Moreover, Mr. Mei is the head of the Jiangyou Alliance; under his command are countless capable and extraordinary men, each a match for ten..."

"With such guards at his side, what trouble could arise?"

"Prince, please be at ease!"

Their Guangling Prince's mansion and the Qilin talent forged a partnership, inviting him to Chang'an; wasn't one reason precisely that they valued this?

With powerful jianghu forces, they could be put to use!

Murong Yuan listened to the two, and his tense shoulders relaxed a little.

He then wiped his face, exhaled a heavy breath of foul air, the agitation in his chest seemed to ease a bit, yet another inexplicable unease sprouted silently like vines.

He spoke in a deep voice, his tone carrying a hint of bewilderment he himself had not sensed: "That may be so, but in my heart there remains a vague unease..."

As he spoke, he raised his hand to his chest, his fingertips clearly feeling the rapid, heavy heartbeat within his torso.

The uneasy feeling grew stronger, as if something were moving along the dusk's dark currents, silently approaching.

Murong Yuan's brows furrowed tighter, muttering to himself: "I always feel something is about to happen..."

The lingering water fragrance drifted, and the Shufang fell into a moment of silence.

Only the wind outside, swirling the lantern's glow, cast mottled shadows on the paper window.

At that moment, a chaotic clatter of footsteps erupted from the courtyard outside.

Accompanied by heavy panting, it shattered the stagnation.

Immediately, the Shufang door was flung open with a "bang."

A servant clad in coarse short garments stumbled in, his hair knot disheveled, his face pallid, shouting loudly, his voice full of panic: "Prince! Something terrible has happened!"

"Something terrible has happened!"

The abrupt shout shocked Murong Yuan to his core; he whirled around, his gaze sharp as he stared at the servant.

Ye Jingjie's complexion darkened, his usually gentle tone now edged with severity as he barked sternly: "What a disorderly display!"

"Could it be that the heavens have collapsed?"

The rebuke, bearing the strategist's authority, instantly made the servant shiver in fear; his steps staggered as he froze in place, his chest heaving violently, gasping in large breaths, his words incoherent: "This... this can't wait!"

Murong Yuan's heart leapt, his eyes fixed on the servant, he forced down his own tremor and spoke soothingly, his voice involuntarily tense: "First, steady yourself..."

He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing, and asked word by word, "What happened?"

The servant lifted his head, his face as pale as paper, lips trembling, his eyes filled with terror and bewilderment, his gaze on Murong Yuan like a chill weighing a thousand pounds.

He opened his mouth, his voice shaking beyond recognition, each word seeming forced from his teeth, striking everyone's hearts and stirring a stormy surge:

"Mei... Mr. Mei Renbi... is dead!"

"He died... thirty li from Chang'an!"

Murong Yuan, Ye Jingjie, and Chen Zhizhu were all shocked, their faces full of astonishment.

The three almost simultaneously lost their voices, exclaiming in disbelief: "What?!"

At that moment, they could not dare to trust their ears...

Those words felt like steel needles tempered in ice, piercing their hearts mercilessly, shattering all the earlier consolation and speculation.

Murong Yuan staggered back half a step, his back slamming hard against the edge of the rosewood desk.

The remaining ink block on the desk was shaken loose, rolled onto the floor, and made a dull thud, yet it could not suppress the surging tempest in his chest.

He stared intently at the servant's pallid face, his lips trembling.

The vague unease he had felt earlier now turned into solid fear, spreading through his veins to his limbs and bones, causing a fine layer of cold sweat to break out over his whole body.

Ye Jingjie was the first to regain his senses; the usually steady man lost his composure now, lunged forward, seized the servant's coarse cloth collar, yanked him harshly forward, and demanded in a sharp voice, his eyes flashing with a keen cold light: "What did you say?!"

His knuckles whitened from the force, and his voice trembled with suppressed agitation: "You can't just speak recklessly about such matters?!"

The servant, already terrified to the point of losing his spirit, was further shaken by Ye Jingjie's grip, trembling all over like sifted chaff, his speech stammering: "This… this matter is absolutely true, as… as it's already spreading throughout Chang'an!"

He swallowed, as if recalling an extremely terrifying scene, his complexion growing even paler, his voice taking on a sobbing tone as he added in panic, "Moreover, Mr. Mei's death was extremely tragic…"

He paused, then continued: "His body was slashed apart by a flurry of knives, even his head was cut off!"

"Sss—"

Chen Zhizhu inhaled a cold gasp, eyes widening in shock; the fallen folding fan in his hand was instinctively stepped on, yet he didn't notice, only feeling bewildered, and exclaimed hoarsely: "How could this be possible?!"

"But that's the Qilin talent of Liang Kingdom?!"

He, usually carefree, now even his voice changed pitch, "A top master of the Jiang Right Alliance is not something ordinary ruffians can sway, right?"

"Even if it were an ambush, how could they wound him so severely?"

Ye Jingjie slowly released his grip on the servant's collar, yet his fingertips continued to tremble.

He staggered back a few steps, his back pressed against the cold wall.

He only felt a buzzing in his head, a total chaos.

He looked out at the heavy dusk beyond the window, his lips moving, full of astonishment and incomprehension: "The illustrious leader of the Jiang Right Alliance, with countless masters under his command, how could he meet such an end?!"

"Indeed, how could it be so?"

The thought hammered like a heavy hammer against Murong Yuan's heart.

He forced down the panic in his chest, clenched his fists hard, steadied himself, then fixed his gaze on the servant, his voice hoarse as sandpaper: "Tell me in detail what exactly happened, what is the matter?!"

The servant steadied himself, wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, chose his words carefully, and began tremblingly: "It… it was that Qi State's conspirator Gao Changjing, who colluded with dissatisfied masters inside Liang Kingdom who opposed the Jiang Right Alliance and Mr. Mei…"

"They ambushed Mr. Mei on his inevitable route into Chang'an, taking advantage of the night to kill him!"

He paused, his tone becoming more urgent: "It is said that Gao Changjing's goal was to provoke a great war between Great Zhou and Liang Kingdom, so that Qi State could reap the benefits!"

"And… also Duke of Wei Chen Yan, upon learning the news, without hesitation, led troops out of the city to quell the unrest!"

"Chen Yan took over this matter…" Murong Yuan murmured, these few words striking his mind like a thunderclap.

He jerked his head up, inhaled a cold breath, felt his hair stand on end, a chill surged from his feet straight to the Heavenly Spirit Cover, his face full of unhidden worry, and said in a deep voice: "He is extremely capable, meticulous in thought, and his methods are ruthless; could he, by following the trail, trace it back to me?"

Chen Yan's name, like a massive stone, pressed the Prince of Guangling to the point of suffocation.

That man, though young, already wielded great power, his prestige in the court rising daily, and was famed as "Iron‑faced Impartial"…

If one were caught with even a sliver of evidence, the consequences would be unimaginable.

Ye Jingjie at this moment had completely calmed down, closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, the panic in his pupils had faded, replaced by a deep composure.

He quickly weighed the pros and cons, pondered briefly, then looked up at Murong Yuan, saying without fear: "Prince, even if Chen Yan discovers it, what then?"

His voice was steady and powerful, carrying a reassuring strength: "From start to finish we never had any overt connection with Mr. Mei entering Chang'an, nor with the Prince's residence…"

"Even if Chen Yan is extremely capable, without solid evidence, what can he do to the Prince?"

Though he said so, Murong Yuan's worry did not lessen at all.

He furrowed his brows, let out a heavy sigh, paced irritably two steps, the hem of his brocade robe sweeping over the bamboo slips on the ground, producing a rustling sound: "But I still have some doubts in my heart…"

Then he raised his hand to his chest, feeling it still beating rapidly: "Will this incident truly leave no trace at all?"

The air in the Shufang stilled once more.

Outside, the night grew denser; the lanterns under the eaves swayed in the wind, their dim yellow glow flickering, casting a solemn pallor over the three faces.

Chen Zhizhu bent down, picked up the fallen folding fan, slowly opened it; the ink‑wash landscape on the fan appeared somewhat blurred in the wavering lantern light.

Ye Jingjie's fingers hanging at his side curled slightly, his mind already calculating at lightning speed.

He looked at Murong Yuan's anxious brows, glanced at the trembling servant on the ground, then thought of the storm‑like Chen Yan outside the city…

Countless thoughts intertwined and collided, gradually forming a perilously intricate scheme.

In an instant, a deep glint flashed in his eyes, like a cold hawk soaring through the night, and he stepped forward, solemnly clasping his fist to the Prince of Guangling, his tone steady and serious: "Prince, the immediate priority now is to contact Gao Changjing!"

"What?!"

Murong Yuan heard this and seemed to have heard a fantastical tale, his face full of puzzled confusion; he furrowed his brows, stared at Ye Jingjie, his voice tinged with disbelief: "Gao Changjing is a Qi thief, and he personally killed Mr. Mei…."

"He is ruthless and hostile to Great Zhou, why would we contact him?"

"Do you intend to let me invite wolves into the house?"

Ye Jingjie heard this, then suddenly blinked, a half‑smile curved his mouth, that smile hiding calculation and certainty; his tone was profound: "Prince, think carefully, we spent great effort sending several envoys south, painstakingly inviting that Qilin talent to the Capital—what was the purpose?"

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the dust‑covered strategy bamboo slips in the Shufang, his voice lowered a few tones: "Wasn't it to stir the winds of Chang'an, to create cracks in the Court, giving you a chance to act?"

"Now that Mr. Mei is dead, Gao Changjing was able, under heavy guard, to take the life of the Jiang Right Alliance's leader, which proves his skill!"

"He is both brave and cunning, and ruthless—exactly the kind we can use!"

"Yes…" Murong Yuan subconsciously nodded; the words left his mouth, and he seemed struck by a thunderclap, his eyes widening sharply.

He stared steadily at Ye Jingjie, his tone carrying hesitation and sudden realization: "Jingjie, do you mean…?"

"Exactly!"

Ye Jingjie nodded heavily, the brilliance in his eyes burning brighter, and said gravely: "As long as we lend Gao Changjing a hand, let him cause another wave outside Chang'an, disturbing Great Zhou's tranquil pond!"

"If the situation deteriorates beyond control, the court and the world will quake, people will be anxious, and our opportunity will arise, won't it?"

He said this, a playful curl at the corner of his mouth, his tone carrying a hint of casual coolness: "Anyway, from the start we never expected Mr. Mei to truly help…"

"He is a Liang Kingdom scholar, his heart lies with his native land; would he truly scheme for the Prince of Northern Zhou?"

"He's dead, that also saves a lot of trouble!"

Chen Zhizhu at this moment also fully grasped Ye Jingjie's intention, put away his startled expression, slapped his thigh hard, the folding fan in his palm "pop" opened, his eyebrows dancing as he sketched a blueprint for Murong Yuan: "Exactly! Prince, imagine, when Chang'an descends into chaos, the Qi and Liang states will eye each other greedily, and the Court will inevitably need to appoint people…"

"By then, the whole court's civil and military officials will be helpless, Your Majesty will be in a terrible bind, and will likely beg the Prince to take office!"

He grew more excited, his voice rising a few pitches, as if the ink‑wash landscape on the fan leapt to life, "When the Prince emerges again, he will turn the raging tide that is about to collapse, support the great hall that is about to tilt, and with the Prince's talent and prestige, why worry that he cannot ascend to a high position and grasp power?"

"This sky‑splitting wealth is right before our eyes!"

Murong Yuan's heart raced at Chen Zhizhu's words, yet his reason clung tightly, preventing him from daring to take this step.

He furrowed his brows, his expression extremely complicated, the hesitation on his face almost spilling out; after a while, he sighed deeply and voiced his greatest reservation: "Even so, Gao Changjing is, after all, a Qi bandit, a man of an enemy state; allying with him is no different from seeking a tiger's skin!"

"A slight misstep would set oneself ablaze!"

"Moreover, this is a treasonous act of colluding with the enemy; once exposed, this Prince will be beyond redemption!"

When those words were spoken, the atmosphere in the Shufang fell silent instantly.

The candlelight flickered, stretching the three shadows long upon the mottled Qiangbi, like Guimo.

Chen Zhizhu and Ye Jingjie exchanged a glance, both understanding.

Then the two together bowed deeply toward the Prince of Guangling, their voices clear and resolute, bearing the determination of burning one's boats: "Prince, wealth and honor are sought amidst danger!"

"Since ancient times, those who achieve great deeds do not fuss over minor details!"

"Do you truly wish to be trapped forever in this Prince of Guangling's residence, becoming an idle Prince doing nothing, oppressed by the petty officials in the court, wasting your life?"

Those words, like a heavy hammer, struck Murong Yuan's heart hard.

Indeed, he is unwilling!

He is the only non‑surname prince of Great Zhou, bearing talent that spans heaven and earth, yet can only watch helplessly as others command the court, while he is like a caged bird, unable to spread his wings.

That long‑suppressed ambition was ignited completely by those words, burning fiercely.

Murong Yuan clenched his fists tightly, the hesitation on his face all fading, replaced by sheer ruthlessness.

Then, gritting his teeth as if making his life's greatest resolve, he bellowed gravely: "Fine! We'll do as you say!"

His voice echoed in the silent Shufang, bearing a hint of finality: "Ye Jingjie, immediately select the most reliable covert guards from the residence, equip them with heavy funds and a Secret Letter, and swiftly dispatch someone to secretly approach Gao Changjing!"