Chapter 616: Two Honored Guests

Honored guest?

What honored guest?

Murong Yuan muttered repeatedly, asking again.

Those crimson eyes stared intently at Chen Yan, full of doubt and terror, a terrible premonition surged like a tide, almost overwhelming him.

He struggled, finally spitting out a clenched‑tooth question: "You… what pit have you dug for me again?"

Chen Yan raised an eyebrow, his smile deepened, and feigned mystery as he shook his head: "You'll find out in a moment!"

Having said that, he turned his head toward the opposite side, where Yuwen Ze was fiddling with a black piece, speaking lightly, "Ah Ze, it's your move…"

Yuwen Ze nodded, raised his wrist slightly, and the black piece landed precisely on the diagonal side of the white piece, creating a cutting‑corner formation with the previous move.

The crisp clack of pieces echoed in the Shufang, like a series of death‑drumming beats.

Chen Zhi Zhu lay on the ground, listening to the sound, feeling a growing chill in his chest; the composure he had forced earlier had long vanished.

Seeing the iron evidence before him and thinking of the upcoming "honored guest", his mental defenses collapsed with a thud.

He jerked his head up, facing Chen Yan and Yuwen Ze, and shouted hoarsely: "Minister of State! Commandery Prince! It was all orchestrated by Murong Yuan!"

"He deceived us into rebelling against the state!"

"We were all forced, you know!"

"Please, two gentlemen, spare our lives!"

Murong Yuan heard this, his eyes bulging like copper bells, he whirled around, stared hard at Chen Zhi Zhu, and let out an angry roar from his throat, shouting: "Chen Zhi Zhu! You soft‑boned fool!"

"You filthy scoundrel!"

Chen Yan glanced at the kneeling, pleading Chen Zhi Zhu, and the white piece at his fingertip dropped again, producing a light sound on the board.

He smiled wryly and teased: "The Duke still likes it; you were once unruly, pointing at the empire—shall we bring that back?"

At that, he couldn't help but throw his head back and laugh: "Hahaha!"

That loud laughter rang in Murong Yuan and the others' ears, sharper than a knife.

Half Hour Rest passed slowly amid the clacking of pieces and suppressed sobbing.

Just as the black and white pieces on the board entered a stalemate.

Outside the Shufang, two high‑pitched announcement cries suddenly rang, like thunderclaps exploding in the night sky:

Your Majesty has arrived—!

Grand Preceptor has arrived—!

Chen Yan heard the call, lifted his chin toward Murong Yuan's direction, a teasing smile on his lips: "Look, the Duke's men have arrived!"

Having said that, he exchanged a glance with Yuwen Ze, and both rose, calmly smoothing the folds of their robes.

The dark Brothel's hidden golden‑cloud pattern shimmered in the candlelight, accentuating their already upright bearing.

Murong Yuan's whole body stiffened, as if struck by a bolt of thunder, leaving him dumbfounded.

He widened his eyes, his mind buzzing, with only one thought: "They're actually waiting for the Son of Heaven and the Grand Preceptor?!"

No wonder… no wonder Chen Yan is so brazen, no wonder they act without restraint!

It turned out that from start to finish, all of this was ordered by Your Majesty and the Grand Preceptor!

That realization was like ice water, instantly dousing the last flicker of resistance in his heart.

Soon, the Shufang's door was pushed open from outside.

The Son of Heaven Yuwen Yong wore a bright yellow dragon robe, tall and upright, his face still bearing a hint of youthful freshness, yet his brows exuded imperial majesty.

Beside him stood Grand Preceptor Yuwen Hu, clad in a purple python robe, his expression solemn, exuding authority without anger.

The two walked side by side, slowly entering the Shufang.

Chen Yan and Yuwen Ze, seeing this, immediately bowed and saluted, their voices resonant: "Your Majesty, I present myself!"

"Grand Preceptor, I present myself!"

Inside the Shufang, Zhu Yi and the embroidered‑clad envoys also knelt, shouting in unison: "Your Majesty, I present myself! Grand Preceptor, I present myself!"

Only Murong Yuan and his few companions were being held down on the ground, looking miserable.

Yuwen Yong hurried forward, his gaze sweeping the mess on the floor before landing on Murong Yuan, raising his hand in a feigned support, his voice clear: "You two dear ministers, no need for formalities!"

Chen Yan and Yuwen Ze rose, bowing and replying: "Thank you, Your Majesty!"

Murong Yuan stared at the dragon robe just a few steps away, feeling a chill surge from his feet to his head, his whole body trembling.

His lips trembled as he tried to bow, but the embroidered envoy held him firmly, forcing him to choke out a halting phrase: "I… I present myself to Your…"

Before he could finish, Yuwen Yong's furious rebuke cut him off: "Murong Yuan! Great Zhou has not treated you poorly!"

"Is this how you repay me, repay the late emperor?!"

Yuwen Yong's voice was full of disappointment and anger, shaking Murong Yuan's eardrums painfully.

He trembled all over, lowering his head further, daring not even a breath.

Beside him, Yuwen Hu stepped forward, his face solemn, eyes sharp as knives, his voice deep as he questioned: "Know this, Murong Yuan, you are Great Zhou's sole non‑clan prince!"

"When the late emperor lived, he favored you greatly, and Your Majesty trusts you beyond measure!"

"How could you collude with Gao Changjing and plot treason?"

Yuwen Hu's words were each like a hammer, striking Murong Yuan's heart hard.

Cold sweat dotted his forehead, streaming down his cheeks, dripping onto the cold Blue Bricks.

His heartbeat raced wildly, like drums, his spine chilled as if immersed in ice water.

He opened his mouth, his voice trembling incoherently, cautiously trying to excuse himself: "I… I am a guilty minister… was momentarily possessed by demons…"

"…and was incited by traitors, leading to this colossal mistake…"

"Please, Your Majesty, grant mercy!"

"Grand Preceptor, please forgive me!"

Yuwen Yong snorted coldly, the "heh" full of bone‑chilling cold, pointing at the trembling Murong Yuan on the ground, his tone teeth‑gritted, each word seeming forced from his teeth: "I see you are not merely momentarily deluded, but have been plotting for a long time!"

"You not only aim to usurp the lands of Great Zhou, but also intend to take my life!"

Speaking, he suddenly turned his head toward Yuwen Hu's direction, his voice abruptly rose, full of uncontainable anger: "If the Grand Preceptor had not seen through every detail and Minister Chen had remained loyal to the state, Great Zhou now would already be awash in blood and turmoil; the fall of the realm would be upon us any moment!"

Yuwen Yong's fury seemed ready to set the entire Shufang ablaze; others merely thought he harbored hatred for Murong Yuan's treason…

Yet what truly fanned his inner anger was that Murong Yuan's reckless scheming had almost ruined his own carefully feigned weakness toward Yuwen Hu, a ploy meant to lull the latter.

It nearly caused his previously patient scheming to be wasted, a failure at the last step!

Murong Yuan heard this and felt the blood in his whole body turn icy; cold sweat streamed down his temples, leaving a dark blot on the Blue Bricks.

He hammered his head hard onto the ground, his forehead throbbing with pain, his voice trembling with sobs as he pleaded: "Your Majesty, Grand Preceptor, please, for my father's sake, forgive this guilty servant!"

"My father once fought bloodily for Great Zhou; I, the guilty servant, will certainly reform, and spend the rest of my life guarding the tomb of Great Zhou, never daring to entertain any further delusions!"

Yuwen Yong's gaze grew heavy, his fingertips subtly tightened, already having a plan in mind, yet his eyes narrowed slightly as he turned to Yuwen Hu beside him, his tone carrying a measured request: "Grand Preceptor, what do you think should be done?"

Yuwen Hu, one hand clasped behind his back, stood as upright as a pine, his eyes scanning the iron evidence on the floor before settling on Murong Yuan's disheveled figure; his voice rang clear, full of undeniable authority: "Can the law be bent for personal gain?"

"A prince who breaks the law is no different from a commoner; how can a mere foreign prince cause us to overturn Great Zhou's statutes?"

Yuwen Yong immediately nodded, his face full of agreement: "Grand Preceptor, you speak perfectly!"

"I think the same!"

He paused, his voice rising and falling with resolve, "Such treason is a grave crime and must not be lightly pardoned!"

Satisfied, Yuwen Hu nodded and turned his gaze to Chen Yan, his voice deep: "Chen Zhuguo, you will handle this from here!"

"Proceed according to the law, with no reservations!"

Chen Yan instantly bowed, clasping his fists, his voice resonant and strong: "As you command!"

Murong Yuan, hearing this, felt all his strength drained; he inhaled a cold breath, his teeth chattering, his mind reduced to a single thought, repeating: "It's over… it's over…"

In that instant he knew clearly that not only his own life could not be saved, but the nine clans of the Guangling King would also plunge with him into an irredeemable abyss…

Immediately, Yuwen Hu no longer gave Murong Yuan a glance, turned and walked out of the Shufang, with Yuwen Yong close behind.

The two figures quickly vanished into the night.

Chen Yan and Yuwen Ze simultaneously bowed, their voices loud: "Respectfully escort Your Majesty! Respectfully escort the Grand Preceptor!"

The other embroidered‑clad envoys in the Shufang also knelt, shouting in unison: "Respectfully escort Your Majesty! Respectfully escort the Grand Preceptor!"

Only after their footsteps faded deep into the courtyard did Chen Yan slowly straighten up, turn to the standing Hou Mo Chen Xiao, a faint smile at the corner of his mouth, his tone relaxed as he ordered: "Hou Mo Chen, Mirror Master, don't just stand there!"

"It's time to work!"

Hou Mo Chen Xiao's eyes flashed with brilliance, he stepped forward, clasped his fists and replied: "Yes!"

The embroidered envoys behind him each readied themselves, fists clenched.

Their eyes were full of eager anticipation; the energy they had been suppressing in the Shufang finally found a chance to be used.

Chen Yan smiled lightly, his gaze sweeping over the pallid Murong Yuan, his tone casually admonishing: "After copying, make sure none of the Guangling King's nine clans are missed; bring them all back to the Mingjing Office!"

"Check carefully; do not let a single person slip away…"

"Understood!" Hou Mo Chen Xiao answered gravely, then turned to the embroidered envoys, shouting loudly, "Boys, move!"

"Yes!"

The embroidered envoys answered in chorus, their voices shaking eardrums.

They surged forward like arrows released, their footsteps and shouts quickly echoing throughout the Guangling King's Mansion.

Murong Yuan watched this scene, collapsing completely, struggling desperately, a harrowing plea rising from his throat: "No… don't…!"

"Chen Zhuguo, I beg you…"

Chen Yan stepped forward slowly, crouched, patted Murong Yuan's trembling shoulder, leaned close to his ear, his voice pressed low, sounding comforting yet bone‑cold: "King of Guangling, don't be so sad!"

He paused, a half‑smile curling at his mouth, and deliberately added: "You will still be the mastermind behind preventing the Imperial Academy's expansion, and directing Huazhou officials to set fire to the relay stations!"