Chapter 399: Burning with Anxiety

The old emperor silently flipped through pile after pile of memorials, his expression grim.

Qiu Defu dared not even breathe, feeling as if the old emperor might explode at any moment.

The eunuchs and palace maids had all slipped away without a sound.

In the palace, with so many people, losing one or two didn't matter. But the maids and eunuchs qualified to serve in Taiji Palace? Each death was a loss that could not be replaced.

Training qualified personnel takes time.

The old emperor slaughtered recklessly—today beheaded, tomorrow beheaded—his reserves of talent couldn't keep up with the drain, and it was truly worrying.

"Your Majesty," he whispered softly, "would Your Majesty care to rest?"

The old emperor seemed to snap out of his thoughts, flinging the memorial on his desk aside, his face twisted with rage he was forced to suppress.

Qiu Defu dared to ask again: "Does Your Majesty have any orders?"

The old emperor paced back and forth in the grand hall, agitated. "Issue an edict praising the Marquis of Pingjiang and urge him to swiftly crush the rebel Guo Dachun. I haven't seen him in a long time—I miss him dearly. I can hardly wait to play a game of strategy with my loyal minister. Also, send orders to the Ministry of War: summon Chen Guanfu back to the capital for his official report."

Upon hearing this, Qiu Defu's heart jolted.

The old emperor indeed feared the Chen family father and son. The Marquis of Pingjiang's position couldn't be touched—the northern front still had the rebel Guo Dachun uncrushed, and the Marquis was needed to hold the line. But in the south, Chen Guanfu was merely a deputy commander; though fierce in battle, he was replaceable.

The situation is now clear—it's time to make a move.

Qiu Defu bowed deeply and replied, "Yes, Your Majesty."

The old emperor seemed to want to add more: "The Chen father and son have served far from court for years, exhausting themselves in loyal service. I truly feel pity. Such a grand marquis's household—no one in charge, empty and silent during the New Year—what a disgrace. I understand the Chen family's hardship. I summon Chen Guanfu back to the capital so he may serve properly here and care for his family."

"Your Majesty is wise!" Qiu Defu said.

The old emperor smiled with satisfaction, pleased with his arrangement. "Carry out these orders exactly. Let Chen Guanfu return to the capital immediately upon receiving the edict—no delays. Let the Marquis of Pingjiang press his advantage and don't let Guo Dachun escape. Transport every member of the Prince of Da Ming's faction to the capital—I will have them torn to pieces."

Anyone who dares rebel must be flayed alive with three thousand cuts—no mercy.

Surrender and recruitment are out of the question.

On this matter, the old emperor's stance was utterly firm—no one could change his decision.

Order after order was issued.

The eldest lord, far up north, received the edict urging him to advance and crush Guo Dachun—he tossed it aside and ignored it.

The strategist quietly collected the edict, put it away, and said softly: "The old emperor has summoned the heir back to the capital—he clearly fears the Marquis. According to palace sources, he suspects the Marquis is deliberately delaying military action."

"He's right to suspect it," the eldest lord chuckled, his gaze scornful. "He's a paranoid man. That he waited this long to recall the heir is already surprising. In wisdom, no one in court can match him. Manipulating hearts? That's his specialty."

"Too bad the old emperor is obsessed with Daoist cultivation," the strategist sighed. Since the old emperor began cultivating, the state has decayed—like a leaky house, every corner is full of holes.

The eldest lord gazed out the window. The capital hadn't yet seen snow, but up north, heavy snows had fallen for days. The snow concealed all colors, all ugliness, the desolate earth.

The eldest lord murmured to himself: "This land will never know peace."

"The Marquis speaks truly. According to our scouts, the Northern Rong have had a hard time these past few years—they're stirring, ready to march south at any moment. The Prince of Cheng is still hesitant, undecided."

"If he can't decide, I'll decide for him. Send word: either die, or march."

"Won't that be too extreme?" the strategist worried.

The eldest lord snorted coldly. "That old corpse sits on the dragon throne—I can't sleep or eat in peace. The situation must be thrown into chaos. That old corpse is ancient—he's already built his tomb. It's time he lay down in it. He wants to cultivate Dao? The tomb is the perfect place for it."

The eldest lord spoke these most treasonous words with casual ease. If this ever reached the ears of others, the Three Clans Execution would be guaranteed—and the Flaying with Three Thousand Cuts would follow.

But he didn't care.

A fire burned inside him—has burned for decades. He could barely hold back anymore.

The strategist hurriedly urged him to calm down, to endure a little longer.

He'd endured for so many years—what difference would a few more make?

"He's already deposed the Crown Prince—clearly obsessed with clinging to power. He wants to live, wants another ten or twenty years. I can wait—but I won't wait ten or twenty years. Has there ever been an emperor who ruled seventy years? Absurd!"

The eldest lord was furious, on the verge of breaking.

The old emperor has no shortage of talented advisors—he wants to live, and he'll find a way to extend his life. Ten or twenty years isn't idle talk—it's genuinely possible.

The strategist trembled. "Why are you so certain the old emperor can live another ten or twenty years? Has he discovered some secret art?"

The eldest lord snorted. "I've received word—the Supreme Elder of Jixia Academy has emerged from seclusion. Do you know who this Supreme Elder is?"

"Your humble student does not know. Please enlighten me, Marquis."

"This Supreme Elder has reached the Patriarch realm. But in his youth, his talent was merely above average—his potential, likewise. So many geniuses failed to break through to Patriarch and perished. Only he succeeded. Do you know how?"

"How?"

"His peerless alchemical skill. He forced himself into the Patriarch realm through sheer volume of pills. That's why his foundation is unstable—he ranks at the bottom among Patriarchs. He's been in seclusion all these years to stabilize his realm. Now that he's emerged, the problem is resolved."

I've received confirmed news: Jixia Academy has allied with that old corpse, becoming his lapdog in exchange for power in court. With the Supreme Elder's pills, it's no hardship for the old corpse to live another ten or twenty years.

He didn't just depose the Crown Prince—he intends to outlive his own sons. Hahahaha… I'm old. My cultivation has stalled. My lifespan is limited. I cannot wait another ten or twenty years."

The eldest lord slammed his fist onto the table.

Jixia Academy's decision to side with the old emperor now was something he hadn't anticipated.

It's all the Crown Prince's fault—useless, didn't fight a single battle before being deposed.

The Patriarch who served the deposed Crown Prince was equally useless—his head was full of water. What good is staying alive if you lose power? A deposed Crown Prince without authority is like a venomous snake with its fangs pulled—any three-year-old child could kill him.

The eldest lord was burning with anxiety.

Before, he had planned to proceed steadily, following the original strategy step by step.

Now, he must accelerate the plan—the hidden forces must move at once.