Chapter 199: with translation of chapter title

Outside Fengming Hall, the Black Iron Army brought by Xiao Jingyuan had already captured all the rebels; the officials and ladies were all unharmed, except for Su Ran, who had lost her father.

When Shen Shuangning arrived, she saw her childhood friend, who had grown up with her, slumped over Censor Su, crying herself into a tearful wreck, and she too couldn't help feeling grief.

She still didn't know what had happened before this, but she could roughly guess.

The Crown Prince was forced to commit suicide; Censor Su, who had lived his life with integrity and righteousness, preferring death to submission, became a sacrificial pawn in the Empress's ploy to kill a chicken to scare the monkeys.

Shen Shuangning walked silently to Su Ran's side, crouched down, and placed her hand on her shoulder.

Su Ran lifted her tear-streaked face, unable to speak from sobbing; when she saw clearly it was her, she whispered, "Ningning, I have no father left."

After saying that, she fainted.

"Ranran!" Shen Shuangning hurried to support her.

Suddenly a pair of hands reached out from the side, and the person said, "Leave it to me."

Hearing that familiar voice, Shen Shuangning froze, for she recognized it as her elder brother's voice.

Shen Xiuci didn't bother to look at his sister's expression, tightly pursing his lips, and right there in front of everyone he hoisted Su Ran into a horizontal carry and walked off.

Not to mention the Su family being stunned; even the Shen family stared blankly at the scene.

Shen Shuangning stared unblinking at Shen Xiuci's retreating back, thinking, "My brother hides his feelings too deeply; in two lifetimes I never noticed he had feelings for Ranran... but now is not the time to think about that."

Shen Shuangning turned, her gaze toward Fengming Hall, which was tightly surrounded by the Black Iron Army, then lifted her skirt and stepped onto the stone stairs.

Qingyun and a few personal guards, tasked with protecting her, immediately followed.

A thin layer of snow covered the white jade steps, and the bright red blood spread across the snow, making it especially glaring.

Passing the corpses of the Crown Prince and Song Xizhi, Shen Shuangning paused slightly and took a deep look.

Su Wan did not enter the palace together with Shen Shuangning; instead she went to visit her maternal grandfather, but she knew of the Crown Prince's death.

Although Su Wan said nothing, Shen Shuangning could still sense her sorrow.

Su Wan did hate the Crown Prince, yet she did not want to see him end up in such a miserable fate.

Shen Shuangning herself didn't like the Crown Prince either; he bore the title of heir apparent but lacked the talent to govern, and moreover caused the Crown Princess to miscarry, yet seeing him now, unyielding even in death, a feeling of respect rose in her heart.

After a brief hesitation, Shen Shuangning turned and ordered Qingyun to fetch two garments to cover the two lifeless faces, granting them final dignity.

Thereafter she didn't spare them another glance, lifted her foot to continue forward, but before she even approached the hall's doors, she was intercepted by two squadrons of the Black Iron Army.

The leading soldier gripped a spear, his expression showing some difficulty, yet he still persisted in saluting and said, "Madam, please forgive me; the general has ordered that, since the situation inside Fengming Hall is unclear, no one may enter. It's dangerous in there, and this subordinate would never dare to defy military orders by letting you in."

The general they referred to was Xiao Jingyuan, who held the Black Iron Command and was their leader.

The one who issued this order was Xiao Jingyuan; he did not want Shen Shuangning to see him slaying his enemy with his own hands.

Behind layers of human walls, Shen Shuangning could not see clearly what was happening inside Fengming Hall.

The soldier considerately said, "It's cold outside, madam; you might first go rest in a side hall."

Shen Shuangning did not make things difficult for him, nor did she leave; she anxiously gazed at the tall vermilion hall doors.

Seeing that she had no intention of leaving, the soldier said nothing more.

Ouyang Wentian was still clutching his head and scurrying like a rat, his mouth spouting nonsense nonstop.

"You old malignant tumor, the Black Iron Army has already wiped out your followers; your evil cult's fate is exhausted—hurry up and surrender!" the shout came from Qingfeng.

Upon hearing that it wasn't Xiao Jingyuan's voice, Ouyang Wentian continued, "Xiao Jingyuan, the Prince Yan's mansion has retrieved the true heir; there's no place left for you to stay there, so why bother serving the royal family? Look, the throne is right before your eyes, within easy reach!"

"Actually, I just can't stand the Zhai family ruling as emperor; if you took the throne, I'd also be pleased to see it happen! Then you wouldn't be a 'false heir' living under others' roofs, but an emperor worshiped by all."

In Ouyang Wentian's view, any man with a little ambition could not resist such a great temptation!

Thinking this way, he went on to tempt: "If you became emperor, I would not only not oppose it, but I would also have the remaining cult followers submit to you, helping you secure the realm!"

Xiao Jingyuan held a bow and arrow, saying nothing.

The gazes of everyone in the hall turned toward him in unison, even the Empress stared at him without blinking.

Few people know that beneath Fengming Hall lies an extremely concealed secret chamber.

The movements and sounds above were heard clearly by those below.

Eunuch Hai, who ought to have been in prison, now stood bowed beside Emperor Xuwen.

Upon hearing those words, he couldn't help but furtively lift his eyes toward the emperor.

Unfortunately, the candlelight in the secret chamber was dim, so he couldn't make out the emperor's expression; he only saw that pale, gaunt face weakened by grave illness.

Eunuch Hai thought of the Crown Prince who had been forced to self-destruct— that usually gentle prince ultimately ended his life in such a stern manner; the emperor's heart must be aching terribly.

Immediately afterward he recalled the Crown Prince's consort; when Eunuch Hai escaped from prison, disguised as an old eunuch, he happened to encounter Song Xizhi being escorted by palace attendants.

It was probably just that brief glance, yet she recognized him.

Fortunately, the imperial guards stationed beside the Empress acted quickly; otherwise, once Song Xizhi finished speaking, she would have ruined the emperor's grand plan...

The secret chamber was not occupied only by the two of them.

Commander of the Imperial Guards Lin Yue held a waist sword, standing at the entrance of the secret chamber, responsible for protecting the emperor's safety.

And on a low stool in the corner, a monk dressed in robes patched all over was snoring loudly asleep; even if Ouyang Wentian's voice reached him, he merely clicked his tongue and slept soundly, oblivious.

Emperor Xuwen glanced at the unkempt monk, his expression complex.

Initially, this monk had privately sought him out, predicting that the world would soon fall into chaos, the people unable to survive.

Having previously fallen for the trick of a demonic daoist, Emperor Xuwen at first dared not believe it.

Later, upon learning that this person was the Living Buddha Ji Gong, spoken of in legends as a divine dragon without head or tail, a truly enlightened high monk, he could not help but believe.

The monk said, "The leader of the evil cult is a descendant of the remnants of the previous dynasty; Xiao Jingyuan's feigned death alone is not enough to draw them out completely, so the emperor must risk his person and carry out a 'feigned death plot'."

This would lure the Holy Heaven Sect and those with divided loyalties in the court to reveal their true colors, then in one fell swoop eradicate these malignant tumors at the root.

However, this move is extremely perilous, so only a few people know of this grand plan—even Xiao Jingyuan does not know that the emperor is still alive.

But he is also not far from death.

Suddenly a commotion came from above, followed immediately by a miserable shriek.

A longsword severed one of Ouyang Wentian's arms, flesh and blood flying.

Ouyang Wentian pressed his still‑good arm against the wound that wouldn't stop bleeding, his face deathly pale, pain making his whole body convulse, he begged:

"Spare me, please, spare my life……" He collapsed to the ground, dragging his broken‑armed body backward, leaving a winding bloodstain on the floor tiles.

"I'll give you the Holy Sect's treasures and the hidden gold and silver! I want nothing else—not the throne, not power and influence—just spare my life……"

Having lived to this age, he was terrified of death.

He once thought power could control everything, but now, facing the threat of death, all his ambitions turned to bubbles, leaving only the most humble plea.

Kang Shouyi had already fallen in a pool of blood, and could no longer protect him.

Xiao Jingyuan gripped the long sword dyed red with blood; the blood dripping from its tip fell onto the floor tiles, as if a red flower had blossomed.

"But I only want your life."

Xiao Jingyuan's tone was light, yet like a blood‑thirsty wolf king in the mountains, each word felt like a bite on one's throat.

Ouyang Wentian lifted his gaze to see the blood‑tinged hue spreading in the man's phoenix eyes, as if years of pent‑up fierce hatred were surging within.

Ouyang Wentian had done countless evil deeds; he himself knew he had killed many, and had seen many hostile glances, his heart long since unmoved by any ripple.

But faced with this man before him, he actually felt an emotion called fear, his breathing turning rapid.

Yet more than fear, there was confusion; he gasped, struggling to speak: "Old man, I don't understand one thing……"

"Old man, I haven't killed your whole family—why must you insist on putting me to death?"

He racked his brains, yet could not fathom what, besides the struggle for power, could be the irreconcilable deep hatred between him and Xiao Jingyuan!

Xiao Jingyuan looked at his bewildered face, the corner of his mouth curling into a cold arc, as if hearing a huge joke. He then said coldly: "The death of Yuan Zhenfeng was your doing."

Ouyang Wentian thought, who was Yuan Zhenfeng? Oh, the former garrison commander.

Having killed so many in his life, it took a moment before he recalled Yuan Zhenfeng's relation to Xiao Jingyuan.

Ouyang Wentian hurriedly defended: "I sent the assassins, but the one who gave the order was that woman!"

He pointed at the nearby Empress Wang, passing the buck—"may the wicked die, not the poor."

Empress Wang knelt on the ground, tightly holding the gradually cooling Prince Rui in her arms; hearing this, she merely lifted her eyes slowly, her depths holding no anger, no defense, only a dead, barren stillness.

Xiao Jingyuan glanced at her, then turned his gaze back to Ouyang Wentian, half‑smiling: "If she's the instigator, then go kill her."

Upon hearing this, a spark of hope ignited in Ouyang Wentian's eyes; enduring the agonizing pain of his severed arm, he struggled to his feet and lunged at Empress Wang!

Empress Wang did not look at him, but gazed toward Xiao Jingyuan behind him, her eyes complex and inscrutable.

Ouyang Wentian was a martial practitioner; even with one arm severed, the Empress was no match for him.

His icy, withered hand closed around the woman's fragile neck, lifting her up as his knuckles clenched tight.

Empress Wang had resolved to die; she closed her eyes and at first did not struggle.

Only when the sensation of suffocation struck did she instinctively claw at Ouyang Wentian's hand, her two legs beneath the skirt kicking desperately.

Such a scene of top‑rankers biting each other is rare; watching the once‑unrivaled empress being pinched in the rebel's hand like an ant, the crowd felt no joy, only pity and sorrow.

Looking again at Xiao Jingyuan's expression, it was utter coldness, like a lofty deity gazing indifferently at the scene.

Just as Empress Wang's consciousness was about to fade, a harsh shout came from outside the hall: "Stop!"

Immediately, a figure bearing fierce sword qi lunged straight at Ouyang Wentian!

To evade the killing move, Ouyang Wentian unhesitatingly hurled Empress Wang forward as a meat shield!

Lin Yue saw this, quickly sheathed his sword, and rescued the Empress in time.

Everyone was startled by the sudden turn, but before they could react, they heard a sharp vocalization.

"His Majesty approaches——!"

As the words fell, Emperor Xuānwén, supported by Shen Shuangning, slowly entered the Fengming Hall.

He wore a bright‑yellow dragon robe, his hair bound with a gold crown; though his face remained pallid, the imperial dignity could not be concealed.

Those still dazed inside the hall only now slowly realized what was happening, and all fell to their knees.

Only two did not kneel: Ouyang Wentian, and Xiao Jingyuan standing beneath the dragon throne.

Ouyang Wentian stared at the living Emperor Xuānwén, his throat bursting with a venomous howl: "You're not dead? You actually aren't dead?!"

He finally realized this was a meticulously crafted deception!

Emperor Xuānwén suppressed the itch in his throat, raised his hand to point at the cult leader, and said in a deep voice: "Seize him!"

As soon as the emperor arrived, the palace guards naturally obeyed his command and moved to subdue Ouyang Wentian.

But before they could reach him, the Xuan Iron troops on both sides suddenly moved.

The palace guards wore black armor, the Xuan Iron troops silver armor.

A cold wind blew in; the silver armor of the Xuan Iron troops, illuminated by the daylight outside the hall, gleamed with a cold, hard luster, immensely imposing.

The commander of the guards, Lin Yue, seeing this, his face changed abruptly; he stepped forward and lowly shouted: "His Majesty has issued an order—do you dare block it? Are you defying the imperial command?!"

Yet the Xuan Iron soldiers remained motionless, silently facing off against the palace guards, even pointing their spear tips at Emperor Xuānwén.

The air inside the hall seemed to fall into dead silence.

Ouyang Wentian thought Xiao Jingyuan had finally seen reason, his own vitality had returned, and a surge of wild joy rose in his heart.

Just as the corner of his mouth was about to turn up, intending to utter a few provocative words, he heard from behind an icy, indifferent voice: "His life is mine."

Ouyang Wentian's smile froze on his face; he jerked his head back, locking eyes with Xiao Jingyuan's phoenix eyes stained with blood‑borne killing intent, and finally understood: Xiao Jingyuan had never intended to let him go from start to finish.

Shen Shuangning looked at the blood‑thirsty Xiao Jingyuan before her, feeling unusually alien, her heart clenching sharply.

Emperor Xuānwén felt the grip on his arm tighten a bit, so he lightly patted the back of her hand in silent comfort, then lifted his wrinkled eyelids and waved at Lin Yue, signaling him to withdraw the palace guards.

Lin Yue had no choice but to obey.

When Emperor Xuānwén and Shen Shuangning entered together, Xiao Jingyuan merely glanced at them, showing little emotion, after which his gaze locked onto Ouyang Wentian.

It seemed that only the enemy gasping for breath beneath his feet was the sole obsession he needed to settle in this life.

He lifted his foot and stomped hard, breaking one of Ouyang Wentian's legs; the latter bit his tongue to keep from crying out.

"You're not curious why I must put you to death?" Xiao Jingyuan said coldly, "My uncle's death is one; the Medicine King Valley tragedy is the other!"

The man's black eyes were deep as an abyss, clearly reflecting Ouyang Wentian's terrified, twisted expression.

"Medicine King Valley"—as soon as those three words were spoken, not only did Ouyang Wentian's face change, but even Emperor Xuánwen's pupils shrank sharply.

Ah Yuan knows everything.

He should have guessed it long ago—Xiao Jingyuan already knew he was the adopted son of Prince Yan, so how could the secrets of many years ago remain hidden from him?

Emperor Xuánwen clenched his fingers, for a moment unable to dare look at Xiao Jingyuan's face.

Ouyang Wentian had another leg broken by being stepped on, and he finally couldn't help letting out a miserable cry, shouting in pain: "Who are you? Who exactly are you?!"

Xiao Jingyuan's final sword severed the enemy's head, while he himself spat out a mouthful of black blood, propped himself on his sword and knelt down, a strand of hair sliding from his cheek—visibly turning white.

In his hazy consciousness, he was drawn into a soft, warm embrace; the petite frame trembled slightly, yet held him tightly.

Shen Shuangning cupped his chin, sticky warm blood trickling between her fingers, her voice trembling and choking: "... Xiao Jingyuan, look at me, everything is over. Let's go home, okay?"