Chapter 383

On the other side of the light curtain, the imperial city of the "Mirror Bian Liang".

Winter has arrived; the chill here seems several degrees more bitter and bone‑piercing than that of real Bian Liang.

The trees in the palace gardens have long withered; their dead branches, like twisted ghost claws, reach toward the gray‑murky sky.

Occasionally a crow sweeps past, emitting a hoarse cry, making the scene even more desolate.

Inside Funing Hall, the medicinal odor lingers, even thicker than it was a month ago.

The former "Dezhao Emperor" Zhao Kuangyin now lies completely bedridden.

His eyes are sunken, cheekbones high, the rise and fall of his chest so weak it is barely perceptible; only the occasional bellows‑like rattling in his throat proves that a spark of life remains within this body.

His former grand ambitions and towering hatred seem to have been worn away by this merciless illness and long imprisonment, leaving only the most primal, feeble struggle for life.

In the desolate hall, only two or three rigorously selected elderly eunuchs attend, each downcast and obedient, like clay and wood carvings, daring not to make a sound.

In stark contrast to the dead silence of Funing Hall, just one wall away is the emperor who truly controls this palace and even the entire False Song regime—Zhao Guangyi.

He does not reside in the orthodox‑symbolizing Purple Hall; instead he often stays in a side‑chamber study not far from Funing Hall, convenient for monitoring his brother's condition.

At this moment, the charcoal fire in the study burns brightly, dispelling the outside chill.

Zhao Guangyi, dressed in ordinary robes, sits behind the desk; before him lie not the classics or livelihood memorials, but a series of reports delivered by the Huangcheng Bureau's spies concerning the movements of court officials.

His complexion, illuminated by the charcoal fire, appears somewhat unsettled.

The news of the crown prince's grand wedding had already been transmitted via special channels.

The Chen dynasty's heir apparent's position grows ever more stable, the court above and below renewed; this fills him with an inexplicable anxiety and pressure.

Looking at himself, though he holds great power, the interior is far from peaceful.

Wang Jieren.

Zhao Guangyi did not lift his head, calling out in a low voice.

A middle‑aged eunuch with a pale, beardless face and eyes that were lively yet tinged with flattery and shrewdness immediately stepped forward from the shadows, bowing and replying:

Your Majesty, this servant is present.

This man is the Director of the Huangcheng Bureau whom Zhao Guangyi personally promoted, a confidant among confidants, tasked with surveilling officials and probing secrets.

Recently, has anyone still been secretly communicating with the Ning Palace (the residence where Emperor Zhao Kuangyin is under house arrest)? Zhao Guangyi's tone was flat, yet carried a chill.

Wang Jieren lowered his waist even further, speaking cautiously:

Your Majesty, since the previous thunderous measures, openly no one dares to have any contact with the Ning Palace.

However… according to inquiries by the subordinates, a few old officials who do not understand the times still sigh in secret, their words betraying a certain nostalgia for… the former dynasty's old affairs.

Especially… especially Li Jilong, son of Li Chuyun, who recently, while drinking with some veteran officers in the army, once remarked that 'the founding emperor's endeavors were arduous,' and so on.

Li Jilong… a flash of cold light crossed Zhao Guangyi's eyes.

He remembered that name; Li Chuyun had been a capable aide to his elder brother, now deceased, but his son still wields some influence in the military.

Such nostalgia for the 'former emperor' is something he absolutely cannot tolerate!

Moreover, Wang Jieren stole a glance at Zhao Guangyi's expression and continued:

In the palace… there are also some rumors circulating.

They say… that Her Majesty the Empress (Zhao Guangyi's principal wife) recently, over a trivial matter, caned an old palace servant who once served in the Ning Palace, prompting some old-timers to whisper disparagingly, saying… saying that Her Majesty the Empress… has a somewhat narrow mind.

Zhao Guangyi's face instantly darkened.

He slammed a memorial onto the desk with force!

Outrageous!

I toil diligently, rising early and retiring late, yet you conspire behind my back, gossiping about the palace and pining for the former dynasty?

Do you think my blade has grown dull?

Wang Jieren fell to his knees with a thud, repeatedly kowtowing:

Please calm your anger, Your Majesty! It is this servant's dereliction of duty for failing to suppress such treasonous talk in time!

Zhao Guangyi's chest heaved as he drew several rough breaths; his gaze swept over a report in the corner of the desk concerning the Chen dynasty's crown prince's grand wedding and the stable political situation, and the fury in his heart grew harder to restrain.

On what grounds can Chen Wen there enjoy father‑son harmony and a stable polity?

Yet here he must constantly guard against internal undercurrents and betrayal?

Go!

He issued the order in a cold voice.

Compile a list of those who rashly discuss state affairs and nostalgically recall the former dynasty, and present it to me in detail!

Furthermore, anyone in the palace who indulges in idle gossip, regardless of who is involved, shall be severely punished without exception!

I want everyone to know who is truly in charge of this Great Song now!

Your servant obeys the command! Wang Jieren, as if pardoned, hastily kowtowed and backed out of the study.

In the study only Zhao Guangyi's heavy breathing remained, along with the light crackle of the burning charcoal.

He leaned back in the chair, closed his eyes, and felt his temples throbbing.

Internal troubles and external threats, like invisible shackles, tightly entwined him.

He knew his methods were harsh, drawing covert resentment from court and populace alike.

But he had no alternative.

His elder brother's influence lingered like a ghost, still haunting the skies above this imperial city.

He must employ harsher means to dispel that specter completely, and only then can he sit firmly upon this hard‑won throne.

Just then, a low, hoarse voice suddenly sounded from the corner of the study, carrying a faint, barely perceptible sneer.

It appears that Your Majesty's family affairs trouble you more than state affairs.

Zhao Guangyi's eyes snapped open as he looked toward the source of the voice.

The Iron Crow Army emissary bearing the codename 'Gray Falcon' had, unbeknownst when, silently taken his place in the shadows, seeming to merge with the darkness.

Zhao Guangyi was long accustomed to appearing and disappearing mysteriously, but his mood was poor now, so his tone turned somewhat harsh.

"My family affairs are also state affairs! Aren't you urging me to stabilize the interior? Eliminating those harboring different ambitions is stabilizing the interior!"

"Huixun's voice remained as calm as ever."

"Eliminating dissidents is certainly necessary."

"But relying too much on slaughter and fear is like drinking poison to quench thirst."

"Over in the Chen Dynasty, they are using the crown prince's grand wedding to rally the people and consolidate the succession."

"Your Majesty, should you also consider establishing the heir early to settle the hearts of court and populace?"

Zhao Guangyi's eyes flickered slightly.

Huixun's words struck another of his concerns.

He had many offspring, but his legitimate son was young and of mediocre talent.

The matter of establishing an heir is of great importance; a slight mistake could trigger a new power struggle.

"This… I have my own considerations," Zhao Guangyi replied vaguely, unwilling to reveal too much of his thoughts before the Iron Crow Army.

Huixun seemed unfazed and continued:

"The northern border suffered a snow disaster; though the Chen Dynasty incurred losses, its response was timely, and the crown prince gained prestige through this experience."

"Its 'Explorer' ship has already completed a successful trial voyage; given time, it could become a hidden threat."

"The master reminds Your Majesty: do not let internal affairs cause you to overlook the true threat."

Zhao Guangyi's agitation grew worse.

How could he not know that the Chen Dynasty was his greatest internal threat?

But with internal instability, how could he devote his full strength to external affairs?

"I understand."

He suppressed his anger and spoke in a low voice.

"If there's nothing else, you may withdraw."

Huixun's silhouette, just as when he arrived, melted silently into the shadows and vanished.

The study returned to silence once more.

Zhao Guangyi could no longer remain calm.

The ghost of his elder brother, the divided loyalties of court officials, palace rumors, the pressure of the Iron Crow Army, and furthermore the Chen Dynasty flourishing in the south…

All of this weighed on him like heavy stones, almost making it hard to breathe.

He walked to the window and flung it open.

A blast of icy wind surged in, making the papers on the desk rustle and slightly clearing his heated mind.

He gazed at the withered courtyard outside; his eyes eventually settled on the direction of Funing Hall, complex and inscrutable.

What lay within was the greatest obstacle on his path to power, and also the source of the fears and guilt he could not speak of.

This road was his own choice.

No matter how difficult or bloody, he could only grit his teeth and press on.

Until either he completely mastered all of this… or was consumed by it.

The palace of the False Song grew ever darker and more unsettling in the winter's cold wind.