novelhk Chapter 1141: Mission to Northern Qi, a Storm Brewing!
Chapter 1141: Mission to Northern Qi, a Storm Brewing!
Emperor Qing suddenly laughed, a hint of coldness in his voice: "A net? I'd like to see who dares to weave a net under my nose." He stood up, his imperial majesty fully unleashed at that moment. "Strengthen the palace guards, especially around the Empress Dowager and the Crown Prince. Also, send people to keep an eye on the Princess's residence; report any unusual activity immediately."
“Yes,” Hong Sixiang replied, but then hesitated for a moment, “Your Majesty, if the newly promoted Grandmaster is truly related to the Eldest Princess…”
"Then she has crossed the line." Emperor Qing's voice was as cold as iron. "I can tolerate her playing power games, I can tolerate her cultivating her own power, and I can even tolerate her resentment towards me. But a Grandmaster is different—that is a power that can shake the foundations of the nation, something she should not touch. Even if she has already left the capital."
Hong Sixiang nodded in agreement, but sighed inwardly. He knew better than anyone the complex relationship between the Eldest Princess and Emperor Qing. These siblings were not only blood relatives but also power rivals, mutually suspicious yet interdependent. If the newly promoted Grandmaster was truly related to Li Yunrui, it would likely shatter this delicate balance completely.
"There's one more thing," Emperor Qing suddenly said. "Go check the detailed records of people entering and leaving the capital recently, especially those before and after Yan Xiaoyi's injury. It's impossible for a Grandmaster's advancement to a higher level to be completely without leaving a trace, no matter how well they concealed it."
"Send men to seal off that house and secretly investigate all the residents in the surrounding area." Emperor Qing interrupted him and went straight into his study. "Also, after the morning court session tomorrow, have Chen Pingping come to see me."
A hint of surprise flashed in Hong Sixiang's eyes. Chen Pingping, the head of the Censorate and the most mysterious and powerful minister in the Qing Kingdom, had not been summoned by the Emperor for a long time.
"Does His Majesty suspect that the Censorate is involved in this matter?"
Emperor Qing did not answer, but simply waved his hand. Hong Sixiang tactfully withdrew, leaving Emperor Qing alone in the study, deep in thought.
The candlelight had gone out halfway, plunging the study into even greater darkness. Emperor Qing sat in the shadows, yet his eyes shone with unusual brightness. He realized he might be caught in a meticulously planned trap. Yan Xiaoyi's injury, Li Yunrui's suspicion, the newly appointed Grandmaster… these seemingly independent events were like scattered chess pieces on a board, and he hadn't yet deciphered his opponent's strategy.
What unsettled him even more was that the other party seemed to know everything about his reaction. Yan Xiaoyi's concealment of his injury was all too coincidental, so coincidental that it seemed to be guiding his thoughts.
"If this is truly a trap, what do you hope I will take next?" Emperor Qing asked softly into the empty study, as if conversing with an unseen adversary.
Outside the window, the first rays of dawn pierced the night, illuminating the golden roof of the palace. A new day was about to begin, but for Emperor Qing, the contest unfolding in the shadows was only just beginning.
He must find out the newly promoted Grandmaster and uncover his true purpose; otherwise, not only will his imperial power be challenged, but the stability of the entire Qing Kingdom may also be shaken.
The key to all of this seems to lie with one person—his younger sister, Princess Li Yunrui.
"Go ahead and have someone write her a letter to find out exactly what she's planning to do."
The voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable authority. The words echoed in the empty hall, each syllable seemingly carefully considered, containing countless layers of meaning.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Hong Siyang bowed in response, without even raising his head. His hunched figure stretched long in the candlelight, like a silent statue.
After years of companionship, he had long understood who the Emperor was referring to as "her"—it was naturally Li Yunrui.
Hong Si quietly left the imperial study, his footsteps so light they were barely audible. He knew he wouldn't get any sleep tonight; he had to personally arrange the delivery routes for the letters. Once outside the palace gates, he headed towards the Eastern Depot, his mind already calculating which clandestine agent would be the safest option.
Inside the imperial study, Emperor Qing was alone. He rose and walked to the window, pushed open the carved window frame, and gazed at the northern night sky. The moonlight was cold, and the stars were sparse, just like his mood at that moment.
The name Fan Xian lingered in his mind. This young man who had suddenly appeared bore the shadow of Ye Qingmei, yet he exuded his own sharp edge. Emperor Qing's lips curled into a complex and enigmatic smile.
"How much do you actually know?" he muttered to himself.
Meanwhile, thirty miles outside Kyoto, Fan Xian's convoy was traveling through the night.
The Road North
The convoy consisted of five carriages and more than ten guards, traveling at a moderate pace along the official road. Inside the most sturdy carriage in the middle was Xiao En—the once-powerful intelligence chief of Northern Qi, now a white-haired, emaciated old man.
Fan Xian sat in the carriage at the front, holding a book in his hands, but he couldn't read a single word. His thoughts were wandering far away.
Gao Yao's words were like a curse, lingering in his mind.
"Emperor Qing never truly trusted anyone, including Chen Pingping."
"How do you think Ye Qingmei died?"
"The world needs to change, real change."
Every word was like a key, trying to open a door he had never thought of pushing open. Fan Xian closed his eyes, the look in Teng Zijing's eyes before he died flashing through his mind. That loyal guard, who fell to protect him, and the indifferent treatment from the entire system—that was something he could never get over.
"Sir, there's a fork in the road ahead. Which way should we go?" Wang Qinian's voice came from outside the carriage.
Fan Xian opened his eyes and lifted the carriage curtain: "According to the original plan, we will take the western route."
“The western route is fifty miles longer,” Wang Qinian reminded.
"I know," Fan Xian said calmly. "Safety is the most important thing."
This was the third time he had changed his route on this trip. After leaving Kyoto, he became more cautious, even suspicious. Every time he set up camp, he would personally inspect the surrounding terrain; he would only eat after seeing the poison-testing silver needles used to test the food.
The convoy continued its journey, the sound of wheels crushing gravel particularly clear in the night. Fan Xian lowered the curtain and took out a jade pendant from his robes—the only memento left by Teng Zijing. He stroked the warm, smooth jade, silently vowing: no matter what, he would find out the truth, not only about his mother Ye Qingmei, but also about this seemingly prosperous world that was actually turbulent beneath the surface.
Five miles away from Fan Xian's convoy, on a high slope, three men in black quietly lurked in the woods.
"The Black Riders have retreated," one of them whispered.
“As expected.” The leader of the men in black spoke in a hoarse voice, “Chen Pingping never does anything that doesn’t benefit him. Only by letting Fan Xian face the risks alone can we see his true value.”
"Who are those people who followed Fan Xian? They don't seem to be ours."
The leader of the men in black was silent for a moment: "I don't know. But remember, our mission is only to observe and record. Unless Fan Xian's life is in danger, we will not interfere."
"clear."
The three disappeared back into the night, as if they had never existed.
In another direction, a group of people were indeed secretly following Fan Xian's convoy. Their movements were even more stealthy; they controlled their breathing extremely quietly, clearly highly trained individuals. These people wore ordinary merchant attire, yet each possessed sharp eyes and a steady gait.