On the nineteenth of February, the sky was gloomy, and leaden clouds covered the heavens.
In the courtyard of the General's residence, elite soldiers clad in black armor stood like chess pieces, their posture rigid, long swords at their sides, motionless as if carved from clay. The three thousand Shadow Guards revealed their figures, still shrouded in darkness under the dim daylight.
Crows, accustomed to feasting on carrion, perched on the high walls, their keen eyes fixed on the scene within the courtyard, sensing the scent of blood.
Chu Mingyun entered the hall from an inner chamber, his raven-black hair neatly tied, and his cold features reflected in the dark-colored light armor he wore. Qin Zhao approached a few steps, lowering his eyes as he walked out, "How is the situation in the palace?"
"The Imperial Guards are on alert, everything is normal, and Li Yanzhen is still unconscious."
"What about the Feathered Forest Army?"
"No movement yet, but a large number of skilled soldiers have been dispatched near Jianzhang Palace, ready to respond at any moment," Qin Zhao explained. "The long streets in front of the Vermilion Bird Gate have also been cleared."
Chu Mingyun paused at the door, gazing at the vague shadows outside. "And the Su family?"
"No activity there either," Qin Zhao hesitated for a moment, then continued, "The surveillance reported that after returning home yesterday, Su Shiyu locked himself in the ancestral hall, refusing both food and information."
"He's fasting in the ancestral hall?" Chu Mingyun turned his head to look, and after receiving confirmation, he withdrew his gaze, sighing softly to himself. "Is he planning to starve himself to death to seek revenge on me?" After a pause, he told Qin Zhao, "Send Du Yue to check on him."
"When the news arrived, Du Yue happened to be nearby and has already gone."
"Well," Chu Mingyun chuckled ambiguously, "consider it a rare display of his cleverness."
"Brother, can't you wait a bit longer?" Qin Zhao couldn't help but ask. "You still have injuries."
Chu Mingyun shook his head, smiling softly. "The arrow is already on the string." With that, he pushed open the door.
The hall doors swung open, and he walked out slowly. The Shadow Guards all knelt in unison, uttering in unison, "My lord." Chu Mingyun mounted his horse, his gaze sweeping over the crows fluttering away in fear. He wrapped the reins around his palm, slender fingers resting on the hilt. "Let's go."
The commander of the Imperial Guards personally welcomed them outside the palace gates. Seeing the black-clad riders traversing the empty streets, raising dust in their wake, he bowed deeply in respect.
Chu Mingyun suddenly pulled the reins, the black horse neighed and came to a halt. The guards knelt before him, and he squinted his eyes, gazing at the multitude of palace buildings. He was reminded of his response to his master on Cangwu Mountain all those years ago.
"Of course, I seek revenge. But who do you think my enemy is? The Huns who slaughtered the city on orders, the mastermind behind the invasion, or the officials who abandoned the city and fled? None of them. Following orders, the strong preying on the weak, it's a law, a mistake lies in the weakness of the nation."
"My enemy is this world."
A thunderous roar echoed in the sky, lightning cut through the firmament, illuminating the dark clouds with a pale white light. The accumulated heavy clouds collapsed with a resounding crash, and torrential rain poured down.
The palace gates opened wide.
Silence enveloped the sleeping chamber. Li Yanzhen slowly opened his eyes, his gaze vacant, wandering aimlessly for a while before finally sitting up, supported by the bed. The surroundings were eerily empty, and he coughed a few times, lifting the brocade coverlet and getting out of bed. He absentmindedly left the sleeping chamber, and every step seemed to tread on a void as if in a dream. Unconsciously, he reached the study and, when he came to his senses, stood in front of the wooden statue.
The study was empty too, except for the exquisite statue of a woman missing a face, silently facing him.
Li Yanzhen stared at it blankly for a long time. Suddenly, he grabbed the carving knife on the table without hesitation and struck the statue. The knife carved softly, wood chips falling, and he proceeded without a moment of hesitation. Gradually, the features of the woman became clear—gentle eyebrows, graceful eyes, a faint smile at the corners of her lips. Everything rewound in his memory to the sunny days of his youth, stepping through a carpet of apricot blossoms.
The carving knife slipped from his hand, falling to the ground. Li Yanzhen stepped back, looking at it, smiling suddenly. "Sister, you look so beautiful. Can I paint a picture of you?"
There was no response. He slowly reached for the candle holder on the table, lit the wooden statue, and let the remnants of his youthful ambiguity turn into a lingering fragrance.
Lu Qinghe carried the medicine bowl as she turned a corner in the palace corridor. Suddenly, a group of palace maids rushed towards her. She managed to avoid a collision by skillfully steadying the medicine, watching as they stumbled into a flower stand, their skirts stained with mud. Concern tightened her chest as she hurriedly made her way to the sleeping chambers, but Li Yanzhen was nowhere to be found.
The medicinal bowl fell, creating a dark pool of medicine on the ground. Lu Qinghe dashed into the rain-soaked chaos, searching frantically. The palace was in turmoil, with some areas engaged in fierce battles, while others remained eerily silent. Countless palace servants rushed past her in disarray, their voices blending chaotically with the rain.
Soaked to the bone, her chest felt as if it would burst. She suddenly spotted a group of guards rushing by, heading towards the study. Lu Qinghe was about to stop and inquire when she realized something was amiss. Despite wearing the attire of guards, their aggressive posture hinted at hostility. She had glimpsed Imperial Guards and attendants entangled in combat during the earlier skirmish.
Firelight flickered in the study, vivid against the dark rain curtain. Without hesitation, Lu Qinghe caught up, swiftly dispatching the last guard with a deft sword strike, taking his blade. She stepped on the fallen guard's shoulder, leaped over him, and landed in front of the study, blocking their path.
The guards, faced with an unexpected palace maid, glared menacingly. "Step aside if you don't want to die!"
Lu Qinghe took a deep breath, brandishing the sword. "I am Lu Qinghe, daughter of the Minister of Justice Lu Shizhi. I am here to protect the Emperor. Traitors and rebels must pass through my blade first!"
The guards exchanged glances, then collectively charged at her.
Surprisingly, there was no fear in her eyes as she met their advance with her sword.
The world was too noisy, and the pounding of her own heartbeat drowned in the cacophony. Unbeknownst to her, the door to the hall had opened silently. With a final strike, Lu Qinghe kicked away the fallen bodies, panting heavily. Rain washed away the blood on her face, and as she turned, she locked eyes with a pair that exuded tranquility.
Li Yanzhen silently watched her, then approached, taking her ice-cold hand, leading her back into the hall.
The study was filled with an inexplicable fragrance. Something near the window had turned into white ashes, the window frame charred, half of the curtain burned, drenched by the rain pouring in.
"Your Majesty, this is..." Lu Qinghe turned to look at him, a brocade handkerchief adhering to her cheek. Li Yanzhen remained silent, attentively wiping away the raindrops from her face. She hesitated for a moment, then smiled, not pulling away. Li Yanzhen finally brushed her scattered hair behind her ear, guiding her to sit on a nearby couch. Glancing outside, he finally spoke, "It seems the rain has intensified?"
Lu Qinghe listened carefully; amidst the pouring rain, the sounds of clashing swords and ringing metal were getting closer. After a brief hesitation, she replied, "Yes, it's getting heavier."
Li Yanzhen nodded. "No wonder it's so noisy."
Rolling thunder, the raindrops hammered on the iron armor with a crisp sound.
Chu Mingyun wiped away the rain from his face, calmly observing the guard captain soaked in blood not far away. The palace guards had already switched allegiance, leaving only the captain resisting, vehemently accusing the leader of the Imperial Guards of rebellion and defying the will of the heavens, cursing his miserable fate.
Chu Mingyun suddenly curled his lips, a faint smile appearing just as the rain began to fall more heavily. He walked over with a sword in hand, the captain lifting his long blade to strike. The clash of swords echoed, and rainwater splashed as Chu Mingyun was forced back a step. Nonetheless, he countered, vigorously unleashing a strike that could sever both sword and bone.
The long blade traced a dazzling arc in the rain curtain, but it missed its mark, cutting through emptiness. The captain stared wide-eyed in disbelief, unable to comprehend the scene. In an instant, Chu Mingyun's sword, along with his throat, was pierced by the captain's sword. He couldn't utter a sound, the bloodshot eyes expressing deep resentment.
Chu Mingyun didn't spare him a glance but gazed at the vast palace buildings shrouded in layers of rain. His voice, colder than the rain, echoed, "I am the will of heaven."
He withdrew his sword, stepping over the lifeless body. The rain continued to wash the armor and sword, creating a brilliant display of residual red on the white jade steps.
The rain intensified, the strong wind causing the window lattice to rattle. The long wind penetrated the hall, extinguishing the fireworks on the candles with a flicker. The shrine was dim.
Kneeling beneath the ancestral tablets, Su Shiyu slowly lifted his gaze. His eyes fell on the cold light reflected on Su Jue's tablet, staring at it with fluctuating emotions.
"Father," after a long time, Su Shiyu whispered, "...did I make a mistake?"
His words lingered in the silence, but the ancestral tablets of several generations of the Su family remained silent, offering no response.
The window suddenly burst open, and the chilling wind and rain poured into the shrine.
She heard countless footsteps crossing the torrential rain, approaching clearly. The man as beautiful as a red lotus finally arrived, carrying his sword across the long path of blood, pushing open the heavy palace doors.
Lu Qinghe hastily stood in front, her gaze fixed on Chu Mingyun. Her hand gripping the sword tightened, and she couldn't help but tremble slightly. She knew her capabilities well; dealing with the black-clad figures behind him would be a struggle, let alone Chu Mingyun, the experienced General. However, she also felt an inexplicable sense of closeness to him. She didn't want to be his enemy, but even more so, she didn't want to witness Li Yanzhen's death.
Chu Mingyun glanced over, his face devoid of any expression.
Lu Qinghe forced herself to meet his gaze, struggling with inner turmoil. Suddenly, a hand reached out from behind, pulling her into an embrace. She stiffened, feeling Li Yanzhen's hand covering hers as she held the sword. Lu Qinghe remained frozen for a moment, and Li Yanzhen sighed lightly, squeezing her hand. Unable to hold back her emotions any longer, she slowly released her grip on the sword.
With a resounding clatter, the long blade fell to the ground.
Thus, the coup d'etat came to a swift conclusion in the pouring rain.