Chapter 122.

Time tore by as the two sides stood locked in a tense standoff. Three-quarters of an hour had passed, yet the commander of the Jinyiwei, tasked with storming the Kunning Palace, was nowhere to be seen. This delay darkened Yin Chengjing's already grim expression. Meanwhile, Yin Chengyu, calm and collected, revealed nothing. Was he truly prepared for this, or was he putting on a masterful act to confuse and unnerve?

Yin Chengjing’s patience had worn razor-thin. He snapped at a eunuch, ordering him to investigate the situation outside Qianqing Palace.

Fifteen minutes later, the eunuch returned, trembling, his robes streaked with blood. Panic gripped his voice: “There’s chaos outside! The palace gates are breached, and our forces are overwhelmed. Even the commander has fallen!”

Control was slipping through his fingers, and Yin Chengjing’s face twisted with fury and alarm. Beside him, Consort De went pale. He barked, “What about Kunning Palace?”

“It’s heavily guarded by the Jinwu Guard and Yulin Guard,” the eunuch stammered.

Those guards were not his men. Yin Chengjing’s face darkened further as realization set in. Glancing at Yin Chengyu’s composed demeanor, a violent thought stabbed through his chest like a blade. “You’ve been prepared all along. When did you figure it out?”

His voice sharpened with anger as he interrogated Yin Chengyu. Simultaneously, he signaled Consort De with a subtle glance, inching closer to the inner hall. Then, without warning, he roared, “Do it!”

At his command, Consort De and her soldiers surged into the inner hall, taking advantage of the commotion. They seized Emperor Longfeng, who had been eavesdropping nervously near the door, and held him hostage. Soldiers quickly closed ranks around the two, shielding them.

But curiously, the guards who had blades poised over Yin Ciguang and Gao Xian withdrew their weapons without executing the order to kill.

Yin Chengjing’s eye twitched, suspicion gnawing at him. “What are you waiting for? Kill them already!”

But the two soldiers instead stepped forward, placing themselves protectively in front of Yin Ciguang and Gao Xian.

Gao Xian dusted off his robes, smirking as he helped Yin Ciguang to his feet. His voice dripped with mocking confidence. “Third Prince, stop wasting your energy. Surrender while you still have the chance.”

Yin Chengjing's arrogance had blinded him, leaving Qianqing Palace thinly guarded. Barely a dozen elite soldiers remained inside, with only a handful stationed outside. Twenty men in total were tasked with protecting him and his mother while subduing three adversaries.

The odds were laughable.

And judging by Yin Ciguang and Gao Xian’s unruffled demeanor, they clearly had more tricks up their sleeves. Direct confrontation would be suicide.

Grinding his teeth, Yin Chengjing recognized the power imbalance. Desperation clouding his judgment, he grabbed Emperor Longfeng and pressed a blade to his throat. “Everyone, back into the inner hall!” he snarled.

“Y-You ungrateful son!” Emperor Longfeng sputtered weakly. He had already endured one shock too many and now, reduced to a trembling heap, could only manage a feeble curse.

Yin Chengjing didn’t spare him a glance. His focus remained fixed on Yin Chengyu and Yin Ciguang, his mind racing. If he could use the Emperor’s life to force their surrender, it might buy him time. But deep down, he knew they wouldn’t care if he killed the Emperor. That would suit their plans just fine.

Left with no choice, he opted for retreat. With elite guards flanking him, Yin Chengjing dragged the Emperor out of Qianqing Palace, intent on regrouping with Gong Hongfei. The entire coup hinged on Gong Hongfei’s cooperation—secured only because of the damning leverage Yin Chengjing held over him.

Yin Chengyu and Yin Ciguang let him go without resistance, retreating into the inner hall, their calmness infuriatingly unshaken.

The ranks of the Jinyiwei had swelled over the years, with five divisions under the South and North Offices commanding more than forty thousand enforcers. Nearly half—over twenty thousand—answered directly to Gong Hongfei.

The plan seemed foolproof: use the Jinyiwei to seize control of the palace, eliminate the Crown Prince, and stabilize the situation. From there, he’d leverage Yao’s clan and her unborn child to coerce the powerful Yao family into switching sides. With the Jinyiwei’s might and the Yao family's forces combined, controlling the entire capital would be a foregone conclusion.

But Gong Hongfei turned out to be an absolute waste of flesh. Twenty thousand soldiers, and he couldn’t even hold the four gates of the Yan’s palace.

Yin Chengjing seethed with rage as he dragged Emperor Longfeng along, heading for the Xuanwu Gate. Yet, before they got close, the deafening clash of battle reached his ears, and the thick stench of blood hung in the air. He motioned to halt, narrowing his eyes toward the chaos. By the flickering firelight, he could make out the retreating Jinyiwei, with Gong Hongfei pathetically shielded at the rear.

The palace guards, indistinguishable by their gold-and-silver scale armor, had become sharply divided. Those with black armbands pressed forward in a three-sided encirclement, closing in on Gong Hongfei’s fleeing forces.

Realizing the fight was lost, Gong Hongfei didn’t even try to make a last stand. Coward that he was, he opted to flee under the protection of his personal guards.

From a distance, Yin Chengjing locked eyes with the man and knew instantly—this one couldn’t be relied on.

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Yin Chengyu and Yin Ciguang advancing with the palace guards. Whether they wanted Emperor Longfeng dead or not, they were keeping up appearances, trailing just far enough behind him to avoid confrontation while he still held the Emperor as a hostage.

In mere moments, the tide had turned against him. Yin Chengjing saw no choice but to prepare for the worst. "Head to the moat," he ordered sharply. His final escape route awaited there.

The group arrived at the edge of the moat, no path left to retreat. Yin Chengyu and Yin Ciguang closed in, leading the guards and offering their feigned pleas. "Brother, release Father, and I’ll spare your life," Yin Chengyu called out, his tone dripping with condescension.

Even Emperor Longfeng, trembling like a leaf, chimed in. "Yes, yes. If you release me now, I’ll pardon this whole affair."

Only an idiot would believe such obvious lies. Yin Chengjing scoffed, his voice laced with icy disdain. "Do you take me for a fool?"

Gripping his blade tightly in one hand and holding onto Emperor Longfeng’s belt with the other, he barked a single word: "Jump!"

In the blink of an eye, they plunged into the cold, dark waters of the moat.

Emperor Longfeng hit the water, sputtering and struggling as the guards dared not loose their arrows, forced to run along the banks instead. As they neared the base of the city wall, Yin Chengjing shoved the half-drowned Emperor toward the surface. Taking a deep breath, he dove into the depths, swimming toward freedom.

He had planned for this. Outside the walls, a contingency awaited. Once past this barrier, he’d regroup and live to fight another day.

Let them bark and shout—he wasn’t finished yet.

Meanwhile, Emperor Longfeng, frail and useless, flailed helplessly before sinking beneath the surface.

"Save the Emperor!" Yin Chengyu bellowed theatrically, rushing to the riverbank in a display of hollow concern.

The Imperial Guards splashed into the water like dumplings being dropped into a boiling pot. Half of them rushed to save lives, while the other half went after Yin Chengjing.

Yin Chengyu's face was a picture of urgency, but his eyes stayed locked on the flailing figure of Emperor Longfeng sinking and resurfacing in the water. In his mind, he thought, If the old man just drowns here and now, it’d save me a hell of a lot of trouble.

Just as he was indulging in that grim fantasy, a figure beside him stripped off his outer robe and dove into the water. His brow furrowed as he turned to look, only to see Yin Ciguang already taking the emperor from the hands of the floundering Imperial Guards.

With the guards' help, Yin Ciguang dragged the emperor to the shore. He knelt without hesitation, his movements deft and precise as he pressed down on the emperor’s chest, forcing the water from his lungs in rhythmic pumps.

The barely conscious Emperor Longfeng coughed up several mouthfuls of water before cracking his eyes open. His blurry gaze landed on Yin Ciguang, soaked to the bone and dripping wet.

For a brief moment, the emperor stared at him blankly, his lips trembling as if to speak. But before any words escaped, he slipped back into unconsciousness.

The palace descended into chaos. The emperor’s near-drowning left everyone scrambling.

Gong Hongfei and the mutinous Jinyiwei had already thrown down their weapons in surrender, but Yin Chengjing? That slippery bastard had vanished into the city’s network of waterways, escaping through the palace moat. The Imperial Guards only managed to drag back Consort De.

Amid the pandemonium, Yin Chengjing made his move. Protected by his personal guards, he tore through the city gates at Deshengmen, galloping hard toward the outskirts of the capital.

He wasn’t running blind, though. He had laid his plans well. Splitting his forces into three groups, he sent them fleeing in different directions to throw off pursuit. As for himself, he took a hidden path leading to a secluded farmhouse in the countryside.

That farmhouse wasn’t just a hideout. It was his ace in the hole, the key to rising again when the dust settled.

*

In a remote farmhouse, trapped in a suffocating nightmare.

Yao Shi and Uju were confined in a cramped, airless shack, with no windows to peer through, their freedom stolen and nailed shut by wooden boards. Armed guards stood sentinel at the door, making escape a fantasy.

A few days ago, they’d gone to sleep unaware of the storm brewing. When they awoke, they were prisoners. Apart from the grim-faced sentry delivering their meager meals, they hadn’t seen a soul. Not a hint of where they were or why they’d been taken.

After four or five days of this hell, the stillness of the night was shattered. Two hulking women barged in, their heavy hands dragging the pair from their uneasy sleep. With barely enough time to throw on some clothes, they were shoved into an inconspicuous carriage, its dark, unassuming shell hiding its sinister purpose.

Uju perched by the window, quietly lifting the edge of the curtain. Outside, the carriage bumped along a narrow path, flanked by mounted soldiers. From the relentless clatter of hooves, she guessed the escort was sizable.

Her fleeting thought of leaping from the carriage died instantly. She leaned back, her mind churning. If this escape under cover of night involved her, it could only mean one thing: Yin Chengjing’s world was unraveling.

Since Yao Shi’s confinement, the Third Prince’s estate had been locked down tighter than a miser’s purse. Uju hadn’t been able to contact her allies in the Eastern Bureau, leaving her stranded in silence. But she knew this much—schemers like the Crown Prince and Xue Shu wouldn’t so easily abandon a pawn as valuable as her.

Her fingers tightened around her bracelet, its beads glimmering faintly in the dim light. It was her favorite piece—a dazzling strand of exotic crystal, a gift that turned heads. But sentiment had no place in survival. Without hesitation, she ripped it apart, the beads tumbling into her palm.

One by one, she dropped them through the window. The night’s darkness swallowed them, the carriage’s speed scattering the tiny crystals like breadcrumbs on a forgotten path.

The beads didn’t last long. When the last one was gone, she sat back, her mind already scheming. But before she could devise her next move, the carriage jolted, slowing to a sudden halt.

Hoofbeats approached. Uju shoved Yao Shi aside, muscling her way to the door. She peeked through the curtain just as Yin Chengjing stumbled off his horse, his face haggard, his pristine armor sullied with grime and desperation.

He marched straight for the carriage, yanked the door open, and climbed inside. His eyes darted to Yao Shi and Uju, and his tense features softened—if only slightly. He barked orders to his guards outside, commanding a temporary rest, before shutting the door behind him.

The carriage was cramped before; now it was suffocating. Yao Shi cowered in the corner, clutching her belly like a frightened child. Uju, however, wasn’t wasting time. Her sharp eyes followed Yin Chengjing as he stripped off his travel-stained clothes, analyzing every move, every angle, calculating the odds of using him as her ticket out of this mess.

It was clear now—Yin Chengjing was running for his life.

This wasn’t some calculated maneuver; it was desperation. Everything about him screamed that his carefully spun web of rebellion had unraveled. And yet, even in his downfall, he had dragged her and Yao Shi along, likely banking on their connections to claw his way back to power.

Uju wasn’t about to let his gamble ruin her. She still had the Crown Prince’s promises in her pocket and wasn’t interested in becoming a fugitive tied to a failed coup.

Crouching like Yao Shi, she kept her body taut, every muscle coiled. Her half-lidded eyes stayed fixed on Yin Chengjing, weighing her chances. She didn’t have time to wait for the Eastern Bureau to find her. If freedom was coming, she’d take it herself—one way or another.

She’d fought Yin Chengjing before, and he wasn’t necessarily stronger than her.

Her fingers brushed the icy dagger strapped to her thigh. With a deep breath, Uju steadied herself. The moment Yin Chengjing turned his back, she struck, yanking the blade free and plunging it toward his heart without hesitation.

Sensing danger, Yin Chengjing twisted to avoid the blow, but the cramped carriage didn’t allow for much room. The dagger bit into his right shoulder. Uju didn’t waste the opportunity. She lunged forward, her belt flashing in her hands as she looped it around his neck, trying to strangle him.

Injured but far from weak, Yin Chengjing’s grip locked around her wrist like iron.

Uju adjusted, releasing the belt and switching her focus entirely to choking him with her hands. The struggle between them escalated, their movements slamming them both out of the carriage.

The elite guards stationed outside were immediately on high alert, closing in. Uju’s eyes darted, realizing the odds weren’t in her favor. In a bold move, she yanked her dagger free and drove it into one of the horses pulling the carriage. The animal reared in pain, bolting forward and scattering the guards in its path.

Seizing the chaos, Uju rolled to the side, grabbed the reins of a nearby horse, and swung herself onto its back. Without a second glance, she galloped into the pitch-black forest.

The guards moved to pursue, but Yin Chengjing’s voice cut through their haste. “Don’t chase her!”

Clutching his wounded shoulder, his face twisted with fury, but his mind remained sharp. Gritting his teeth, he barked orders. “Retrieve the carriage. We leave immediately.”

Let Uju run—he had no time to waste on her now. As long as Yao Shi and the child inside her were safe, he had leverage. Yao Zhaoan would do his bidding, no matter the cost.

The runaway carriage was soon stopped, and Yin Chengjing stepped aboard, his eyes gleaming with something dark and predatory as he took in Yao Shi’s pale, terrified face. His lips curved into a chilling smile. “Don’t be afraid. Behave yourself, and you’ll have plenty of good days ahead.”

Yao Shi trembled, nodding frantically, her face a mask of fear.

Tossing her a pouch of medicine, Yin Chengjing ordered, “Patch me up.”

Her hands shook as she obeyed, carefully applying the medicine and wrapping his wound with strips of cloth. When the task was done, she shrank into the corner of the carriage, trying to make herself invisible.

The journey dragged on, the carriage racing through the night until it finally came to a stop. The sound of rushing water reached Yao Shi’s ears as she was helped down by two stern-faced women.

Yin Chengjing had changed into simple, commoner’s clothing, and his guards had traded their armor for the guise of ordinary servants. The group moved toward a ferry dock, mingling seamlessly with the crowd waiting for a boat.

Head bowed, Yao Shi’s body quivered—not with fear, but with tension.

The dock, the boats—it all matched the plan. But as her eyes darted around, she couldn’t identify who was supposed to be her contact.

Her hidden hand clenched and relaxed repeatedly as she struggled to keep calm. She reminded herself that things couldn’t possibly get worse. If she played her cards right, there might still be a way out.

Thinking of the promise made to her, she suddenly gripped her stomach, doubling over with what appeared to be pain. Her voice trembled as she spoke the agreed-upon code words: “My stomach hurts… It feels like the baby’s in distress. Can we rest for a moment?”

———TN: Oh, come on, Ciguang—what the hell are you getting yourself into now?