Chapter 502
Zhao Qun disagreed with his brother and sister-in-law, instead finding the villagers' words more sensible. "Brother, sister-in-law, this is no time for arguing. Let's head home quickly, pack up, and get to the mountains!"
Zhao Quan shook his head. "Go to the mountains? I'm not going. Up there there's no food or water, not even a place to shelter from the wind and rain. I'm not putting myself through that misery!"
His wife chimed in, "The head of the household is right. Going up there is too miserable. Our family isn't leaving, and neither should you. Staying home is far more comfortable."
Hearing this from the older brother and his wife, Kohana was so angry she laughed, no longer caring about saving face for them. "You know full well why there's no shelter, brother and sister-in-law! Qun-ge found a cave we could hide in, but sister-in-law gave it to her own family! If we'd gone up two days earlier, we could have built a simple shack, but no—you kept stopping the whole family from going to the mountains. Are you trying to get everyone killed?"
At Kohana's words, the woman's face darkened. "Sister-in-law, are you blaming us? Everyone says that story about the goddess isn't to be trusted. Look at the blazing sun in the sky—does it look like rain is coming?"
Hearing the argument below, Yue Fuguang shook her head and flew the vehicle further away, hoping only that the younger couple would stay firm in their resolve and make it up the mountain soon.
The flying vehicle traveled through the air for another half hour. Yue Fuguang, who had been resting with her eyes closed, heard the system's excited cry: [Master, look, we're here!]
Yue Fuguang opened her eyes while reaching up to rub her ear. "Little Zhu, we're here, that's all—why must you be so worked up?" So undignified, she thought. Where was the ethereal aura befitting a divine artifact?
[Master, we arrived just in time—caught Prince Cheng making his move! How could Little Zhu not be excited? In all my thousands of years, I've never witnessed a palace coup!]
The system spoke with such genuine emotion about living thousands of years that if Yue Fuguang hadn't been so focused on looking down, she might have noticed something off. As it was, she assumed it was just putting on another show.
Below them lay the capital of Southern Yue—Gan City. The city was eerily quiet; even though it was broad daylight, all the citizens had their doors and windows shut, not a single person on the streets.
Yet through the alleys and streets, fully armored soldiers of the Southern Yue army marched in patrol, weapons in hand.
Especially on Xihua Street, where the wealthy and powerful resided, there were thousands of soldiers keeping close watch on every official residence.
It was the afternoon, and Yue Fuguang guessed that the Southern Yue officials were all trapped in their government offices. The people in their homes served as leverage and hostages.
"So all these officials were just doing their jobs when—boom—their boss suddenly changes. What a tragicomedy of human life."
[Master, it's not over yet. Whether the boss changes, and to whom, is still up in the air!]
"What do you mean? The whole capital is in Prince Cheng's hands and he still can't take the throne? Is he really that useless?"
[Isn't it obvious? Several of his men have already been bought off, and the fool doesn't even know it!]
Yue Fuguang's eyes lit up. "Little Zhu, Prince Cheng must take the throne—I've decided, and no one's changing that!"
Useless was good. A useless ruler would help Dayan take Southern Yue faster. If they got another cunning emperor like Gan Sheng on the throne, it'd be a headache for Dayan, and she might have to intervene with targeted strikes herself.
Those who sat on the throne all carried a bit of destiny with them. The less she had to act directly, the better.
[Understood. Rest assured, Master—today, no matter who dies, Prince Cheng will come out fine!]
Feng Tang silently gave the two bosses a thumbs-up. He too thought that the somewhat dimwitted Prince Cheng ascending the throne best served Dayan's interests.
"So this is Southern Yue's imperial palace? It looks quite similar to Dayan's." It had its own style, but the foundations were clearly the same.
[It's all from one nation split apart. Even after two or three hundred years, the heritage left by their ancestors isn't so easily changed.]
The palace was even more heavily garrisoned—squads of armored soldiers patrolled between the halls, and like the common homes outside, every palace gate was shut tight, not a single eunuch or maid in sight.
"Little Zhu, where are the emperor and Prince Cheng now?"
[Master, look at the grand hall right below us—that's Yuchen Hall, where Emperor Gan Sheng is resting.] As the system's words faded, the flying vehicle also turned invisible and landed at the entrance of Yuchen Hall.
Hearing faint voices from inside, Yue Fuguang made a silencing gesture to Shen Chunying and the other two.
Then she pressed an invisibility talisman onto each of them and casually stepped off the flying vehicle.
Shen Chunying and the others tried to stop her but it was too late; they hurried to follow, flanking Yue Fuguang on either side to keep her in the middle, while Feng Tang lingered three steps behind in a defensive stance.
"We pay our respects to Your Majesty!" The words were spoken, but there was no kneeling—not even a slight bow.
It was at this moment that Yue Fuguang, through the wooden lattice window, saw a stalwart man in full armor walking step by step toward the dragon bed.
Compared to the gaunt emperor on the bed, Prince Cheng was in the prime of his life, just past forty. His face was square and broad, his short beard neatly trimmed, and his narrow eyes held a sharp glint. The corners of his mouth turned downward in a naturally stern expression.
He came to a stop in the center of the hall, and four armored guards filed in behind him, positioned on both sides, hands resting on their sword hilts, eyes sharp as eagles. The eunuchs, palace maids, concubines, and physicians in the hall had all long turned pale with terror, huddled into corners, scarcely daring to breathe.
As for the officials present—they all bowed their heads, trying to make themselves invisible.
In their view, this was the royal family's private affair. As outside ministers, it was not their place to intervene.
Yue Fuguang: Just say you're afraid of dying! Who was it that said there are no private matters for the royal family?!
Prince Cheng's gaze swept over everyone in the hall. He was satisfied with the responses.
A faint smile tugged at his lips. His eyes finally came to rest on the dragon bed. He slightly raised his clasped hands in a perfunctory gesture and spoke in a flat tone, "Nephew, long time no see. Your uncle was worried about you. How's your health? You look worse than when I left?"
His words were concerned, but the smile at the corners of his mouth could not be contained.
On the dragon bed, Emperor Gan Sheng lay weakly within the bright yellow brocade blankets, his face as pale as the potted ice plant in the corner of the hall.
His cheekbones jutted out sharply, his eyes sunken into dark sockets. Only when his eyes moved did one realize that his wasted body still held a flicker of life.
He was all of twenty-eight years old, yet he looked like a man at death's door.
At this moment, he was too weak even to sit up, forced to watch helplessly as Prince Cheng barged into his bedchamber and hurled insults at him.
Gan Sheng felt an emperor being mocked by a subject—an overwhelming wave of fury and humiliation enveloped him, further weakening his already failing body.
Brought up under the loving favor of the late emperor, Gan Sheng had never known such humiliation. But reality was what it was. As much as he raged, all he could do was glare with venomous eyes at the Prince Cheng who approached step by step.