latelenovela Chapter 513
Chapter 513
Before the morning mist had fully dissipated, Ye Jiuchen's black horse had already galloped into the Vermilion Bird Gate, its hooves treading on the dewdrops that resembled shattered jade. The bronze bells on the saddle and bridle jingled in the wind, startling the white doves perched on the eaves. As he dismounted, the hem of his dark robe swept across the white marble steps, stirring up a few locust leaves glistening with morning dew.
The scent of sandalwood mingled with the aroma of ink wafted from the imperial study. The emperor was bent over, reviewing the battle report spread across his desk, his vermilion annotations staining the Xuan paper with layers of blood. Hearing footsteps, he abruptly looked up, his gaze behind his gold-rimmed glasses sharp as a hawk's: "How is Tiger Wolf Valley?"
Ye Jiuchen knelt on one knee and unfurled the mud-stained cloth scroll: "Your Majesty, although Lu Mufeng's former troops number three thousand cavalry, their morale is low." He paused, his fingertips tracing the camp layout drawn on the scroll, "During my reconnaissance, I was ambushed by a master wielding the 'Swallow Returns to the Clouds' technique."
The jade paperweight on the dragon desk suddenly made a crisp clinking sound. The emperor stood up abruptly, his python robe sweeping away the memorials on the desk: "Zhao Chengye, the chief instructor of the Imperial Guard, has been missing for seven days. His 'Swallow Returns to the Clouds'..." His voice trailed off abruptly, and a muffled thunderclap suddenly came from outside the hall, making the window frames vibrate.
Ye Jiuchen gazed at the emperor's suddenly pale face, recalling the unfinished words of the one-eyed soldier in Tiger Wolf Valley. The candlelight on the table flickered violently, casting distorted shadows on the wall: "Your Majesty, that man in black knows the Imperial Guard's deployment and even monitors your daily life; I fear the palace..."
"Enough!" The emperor interrupted, his dragon-patterned boots slamming heavily on the blue bricks. "Investigate this matter thoroughly immediately, and uproot the traitor!" He turned to look at the churning dark clouds outside the window, his voice low and iron-like. "Zhao Chengye has served me for twenty years. If he has truly betrayed me..."
As Ye Jiuchen received his order and left the imperial study, dusk had already crept over the palace walls. He had just stepped onto the bluestone path when a pale blue figure stumbled towards him. It was Xiao Tao, Li Yanran's personal maid, her hair disheveled, a scratch on her forehead, and the letter she clutched was wrinkled with sweat: "Lord Ye! The young lady says this letter is extremely urgent..."
The moment Ye Jiuchen unfolded the letter, his pupils contracted sharply. On the pristine white Xuan paper was the familiar delicate calligraphy of Li Yanran, but the handwriting trembled considerably more than usual: "Last night, someone broke into my courtyard, leaving behind half a dragon-patterned jade pendant. That jade pendant is the same one His Majesty bestowed upon Zhao Chengye years ago..." The ink had smudged here, clearly indicating the writing had been shaky, "In a hidden compartment of Commander Zhao's study, there is a copy of the secret edict you reviewed years ago..."
The sound of a night watchman's clapper echoed from the palace wall, startling Ye Jiuchen back to his senses. A corner of the letter in his hand was lifted by the night wind, revealing a half-lotus flower drawn in vermilion on the back—the secret code they had agreed upon in their youth. In the distance, the bell and drum towers chimed their time. He gazed southwest at Li Yanran's residence, where the dim light seemed particularly fragile against the backdrop of dark clouds.
As he tucked the letter into his robes, Ye Jiuchen felt for the half-bronze whistle he kept close to his body. The words of the one-eyed soldier in Tiger Wolf Valley still echoed in his ears: "That man in black even remembered His Majesty's birthday..." He gripped the silver needle at his waist, turned to look at the majestic Qianqing Palace, the auspicious beasts on its ridge gleaming coldly in the twilight. This game of chess, which began with poisoning and ended in rebellion, was probably far more intricate and complex than imagined.
The palace walls and eaves outlined a menacing silhouette in the night. Ye Jiuchen lightly touched the glazed tiles with his toes, his dark robes fluttering in the strong wind. The letter from Li Yanran in his arms was crumpled, the vermilion lotus petals resembling congealed bloodstains in the moonlight. As he swept through the imperial garden, the startled owls let out a mournful cry, as if foreshadowing the bloodshed ahead.
After turning through the winding corridor, Li Yanran's courtyard was now in sight. Ye Jiuchen's pupils contracted slightly—the bamboo blinds on the window lattice were half-rolled up, and the candlelight inside flickered, yet a deathly silence permeated the room. He held his breath and slowly approached along the corner of the wall. When his fingertips touched the door, the icy touch made his heart tighten.
"Creak—" The carved wooden door was pushed open, and a stench of blood rushed out. The celadon vase on the table was shattered into pieces, and moonlight shone through the torn window paper, casting dappled shadows on the messy floor. Li Yanran was huddled behind the rosewood screen, her moon-white nightgown covered in dust, the jade hairpin in her hair missing, her eyes filled with panic and fear.
"Yanran!" Ye Jiuchen strode forward, his black iron folding fan gently parting the disheveled gauze curtains. He crouched down, reaching out to touch her trembling shoulder, but stopped mid-air—there was a purplish-blue pinch mark on Li Yanran's neck.
“Hidden compartment…secret decree…” Li Yanran’s voice was barely audible, her trembling finger pointing to the antique shelf in the corner. Ye Jiuchen turned around and lifted the brocade screen on the shelf. The copper lock on the hidden compartment had been pried open, and it was empty. Just as he was about to examine it closely, he suddenly heard a soft clatter of tiles, and a dark shadow swept across the eaves.
"Hide well!" Ye Jiuchen shielded Li Yanran behind him, the silver needle already sliding into his fingers. Under the moonlight, a familiar silhouette was projected onto the window paper—the person stood with his hands behind his back, his posture as upright as a pine tree, which was the usual stance of Zhao Chengye, the chief instructor of the Imperial Guard.
"Zhao Chengye!" Ye Jiuchen shouted, and a silver needle shot out. The dark figure dodged to the side, drawing a soft sword from his sleeve. The cold light clashed with the silver needle, sparks flying. The two fought fiercely in the cramped room, the sword wind sweeping across the calligraphy and paintings, leaving long trails of blood on the wall.
Zhao Chengye's moves grew increasingly ruthless, each sword strike aimed directly at a vital point. Ye Jiuchen fought and retreated, catching a glimpse of Li Yanran's pale face out of the corner of his eye. Suddenly, Zhao Chengye feinted an attack, his sword flashing like lightning towards Li Yanran's throat! In the nick of time, Ye Jiuchen flicked his soft whip from his waist to wrap around the sword, while his other hand wielded a silver needle like a shooting star, precisely piercing the opponent's "Quchi" acupoint.
Zhao Chengye trembled, and his soft sword clattered to the ground. Ye Jiuchen was about to step forward to interrogate him when he saw black blood trickling from the corner of Zhao Chengye's mouth. "You!" Ye Jiuchen reached out to check his pulse, but only felt a cold touch. Zhao Chengye's eyes gradually became unfocused, and a strange smile appeared on his lips.
Outside the window, dark clouds obscured the moon, plunging the courtyard into darkness. Ye Jiuchen stared at Zhao Chengye's corpse, recalling the missing dragon-patterned jade pendant at his waist. The secret edict copy vanished from the hidden compartment, the royal secrets held by the man in black—the intricacies of this scheme far exceeded his expectations. He bent down to pick up the soft sword Zhao Chengye had dropped; the dragon pattern on its blade gleamed eerily in the darkness—this conspiracy was likely one that even the emperor might not have been immune to.
“Jiuchen…” Li Yanran’s weak call interrupted his thoughts. Ye Jiuchen turned around and helped her up, noticing that she was still clutching half a piece of broken jade in her palm. By the dim moonlight, he could see the character “Cheng” engraved on the jade—the last character of Zhao Chengye’s name.
Outside the palace walls, the drums beat deep and resonant. Ye Jiuchen settled Li Yanran in, then gripped the broken jade and soft sword tightly. This conspiracy, which began with poisoning, had finally revealed only the tip of the iceberg. But he knew the real battle had only just begun.