northernbook Chapter 511
Chapter 511
A heavy stench of blood filled the warm chambers of the Prince's mansion, mingling with the incense of mugwort and swirling among the carved beams. Oriental Pearl's scream pierced the silk curtains, startling the copper bells under the eaves into a jumbled tinkling. Her fingernails dug deep into the sandalwood bedposts, the carved patterns studded with beads of blood, and the brocade quilt beneath her was already soaked in dark red, like a field of blooming datura.
The old doctor's white beard trembled with his shaking hands, beads of sweat falling into the medicine bowl, making even the silver needles quiver. He changed three prescriptions in succession, filling the room with pungent medicinal smoke, but all he received in return was Dongfang Mingzhu's increasingly weak moans. "Your Highness! The pregnancy has reversed, this old minister..." Before he could finish speaking, Ye Jingchu suddenly kicked over the medicine pot at his feet, the scalding liquid splashing onto the blue bricks, sending up a pungent white steam.
"Useless! All of you are useless!" His black brocade robe was stained with blood. He ripped open the gilded buttons on his lapel, revealing a hideous old scar. His eyes, which had once terrified the enemy on the battlefield, were now bloodshot. "Go! Prepare the horses immediately! Bring that man from Xinzhou here tonight! If you can't protect this child, you will all be buried with him!" His roar shook the lanterns under the eaves. The guards standing outside the door turned pale and stumbled into the rain.
Meanwhile, an eerie silence enveloped the imperial palace in the capital. The bright yellow curtains of the emperor's bedchamber hung low, and the imperial physicians kneeling before his throne dared not utter a sound. Amidst the soft clinking of medicine bowls, intermittent coughs could be heard, and the sweet, metallic scent of blood splattered onto the bright yellow dragon-patterned pillow. Outside the court, moss seeped from the cracks in the blue bricks of the Censorate, and the whispers among the ministers concealed the chilling glint of blades about to be drawn.
Ye Jiuchen's black horse galloped into the palace through the morning mist, the black iron token clanging coldly at his waist. The copper nails before the palace gates were stained with undried blood. As he dismounted, he saw several eunuchs hurriedly carrying a body wrapped in white cloth past. "Ninth Prince, His Majesty summons you for an immediate audience," the Grand Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial Affairs announced, his voice shrill like an owl's, a blood-stained secret report peeking from his sleeve. The muffled sounds of bells and drums echoed from the depths of the palace, making his boots tremble—this was no mere summons, but a carefully woven web of power.
In the shadows of the west courtyard of the Prince's mansion, Li Yanran leaned against a mottled vermilion pillar, a small glass bottle spinning between her fingers. The pale pink powder inside rippled with the movement, making the smile in her eyes appear even colder. "Sister Mingzhu, if this pregnancy ends..." she said, gently scraping the bottle's rim with her jade nail guard, making a soft sound, "Brother Jingchu probably won't even bother to look at you." A scream from Dongfang Mingzhu echoed from afar, startling the crows perched on the eaves. She looked up at the dark clouds, her laughter trembling.
Beneath the old locust tree in the Lu family manor, Lu Mufeng gazed in the direction Ye Jiuchen had vanished, his aged hand stroking the faded tiger tally at his waist. The fierce battle of twenty years ago seemed to replay before his eyes—the clashing of swords, the carnage, the bloodshed. "Father, I'm afraid Ye Jiuchen can't be trusted," Lu Yanchen said, gripping his sword tightly, the tassel fluttering in the wind. Lu Qingmo wiped away tears, but the old man raised his hand to stop her.
“This world is a grand chessboard.” Lu Mufeng gazed at the churning dark clouds on the horizon and sighed deeply. “The Ye brothers are fighting, and the Lu family… it’s time to make our move.” The wind swirled withered leaves past his graying temples, and the faint sound of war drums drifted from afar, startling the dogs in the village into a chorus of barks. The old general gripped his bronze cane tightly, the pixiu head at the top gleaming coldly in the twilight—an object bestowed upon him by the late emperor, now finally about to see the light of day again.
The candle wax from the gilded dragon-patterned candlesticks dripped down, forming dark red beads on the bright yellow dragon-patterned floor tiles. As Ye Jiuchen crossed the threshold of the bedchamber, the black iron token struck the bronze door studs with a clear sound, startling the young eunuch on duty in the corridor. A heavy scent of medicine mixed with the stench of blood wafted over, and the twelve bright yellow curtains hanging low before the dragon bed faintly emitted suppressed coughs, like the gasps of a dying man.
"Jiuchen..." The emperor leaned against the gold-embroidered cushions, his pale fingers gripping the dragon-patterned headboard tightly, his knuckles turning bluish-gray. His once majestic crown tilted to one side, revealing newly grown white hairs at his temples. "The situation is critical now, what good plan do you have?" As he forced himself to sit up, his dragon robe embroidered with the twelve symbols slipped off his shoulder, revealing his bony collarbone, making him look like a puppet whose bones had been removed.
Ye Jiuchen knelt on one knee, his black arrow sleeve sweeping across the cold floor tiles. He gazed at his emaciated brother on the dragon bed, recalling the secret report he had received three days prior at the border—the Northern Frontier cavalry had made unusual movements, and half the court officials were secretly colluding with foreign enemies. "Your Majesty, the most urgent task is to stabilize the court and thoroughly investigate the traitors," his voice low and firm. "At the same time, recall the Zhenbei Army to strengthen the defenses of the capital, in case of unforeseen circumstances." Before he finished speaking, the emperor suddenly coughed violently, crimson blood splattering onto the plain white brocade quilt, spreading out grotesque patterns on the bright yellow background.
"Summon the imperial physician! Quickly, summon the imperial physician!" Chaos erupted in the imperial bedchamber as palace maids stumbled in, carrying golden basins. Ye Jiuchen was about to rise when the Grand Eunuch Wang, the head of the Directorate of Ceremonial, rushed in, his hunched back bent even lower, and whispered a few words in the emperor's ear. In an instant, a chilling glint flashed in the emperor's eyes, and he abruptly overturned the medicine bowl beside him: "How dare Ye Jingchu do this!"
Shards of shattered blue-and-white porcelain landed on Ye Jiuchen's boots. Looking at his brother's contorted face, he already knew what had happened. Sure enough, the eunuch's shrill voice trembled as he reported: "Your Majesty, an urgent report from the Prince's residence: Consort Dongfang's pregnancy is unstable, and Prince Jingchu... has privately mobilized troops from three camps outside the capital!"
Ye Jiuchen's pupils suddenly contracted. He recalled the standoff at the Lu family manor last night; the pale face of Dongfang Wan'er and the shrill screams of Ye Mingzhu overlapped in his mind. The three battalions on the outskirts of the capital were the elite guards protecting the imperial city, and their transfer was tantamount to tearing a bloody hole in the city's defenses. Even more critically, this violation of regulations, at this sensitive moment, could become a fatal handle for political enemies to use against him.