Chapter 38: The Crippled Young Lady (Thirty-Eight)

Chapter 38: The Crippled Lady (Part 38)

Ever since that day, Feng Qingqing had forced Su Kui to reside within the palace, under the pretext of fearing that she might do something desperate.

Every day, Feng Qingqing would come to make her presence felt, offering a charade of hypocritical comfort. Then, she would depart triumphantly, leaving Su Kui with an expression as if she had swallowed a fly.

To this, Su Kui really wanted to say: Seeing you every day makes me want to do something desperate even more!

Perhaps because Jun Mo’s body had never been found, Emperor Yuan Chen remained cautious and took no rash action. There was no helping it; Jun Mo was a man of such treacherous nature that no one could rest easy without seeing the corpse with their own eyes. If they dared to think of the worst-case scenario, if Su Kui were harmed, there was no guarantee that Jun Mo wasn't alive. Should he return in a fit of rage, his initial seventy-percent inclination to usurp the throne would surely escalate to a full hundred.

Emperor Yuan Chen dared not take the risk. Therefore, not only could he do nothing to Su Kui, but he had to treat her with the finest food and care.

As the days passed, the frequency of Feng Qingqing’s visits gradually dwindled, and the atmosphere within the imperial palace grew increasingly stifling. From the Emperor down to the concubines, perhaps Su Kui was the only one left who could still manage a smile.

With Jun Mo’s body still unfound, Su Kui mentally calculated the time. Traveling from Yanmen Pass to the capital, even without rest, would take roughly three days. Now, more than seven days had passed.

It probably wouldn't be long before she saw him, would it?

At the thought, Su Kui couldn't help but rub her burning earlobes, silently cursing herself for being so spineless.

June 19th, the eleventh year of the Great Yuan.

This day would become a particularly heavy stroke in the history of the Great Yuan: the day the Regent, Jun Mo, usurped the throne.

The Regent, Jun Mo, was known for his concern for the world and his advocacy for the people. Stories had begun to circulate among the common folk that no sooner had he departed for the front lines than his beloved Princess Consort was forcibly detained in the palace by the Emperor. Countless citizens imagined the kinds of torments the Princess Consort must be suffering, and it was no wonder the Regent felt his heart turn cold and rose in rebellion to seize the throne.

The sprawling capital, specifically the alleys near the imperial palace, was completely deserted. Anyone innocent and unrelated to the power struggle had been quietly evacuated.

Jun Mo, clad in pitch-black battle armor and reeking of a fierce, bloodthirsty aura, sat atop a warhorse whose fur was matted red with blood. His eyes were dark and malevolent, the veins on his hand gripping the longsword bulging. He showed no trace of fear toward the forest of arrows aimed at him from atop the city walls.

Emperor Yuan Chen stood behind a line of shields, his gaze vicious and cold as he stared directly into the face of the murderous man before him, his fists clenched tight. Struggling to suppress the sense of helplessness in his heart, he spoke in a cold, resonant, and forceful tone: "You rebellious traitors deserve no mercy. If you lay down your weapons now, perhaps I might spare your miserable lives. If you remain obsessed and delusional, do not blame me for my cruelty!"

Jun Mo laughed, a display of unbridled, wicked arrogance. His black cloak billowed without a breeze, its blood-stained hem fluttering in the chilling wind.

Rain began to fall in sparse droplets. Jun Mo narrowed his phoenix eyes and gazed at the sky, whispering something no one could hear: "Wait for me..."

He turned his head, his gaze piercing accurately through the layers of shields to meet Yuan Chen’s slightly evasive eyes. "Enough nonsense. If you want war, then let there be war!"

He raised his sword high and brought it down with a heavy thud. "Kill!"

"Kill! Kill! Kill!"

Countless elite soldiers behind him roared in unison, raising their spears high, their momentum unstoppable.

The outcome was as expected. Yuan Chen had not anticipated losing so quickly. Traitors had emerged within the Imperial Guards, most of whom had long since been swayed to serve Jun Mo. Caught in a pincer attack from front and rear, there was nowhere left to retreat. His only bargaining chip had also vanished in the chaos.

Yuan Chen collapsed onto the dragon throne, appearing to have aged ten years in an instant. Suddenly, he let out a frantic, hollow laugh. "Hahahaha... As expected of my good uncle. What a scheme, what a brilliant scheme! I must admit, I am no match for you!"

Jun Mo turned to leave, not sparing Yuan Chen a second glance. His indifferent words echoed for a long time throughout the Golden Throne Hall: "Your Majesty, do not forget—your art of kingship is something I taught you."