This means…
Yan Yihuan, immersed in the embrace, suddenly jolted. His eyes flew open, dazed, and both hands pressed against Li Xuanming’s chest, about to push him away, but the arms around him only tightened.
He was held tightly against that chest, so close he could even hear the emperor’s heartbeat clearly. It was, unlike his own frantic pounding, strong yet steady.
If the Residence of King Yan truly rebelled, then the emperor meant to protect him and help him survive this disaster.
Yan Yihuan had always felt his mind was slower than others. The emperor’s words had not been entirely explicit, yet he understood in an instant.
“No… they wouldn’t… they wouldn’t…”
Yan Yihuan argued weakly, but his words were so pale that even he could not continue.
What right did he have to say they wouldn’t? That day beneath the window, he had heard every word between his elder brother and Li Xuanjing clearly. There was no possibility of misunderstanding.
The Yan family was destined to betray the emperor. Even if he alone were spared, what then? Would the Emperor still allow him to freely curry favor and speak openly with him?
If it truly came to that, the emperor would regard him as the son of a traitor, while he would regard the emperor as the enemy who destroyed his family.
Then what would be the point of keeping him alive alone? To make them mutually loathe each other?
Just thinking of it made Yan Yihuan struggle to breathe, his head buzzing as if it might split open.
“Chaotic” was an understatement to describe his current state of mind. Something in his heart was on the verge of breaking free, yet it couldn’t find its way out. Yan Yihuan’s hands, pressed against Li Xuanming’s chest, suddenly clenched tight. He gasped sharply, but it did nothing to ease the pain in his heart. Wave after wave, it felt like it was about to burst.
“Yihuan?”
Li Xuanming instantly sensed something was wrong. He hurriedly released his arms, never expecting Yan Yihuan to go limp at once with his eyes vacant and one hand clutching his chest desperately. His face had turned deathly pale, sweat already sliding down from his temples.
“Shen Zhaoquan!”
The rare shout startled Shen Zhaoquan, who had been standing guard outside, into a cold sweat. But when he pushed the door open, what he saw was Yan Yihuan kneeling weakly on one knee, eyes shut, supported by Li Xuanming, while the emperor had forced his own wrist into Yan Yihuan’s mouth to keep him from biting himself, “Get Sun Zhicheng here!”
“Yes!” Seeing the scene, Shen Zhaoquan was panic-stricken as well, stumbling as he turned to run out.
“Wait!” Li Xuanming clenched his teeth, his voice trembling uncontrollably. “Call Daoist Zhengyang too!”
Time, which usually seemed to pass in an instant, dragged unbearably slow today. Until the sunlight pouring through the window shifted from west to east, from brilliant radiance into the glow of sunset, the bedchamber remained utterly silent, so oppressive it was almost hard to breathe.
At last, Sun Zhicheng lightly twisted his fingertips and withdrew the final needle, then let out a soft breath. Yan Yihuan was still unconscious, but his brows had eased, and he no longer seemed to be in such agony.
“Your Majesty, I cannot determine the source of his illness. I can only relieve some of his suffering for now.”
Li Xuanming’s brows had not relaxed once. He nodded and dismissed Sun Zhicheng, but when he looked up again, he saw a trace of worry in Zhengyangzi’s eyes, and his heart jolted.
“Why does the Daoist seem so troubled? Could it be…?”
“Your Majesty, Third Young Master’s condition is indeed somewhat unusual this time, but for now there should be no grave danger.”
Zhengyangzi’s words eased some of the weight hanging over Li Xuanming’s heart, but there was an underlying meaning: it was only for the moment, not that all was well.
“This pain in his chest is not new, and it is worsening. Daoist, find a way to resolve this as soon as possible.”
“I have sensed that Third Young Master’s soul is extremely restless, as though something is trying to break free of its restraints, but whether it bodes well or ill, I cannot tell.
“So in my view, I fear we must recover that missing soul fragment as soon as possible.”
Back then, Han Zhen had not been imprisoned in the Court of Judicial Review, yet he had not remained in the palace either. Li Xuanming had sent him to search for the imperial mausoleum’s location, yet how could the legendary mausoleum be found so easily? After several attempts, he returned empty-handed each time.
Later, as the situation grew tense and the matter was not urgent for the moment, Li Xuanming temporarily halted the search. He had never expected that Yan Yihuan could not wait any longer.
“But how are we to find it?” Li Xuanming’s voice grew hoarse. “Even the Daoist does not know where the imperial mausoleum is. Where is Zhen supposed to search?”
“It is not without a solution,” Zhengyangzi said. “Although the scroll recording the mausoleum’s location has been lost, my Qingxiao Temple has never stopped searching throughout the generations. It was during this process that my junior brother Yuzhen discovered that Third Young Master is the reincarnation of Ye Shiyu, the former dynasty’s palace attendant.
“The day before yesterday, Yuzhen sent word that the search for the imperial mausoleum had finally shown some progress. I thought, then, this must be fate at work. For something that had seen no progress for hundreds of years to reveal itself just after Your Majesty and Third Young Master met…”
Li Xuanming’s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment he forgot to breathe, “Daoist, you mean it has been found?!”
“Yes, and no,” Zhengyangzi said. “Yuzhen wrote that after Emperor Li Xuanwen and Attendant Ye passed away, one of Ye’s trusted followers volunteered to guard the mausoleum. Records later say this man adopted a child, and from then on that family has guarded the imperial mausoleum generation after generation. If we find them, we will know where the mausoleum truly is.”
“Who is it?” Li Xuanming stepped forward half a pace in urgency. “Does Daoist Yuzhen know?”
“That trusted follower was once a death warrior, known only by a given name and no surname. After becoming the mausoleum’s guardian, he adopted the surname Duan. Based on historical records, I believe this man was named Duan Qingchuan. And it is now known that the current guardian of this generation is called Duan Chengfeng, in the south.”
“So as long as we find this Duan Chengfeng, we can recover that missing soul fragment, is that right?!”
Zhengyangzi had made it clear enough. Li Xuanming turned to look at the still sleeping face and knew this could wait no longer.
—
Han Zhen, who always carried out imperial orders without hesitation, showed rare reluctance this time. After considering it, he raised his head.
“Your Majesty, things are unsettled right now. If I leave at this moment, I fear…”
“Yesterday Sun Zhicheng and Zhengyangzi were urgently summoned into the palace. Zhen has deliberately let word of it leak beyond the palace walls. There will soon be unrest outside again.” A dark glint shifted in Li Xuanming’s deep-set eyes.
“This may not be a bad thing. If Qin, Wei, and the others with restless ambitions had only been speculating before, now they will surely believe that even if Zhen were not dead, Zhen would still surely be gravely ill. Otherwise Zhen would not have summoned even Zhengyangzi into the palace.
“So besides you, Zhen will send several other groups in different directions. Officially they will be seeking miraculous medicines, but in truth only you will know the real purpose.”
Han Zhen’s doubts vanished instantly. This plan would lure the snake from its hole. Once those seeking medicine set out, anyone spying in secret or trying to obstruct them would reveal themselves as ill-intentioned.
It seemed the emperor had truly resolved to purge his enemies this time. But before departing, Han Zhen still had one matter weighing on his mind. After leaving the palace, he did not return home to prepare but went straight to the Ming residence.
Ming Zhang quietly looked at the newcomer, his eyes seemingly covered in frost. Yet even in such bitter winter cold, Han Zhen’s gaze did not waver in the slightest. Within the flicker of his eyes was a trace of burning warmth even he himself had not noticed.
