Imperial Court of Yunshan Jade Palace. (03:30 a.m.)
The Emperor sat on the high dragon throne, his figure cloaked in black and gold.
One arm rested along the carved armrest, the other propped his forehead with an air of careless languor. Yet even in that idle pose, the cold weight of his presence smothered the vast hall, like frost wrapped in silk.
His face was ashen, and beneath his lowered lashes, a faint gold shimmer stirred in his pupils.
Below him stretched the jade-white floor of the vast imperial court.
Moon orchids blossomed along the carved jade pillars. Their silvery petals grazed the ancient runes etched in stone, bathed in the subtle pulse of spiritual energy from the lanterns above.
A lone incense burner at the hall's far end smoldered, wafting out pale sandalwood smoke. Its faint, sterile scent filled the air. The hall was steeped in absolute stillness.
Beyond the court hall, lightning tore the sky and thunder groaned against the roof tiles. The wind howled, and even the air inside the hall grew cold, thick with gloom.
Two rows of officials lined the court, nearly fifty in total, robes of vermillion, indigo, ash grey, green. Tonight, they were silent.
The imperial court had not been called for a midnight session in many years.
A murder had occurred within the palace. The victim was from the imperial family, and the perpetrator was still unknown.
Before the throne, on the white jade floor knelt Xiangge. Blood had darkened his white chest lapels like a frozen camellia, stark against the silk.
The stain was not his own. It had dried there one hour ago, when warm arm had pulled him close and refused to let go.
His head was bowed, strands of hair brushing his lashes, shoulders tense under messy robes. He stayed motionless, like a ghost awaiting judgment.
Behind him, a second figure stood a few respectful steps back. A youth in mint-green robes, a physician from the Ministry of Medicine.
He knelt, pressing his fist to his chest. "This subject swears upon the throne to speak only truth."
Mingxuan's cold gaze shifted towards him. "Rise. Did you examine her body?"
"Replying to Junshang," he said, rising to his feet with a bow. "This subject inspected the wounds on the late Princess Consort's body and discovered several notable signs."
"Proceed," Mingxuan ordered, waving one pale hand before closing his eyes.
"The body bore signs of severe muscular strain at the time of death, suggesting she was not ambushed but fought fiercely. Forgive this subject's bluntness, but the excessive bleeding, torn garments, and internal injuries indicate the consort was raped."
The words fell like ice. Someone breathed sharply.
The young physician swallowed hard.
"This subject further suspects," he said hesitantly, "that the murderer may possess a dual-element spiritual core, one aligned with both water and fire."
The air grew heavy, thick with unspoken dread.
There were only three individuals in the empire of Xuan Huang known to possess rare cores.
The first was Lord Xifeng, the Grand Marshal of Xuan Huang. His core was of fire and earth. But he was stationed thousands of miles away at the Qingluan Mountain Pass.
The second was Prince Xuanji, whose core was of fire and water.
The third was the Emperor himself, bearer of a divine core fused with all five elements.
But it was unlikely for the Emperor to be the murderer. Marshal Luo was far away. The only possibility left was Xiangge.
Xiangge rarely interacted with officials and seldom attended court. Yumeng Palace, his residence, sat atop a remote mountain peak. Seeing him even once a month was rare. His quiet nature remained a mystery.
But one thing was certain: the first piece of evidence pointed directly at Xiangge.
Mingxuan still had not opened his eyes. His face was ghostly, as though every drop of blood had been drained.
Only Xiangge knew the depth of pain Mingxuan was enduring.
From outside, Mingxuan appeared composed. But Xiangge could sense it, the poison tearing Mingxuan apart from within, veins and organs rending in silent agony.
Jinghuo was no ordinary poison.
Xiangge bit his lip, trying to still his trembling fingers. The more he fought it, the stronger the surge of emotion became, a sharp ache rising in his throat.
Why was Mingxuan so stubborn? Why not pause the trial, take anything to ease the poison? Life mattered more than this.
As that thought flared, a chill ran down Xiangge's spine.
No one knew the nature of that poison like him. He had created it. No antidote worked. Every formula failed. Jinghuo was too strong.
There was no antidote...
Clarity struck mercilessly. His heart pounded violently.
So Mingxuan knew.
That was why he refused treatments. That was why he endured it quietly.
The realization struck Xiangge like a knife. He shut his eyes tightly, letting a single tear escape.
Then another.
And another.
Each one slid down his cheek and splashed onto the white jade floor. His hands curled into fists, knuckles white.
His back flared white-hot as he shifted his weight slightly, but the sensation dissolved into nothing. His nails bit into his palms instead.
Though he remained perfectly still, a tempest of fury tore through him, each heartbeat pounding with silent agony for the one who sat on the throne. He hated it.
He hated Mingxuan for enduring.
He hated him for being too proud to ask for help.
A steady voice rose from the throne. "Continue."
The physician spoke cautiously. "Her body carries Jinghuo, a rare venom that blackens the veins. Lord Xuanji created it two years ago. There is no antidote. Mortals die instantly, cultivators suffer as it devours their spiritual core."
Whispers stirred like wind through dry leaves. Someone shifted. Another cleared his throat but said nothing.
A chill swept the room. Nearly every gaze turned to the silent figure kneeling before the throne.
The second piece of evidence hit him as sharply as the first. The stares, burning and accusatory, seared his skin. But his thoughts wandered elsewhere.
They don't know...
None realized the man on the throne was dying too, by the same poison.
Xiangge's lips quivered as he bit his lower lip, not from fear of his own fate.
If Mingxuan did not take treatment within three days, he would lose everything. His cultivation, his strength, his throne. He would never recover.
It was true that he hated Mingxuan. That was personal. But this was the Emperor venerated by millions. To them, Mingxuan was the deity who saved them from famine, war, plague, and misery.
So Mingxuan must not die. He had to live.
A drop of blood left Xiangge's torn lower lip, staining the jade floor red.
"However," the young physician said, "the fatal wound was a clean slit across her throat, made by a dagger. The angle suggests either a thrown weapon or self-infliction. The poison entered from there."
Mingxuan finally opened his eyes. A chilling light flashed as sandalwood smoke curled past his lashes.
"You're dismissed," he said.
The physician bowed and retreated.
"Hanxu," Mingxuan said with no trace of warmth, "proceed with the trial."
A man in red robes trimmed with silver stepped forward, his expression solemn. "Yes, Junshang." Hanxu, Minister of Justice, turned, fixing his gaze on Xiangge.
"Princess Shenya was once your lover, before she married Junshang. Do you admit this?"
Xiangge averted his gaze, lips pressed tight.
Hanxu's face darkened. "Prince Xuanji, please cooperate."
"Yes."
"Her body was found at Yumeng Palace, your residence. Prince Xuanji, how do you explain this?"
Xiangge gave no answer.
"After her marriage to Junshang, discord arose between you and her. Was it jealousy or a personal grudge?"
Still, Xiangge gave no answer.
Hanxu's brows twitched.
The Emperor lifted the hand from his head and sat upright. From the moment he had sat on that throne, he had never once glanced at Xiangge.
With a gloomy face, he picked up a jade teacup and started playing with it in his long pale fingers.
"Officials, what is your judgment on this?"
His tone was calm, almost gentle, yet no one dared to relax.
"Since Zhen's ascension, no imperial member has been murdered unless by Zhen. Weigh your words carefully."
He paused, then added quietly, "Zhen has countless means to unearth a murderer." His smooth words sliced through the hall like frost on silk.
After a pause, an elderly man in pale green and silver stepped forth. Lord Lushen.
"Junshang, half the court opposed Jinghuo when Lord Xuanji first created it. We warned of disaster, yet Junshang ignored us."
Soft murmurs of agreement stirred across the hall.
Mingxuan's gaze snapped to Lushen. Lushen flinched, unease flickering in his eyes.
"Lushen," Mingxuan said, voice icy, fingers still playing with the jade cup. "You envy Xuanji for Jinghuo. But recall how many lives he saved during the Corpse Plague? Even you, Master of Medicine, failed when Zhen entrusted you the task."
No one dared speak.
"As the one responsible, should you not be grateful Xuanji spared you humiliation before the court?"
Lushen's mouth closed at once, subdued by the unrelenting hostility beneath Mingxuan's expressionless face.
It was true. Jinghuo was not merely a poison. It had once been a heavenly medicine. When the Corpse Plague spread two years ago, without Jinghuo's firm suppression, half of Xuan Huang would have died.
Xiangge stayed still. Over six drops of blood stained the jade floor beneath his lowered head. Tears slid down silently.
He no longer knew what to feel, only a numbness pressed upon his chest.
A few officials still remembered Xiangge's heroic deeds.
Yet, true supporters were few. In a court full of circling wolves, the honest knew better than to risk their lives. They wanted to defend him, but the instinct to survive kept them silent.
"Hanxu." Mingxuan raised his voice again. "You mentioned there is another piece of evidence against Xuanji?"
A third evidence? In Xuan Huang, the law was clear: three solid pieces of evidence against one person guaranteed punishment.
Xiangge's fate now seemed all but sealed.
Hanxu bowed deeply. "Junshang, further inspection of the consort's chamber revealed a third piece of evidence. This subject humbly requests that Junshang review it."
Xiangge's chest tightened. Mingxuan waved slowly. A eunuch stepped forward, took the letters from Hanxu, and presented them to him.
"These letters were found in the locked drawer of Consort Shenya's room," Hanxu said. "Lord Xuanji's handwriting is distinctive. No one can replicate it. They show invitations for private meetings and greetings. The ink is fresh, suggesting recent correspondence."
Gasps rippled through the court. A prince secretly corresponding with the Emperor's consort? That was beyond sinful...
Mingxuan set aside his jade cup and unrolled a letter. His eyes flicked across the lines, the corners of his mouth twitching.
Thin, spidery strokes stretched across the sheet, delicate yet unmistakable.
The handwriting could belong to no one but Xiangge.
Mingxuan's fingertips curled as he held the letter. His frosty gaze lifted to Xiangge. "Xuanji, did you write this?"
Xiangge lowered his head to the floor. "The evidence is clear. This criminal is guilty."
Mingxuan lifted the jade cup again, idly turning it in his hand, though his gaze never left Xiangge.
"Zhen will ask you again. Did you write this letter?" His voice deepened, carrying an ominous weight.
Xiangge hesitated, then said quietly, "Junshang knows my handwriting. I deserve punishment."
The air grew colder, pressing down like a living weight. Mingxuan's eyes narrowed dangerously.
"I will ask again. Did you write this letter?"
A tense silence filled the hall before Xiangge finally answered. "No. But in truth, she did secretly visit Yumeng Palace."
Not a whisper stirred.
"She sought me for counsel about a rare heart disease she concealed. For two months I tended to her recovery with my cultivation."
Lushen sneered, his tone sharp with contempt. "Such skill surpasses even the elders of the Ministry. Lord Xuanji, do you mean to deceive Junshang?"
"Mind your words, Lushen." A dangerous voice sliced through the hall, and several heads turned instantly.
It was Yinsang Jun, a young official in dark blue and silver.
He was the Minister of Revenue and youngest member of the Imperial Council, renowned across Yunshan for his icy beauty and fierce temper.
None dared provoke him.
Most importantly, he seldom involved himself in court disputes, so his sudden intervention shocked everyone.
It was clear he sided with Xiangge.
Those who longed to defend the troubled prince but had stayed silent released quiet sighs of relief.
Xiangge's breath caught. He had not spoken to Lord Yinsang in three years. Why would he risk the Emperor's wrath now? He did not know.
Hanxu stepped forward hastily.
"What do you mean, Lord Yinsang? Are you suggesting the consort actually sought his counsel?"
Yinsang's eyes grew darker. "Lord Xuanji may be young, but his cultivation ranks only below Junshang's, definitely far beyond yours."
Hanxu was struck dumb. That was a stinging blow.
Lushen's face contorted in a scowl.
"That does not make him mature. The princess was a treasured consort, not a plaything. This is clearly plotting! The evidence is overwhelming. You–"
His words broke off beneath Yinsang's icy stare.
"Lushen," Yinsang spoke softly, yet venom edged every word. "Prince Xuanji was trained personally by Junshang from childhood. How dare you call him scheming?"
He lifted his chin, narrowing his gaze.
"Are you suggesting Junshang failed to train him? Or worse, that Junshang himself is behind this plot?"
Yinsang's composed yet audacious words struck Lushen like thunder.
Lushen's face turned white as death. Kneeling in humiliation, he lowered his head to the Emperor. "Junshang! Lord Yinsang is slandering me!"
Yinsang smirked, unfazed. "Remember your place, Lushen. Lord Xuanji is the late Emperor's only son, the last of the Hua dynasty. Heir to the Silver Throne. Not someone you may slander at will."
It was the absolute truth.
Xiangge alone remained the rightful heir to the Silver Throne.
Thirteen years ago, Xuan Huang was ruled by the Twin Thrones: the Jade Throne of the Xie clan and the Silver Throne of the Hua clan.
When Xiangge was four, the Xie clan's Second Prince, Mingxuan, seized power by force and ascended the Jade Throne.
His coronation was painted in blood. Mingxuan slaughtered the Hua clan, and even killed his own parents and elder brother.
Only the child Hua Xiangge survived.
Soon after, Mingxuan abolished the Silver Throne, uniting the empire under the Jade Throne.
Xiangge, the last scion of the Hua dynasty, was left without crown or inheritance. Fifteen years had passed. Time had carved him into a sharpened blade, refined, fierce, and impossible to ignore.
Yet still, not all were willing to acknowledge him.
Hanxu sneered. "Then perhaps, Lord Yinsang, you can explain why Lord Xuanji fled." He did not wait for an answer. He turned to the Emperor.
"There is only one way to uncover the truth. Lord Xuanji is known for restraint and upright conduct. He avoids brothels and indulgence. He is unmarried and said to be pure."
Xiangge's face drained of color.
Hanxu went on, "Moonstones are the purest of gems. Blood tainted by lost virginity will cause the stone to crack at once. Bring one here."
Mingxuan's face grew paler, unreadable emotions storming in his cold eyes as they suddenly fixed on Xiangge. For a heartbeat, something flickered there.
A stone was set before them, gleaming white beneath the spirit lanterns.
Blood was drawn from Xiangge's fingertip. At that moment, he lifted his face to look at Mingxuan one last time.
That innocence. Helplessness. Hatred. Vulnerability.
Mingxuan's grip on the jade cup tightened until his knuckles turned white.
As the blood touched the stone, threading in thin veins against the moonstone, a sharp crack shattered the silence.
A collective gasp echoed through the hall.
Hanxu smirked. "Lord Xuanji, will you finally confess your crimes?"
Xiangge's eyes stayed locked on Mingxuan. Once bright, they now seemed dim, yet he forced a bitter smile through his tears, speaking as though taking revenge.
"Then I ask Junshang to issue an edict to sentence me to death."
With a violent bang, the Emperor flung the jade cup. It shattered across the jade steps.
The court erupted in chaos. Everyone fell to their knees, heads bowed, voices pleading.
"Junshang! Please, restrain yourself!"
Mingxuan rose from the throne. A dangerous glimmer flickered in his eyes as he descended the jade steps toward Hanxu.
His presence seemed to drain the last remnant of warmth. The officials stiffened.
Thunder clapped outside the hall.
Mingxuan came forward and supported Hanxu to his feet. Hanxu's head swam, unsure if it was the Emperor's oppressive aura or his own frailty that made him dizzy.
The arms gripping his shoulders were impossibly strong. A faint crack echoed from his bones. Pain seized him, but he did not dare to look up.
Mingxuan's lips curved into a smile that cut deeper than steel. The court fell into suffocating silence.
"My good Lord Hanxu, what if Zhen said this murder was not Xuanji's doing?"
Though his tone was gentle, the venom beneath each word was impossible to miss.
Xiangge, who remained calm throughout the trial, suddenly started trembling. His heart slammed violently against his ribs. He wiped his tears with the back of his hand.
He could not name the feeling. It struck like thunder, yet held a strange comfort, like rain after a long drought.
Hanxu faltered, his words splitting. "This... Jun... Junshang..." Sweat poured down his face.
Mingxuan moved to the center of the hall, his hands clasped behind him. His long sleeves brushed the jade floor.
"Three pieces of evidence against one." He spoke steadily. "Two are mere guesses, and the last may be false. None serve as true proof."
No one dared respond. All knelt in quiet submission.
Mingxuan let out a cold sneer. "Yet as your Emperor, is it not Zhen's role to settle your doubts?"
The air itself seemed to freeze.
Mingxuan moved toward Lushen, his smile still terrifying. "What do you say, Lushen? Do you dare doubt Zhen's judgement?"
Lushen trembled, feeling dizzy. His whole body felt numb beneath the Emperor's pressure.
It seemed Mingxuan's stare stripped him of every pretense, exposing his innermost thoughts.
A sharp ache shot from the base of his skull. Sweat ran down his temples as he struggled to speak.
"The truth cannot be known unless... the deceased princess comes herself, Junshang–"
"Oh." Mingxuan smiled, cold as ice. "Then let her come."
A chill raced down Lushen's spine, goosebumps swarming across his skin.
Even breathing felt forbidden. Even with the doors shut, a freezing gust swept through, and the covered lanterns shuddered.
Spiritual energy...
Xiangge's breath caught as that wave of spiritual force rippled past him, sinking into his bones. He recognized the pulse. It was Mingxuan's divine core, vast, fierce and unrestrained.
A flash split the sky outside. Thunder crashed.
Glossary
• Yumeng Palace (玉梦宫): Palace of Jade Dreams. The official residence of Xiangge, situated stop a remote peak, away from the main palace.
• Yinsang Jun (银桑君): Title bestowed by the Emperor upon Li Yuancheng, the Minister of Revenue.
• Hanxu Jun (寒虚君): Title bestowed by the Emperor upon Li Fengshan, the Minister of Justice.
• Lushen Jun (陆沈君): Title bestowed by the Emperor upon Lu Menghua, the Minister of Medicine.
• Xuanji Jun (玄玑君): Title bestowed by the Emperor upon Hua Xiangge, the Fourth Prince.
• Xifeng Jun (西风君): Title bestowed by the Emperor upon Luo Jianfeng, the Grand Martial of Xuan Huang. The leader of the eight generals of the empire.
• Consort Shenya (沈娅): One of the three princesses at Yunshan, one of the seven beauties of Xuan Huang, and one of the three wives of Emperor Mingxuan.
• Xuan Huang (玄煌): The empire under the reign of Emperor Mingxuan.
• Junshang (君上): Emperor, Your Majesty.