8: Chapter 8 Before dawn, see you at Xuanwu Gate!

The candle flame in the secret room flickered as the wind blew. After the others dispersed, only Crown Prince Zhu Yuntong and General Lan Yu remained in the room.

General Lan Yu looked at the empty chairs, feeling as though he were dreaming. In just a short while, the top military generals of the Great Ming Dynasty had been cajoled and intimidated by his fifteen-year-old grand-nephew into boarding a pirate ship that could capsize at any moment.

"Your Highness, are they... truly reliable?" General Lan Yu's voice carried a hint of instability he hadn't even noticed himself. Especially that Duke of Cao; he usually looked like a useless vase, but tonight he had suddenly become so "reliable," which only made him feel more uneasy.

"Whether they are reliable or not, we will know by dawn." Crown Prince Zhu Yuntong sat back down and poured himself a cup of tea that had already gone cold. "Now, they are the same as us; they have no choice."

He picked up the teacup, watching the tea stalks floating in it, his eyes deep and unfathomable.

"Great-Uncle, you should go prepare as well. The eight hundred brothers are all your trusted men; you know better than I do how to use them. Meet at Xuanwu Gate at three quarters past the Hour of the Ox."

General Lan Yu looked at the young man's calm face, opened his mouth, but ultimately swallowed all his worries. He nodded heavily, turned, and left, his footsteps heavy and resolute.

Meanwhile, at the Mansion of the Duke of Cao.

As soon as the Duke of Cao returned home, he locked himself in his study; none of the coquettish maids who usually hovered around dared to approach.

He no longer had the bravado he displayed at General Lan Yu's residence. He paced back and forth in the room anxiously, his forehead covered in cold sweat.

"Damn! Damn! Damn!" He cursed under his breath. "Duke of Cao, oh Duke of Cao, are you out of your damn mind? You dare to get involved in this kind of business? And you even took on the biggest task?"

He plopped down onto the armchair, picked up his teacup to take a sip, but his hand shook so violently that he spilled tea all over himself.

"It's over, it's over, it's really over this time." He muttered to himself, "If that brat Zhang San refuses to honor the agreement or turns against us at the last minute, wouldn't I be the first one to be beheaded?"

The more he thought, the more afraid he became, even considering packing up his gold and valuables to flee in the night. But Crown Prince Zhu Yuntong's calm yet trust-filled gaze appeared in his mind once again.

That phrase, "Then I'll leave it to you, cousin," and that heavy pat on the shoulder.

The Duke of Cao slammed his fist onto the table.

"Damn it!" He growled, his eyes red. "I've been treated as a good-for-nothing for over twenty years. Now that someone has finally trusted me for once, if I chicken out, am I still a man?"

"It's just opening a door, right? I'll make sure it gets opened tonight!"

Seeming to have made up his mind, he took a small box from a hidden compartment in the study. He opened it to reveal a night-luminescent pearl the size of a pigeon's egg, shimmering with brilliant light.

This was his most prized possession, a war trophy of his father, Li Wenzhong. He had begged for a long time to get his hands on it, and usually, he couldn't even bear to touch it.

"Zhang San, oh Zhang San, if you are sensible, this thing is yours. If you are not..." The Duke of Cao's eyes turned sinister instantly. "Then your newborn son will be fatherless."

"Cousin, oh cousin, after helping you this time, when I die and go below, I can at least explain myself to my father..."

The Duke of Cao muttered, called over his most trusted servant, handed him the pearl and a letter, and whispered a few instructions. The servant acknowledged the order and quickly disappeared into the night.

At the Hour of the Rat, the gates of Nanjing were locked.

Outside the city, on the main road leading to the Xiaoling Mausoleum, a dozen carriages were speeding against the night wind.

Inside the carriage of one of them, the Duke of Song, General Feng Sheng, and the Duke of Ying, General Fu Youde, sat opposite each other. The two remained silent throughout the journey, the atmosphere oppressive.

"Old Feng," after a long time, General Fu Youde finally spoke in a hoarse voice. "Do you think, after walking on thin ice all these years, we can make it to the other side this time?"

General Feng Sheng closed his eyes, his aged face lined with deep wrinkles. Upon hearing this, he just sighed softly, "Once the bow is drawn, there is no turning back. From the moment we stepped into General Lan Yu's house, there was no retreat."

He opened his eyes, a flash of determination in his murky pupils. "We must win. If we win, the Third Imperial Prince ascends the throne, and we become meritorious ministers who aided the dragon, ensuring our families a century of prosperity. If we lose..."

He did not continue, but General Fu Youde understood.

If they lost, it would be eternal damnation.

"I just can't figure it out," General Fu Youde rubbed his temples. "The Third Imperial Prince is only fifteen years old this year, trapped deep in the palace. Why would he have such schemes and methods? That decisiveness in killing, it's simply... simply even more than the Emperor back in the day..."

"Like him." General Feng Sheng said the word for him.

Yes, too much like him.

That spirit of playing everyone in the palm of his hand, that coldness of regarding human life as mere grass, that madness of using any means to achieve his goals—it was as if he were carved from the same mold as the young Zhu Yuanzhang.

No, even more terrifying.

Because Zhu Yuanzhang's ruthlessness was out in the open. But the ruthlessness of this Third Imperial Grandson was hidden beneath that handsome, harmless face.

"Perhaps this is the true Son of Heaven." General Fu Youde gave a bitter smile. "That child, Imperial Grandson Zhu Yunwen, is too lukewarm. He's like a schoolteacher; he won't be able to hold onto this empire."

The carriage fell into silence once again.

The wheels rolled on, crushing the moonlight along the way. Behind them was the sleeping capital; before them lay an unknown fate.

In the Northern Division of the Imperial Guard, within Jiang Wan's office, the lights were blazing, illuminating his pale face to make it look even paler.

Stacks of secret reports flew in like snowflakes from every corner of the city, piling up on his desk. Each piece of paper felt like a red-hot branding iron, searing his fingertips until they went numb.

"At a quarter past the Hour of the Rat, the back door of the Mansion of the Duke of Liang opened. Multiple personnel were dispatched to the residences of the Duke of Song, the Duke of Ying, the Marquis of Dingyuan, and others..."

"At the beginning of the Hour of the Ox, a trusted servant from the Mansion of the Duke of Cao secretly met with Zhang San, the guard commander of Xuanwu Gate, staying for about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn."

"At a quarter past the Hour of the Ox, the carriages of the Duke of Song, General Feng Sheng, and the Duke of Ying, General Fu Youde, left the city, heading toward the Xiaoling Mausoleum."

"At two quarters past the Hour of the Ox, eight hundred unidentified personnel from the Mansion of the Duke of Liang assembled, changed into black clothing, held bits in their mouths, wrapped the horses' hooves, and are moving toward the North City..."

It's all over.

Jiang Wan slumped in his chair, his hands shaking as if he had Parkinson's. This time, the sky was truly falling!

He thought Crown Prince Zhu Yuntong just wanted to use General Lan Yu for self-protection, make a bit of noise, and force the Emperor to rescind his order. But he never expected that the moment this brat made a move, he would flip the table!

Contacting the generals of the Huaixi Faction, going to the Xiaoling Mausoleum to "mourn the tomb" to stall the Emperor, while simultaneously assembling troops in the capital to seize the gates.

This series of interlocking plans—how could this be the work of a fifteen-year-old boy?

What should he do now?

Immediately send someone out of the city, riding at full speed to report to the Emperor?

Just as this thought popped into Jiang Wan's mind, he seemed to hear Crown Prince Zhu Yuntong's smiling voice ringing in his ears.

"Jiang Wan, besides your wife and children in the capital, don't you have a childhood sweetheart surnamed Liu back in your hometown of Suzhou? She seems to have... given birth to a pair of twins for you. They should be five years old this year, right?"

With a shudder, all the hairs on Jiang Wan's body stood on end.

That young man, he wasn't bluffing. If he dared to say it, it meant he held a knife in his hand, ready to plunge it into his most vulnerable spot at any moment.

If he reported it, the Emperor would know. In his thunderous rage, General Lan Yu and Crown Prince Zhu Yuntong would certainly be on a path to death. But what about himself? What kind of good end could he have?

The Emperor might, in consideration of his pulling back from the brink at the last moment, spare his life, but his family... especially the three in Suzhou, would absolutely become sacrificial lambs used by the Emperor to appease Imperial Grandson Zhu Yunwen and Lady Lu.

But if he didn't report it... once Crown Prince Zhu Yuntong failed, he would be an undeniable accomplice, and execution of his nine generations would be a light punishment!

If he succeeded... a madman who dared to scheme against his own grandfather would be Emperor. How many more days could a dog like him, who knew too many secrets, survive?

This was an unsolvable problem.

No matter what he chose, it meant death.

The only difference was whether he died early or late, whether one person died, or the whole family died together.

"My Lord! My Lord!" A trusted lieutenant urged in a low voice outside the door. "There is already movement in the North City. Do we need our men to..."

"Get lost!"

Jiang Wan grabbed the inkstone from the table and smashed it hard against the door, producing a loud "clang."

"Without my order, no one is allowed to move! Even if the sky turns upside down in Nanjing tonight, it has nothing to do with our Embroidered Uniform Guard!"

The footsteps outside the door retreated in a panic, and only Jiang Wan's heavy, ragged breathing remained in the room.

He stared fixedly at the pile of secret reports on the table, his eyes bloodshot. Struggle, fear, madness—various emotions intertwined, finally dissolving into a dead silence.

He slowly stood up, walked to the candle stand, picked up a secret report, and held it to the flame.

The edges of the paper instantly curled and charred, then with a "whoosh," it burst into an orange flame.

The firelight reflected on his face, flickering in the shadows. He would gamble!

Jiang Wan closed his eyes and threw the ball of fire into the brazier.

He would gamble that the madman could win.

At least, it would allow him and his family to live a few more days.