57: Chapter 57 Light and Darkness

Inside the warm pavilion, the charcoal fire burned brightly.

The crimson firelight flickered across the faces of the three people, reflecting the deep-seated emotions in their eyes—ambition, calculation, boundless longing for the future, and a bottomless wariness and gravity.

Hearing this, a confident smile of absolute certainty spread across Princess Xia Zhiqing's face.

This smile was not ordinary smugness, nor was it shallow showing off—

it was a composure that seeped from her very bones after having everything completely under control.

In her smile, there was both the innate noble aura of the Great Xia Eldest Princess and the extraordinary confidence of a Core Disciple of the Xuantian Sect.

These two traits intermingled and coexisted, merging in a perfect Fusion within her, making her appear increasingly dazzling and eye-catching—so dazzling that one dared not look directly at her, and so eye-catching that one could not look away.

"Rest assured, Mother."

Her voice was not loud, yet every word was clear, as if carved in stone:

"My Revered Master and I have long had a private agreement."

She paused, and in that pause lay a weight of a thousand catties:

"For this Hundred Dynasties War, the Sect will dispatch its most elite Disciples to assist us—"

She raised her eyes, the light within them astonishingly bright:

"And all Disciples will be under my command—"

She spoke word by word:

"They will follow my lead blindly."

"What we want—"

Her voice paused slightly, and in that pause lay a bottomless calculation:

"is solid, illustrious military merit in the Hundred Dynasties War—"

"the right to allocate core resources after the war—"

"and even more so, within the Great Xia court—"

She spoke word by word, each word like a hammer blow:

"an unshakable right to speak."

"And what the Sect wants—"

She raised her eyes, the burning light within them intense and overbearing:

"is to use this great war to restore its prestigious reputation."

"To make all forces in the Southern Territory once again face its terrifying heritage—"

"and to compete for the dominance of the Southern Territory in the future—"

She paused, and in that pause was a majestic grandeur that could swallow mountains and rivers:

"pave the way."

She paused.

Her gaze grew increasingly resolute, like iron quenched into a sharp blade.

This determination was a resilience forged through a thousand trials, a decisiveness born from weighing pros and cons countless times.

"Although our ultimate goals are not entirely the same—"

She spoke word by word, each word carved in stone:

"the path leading to our goals right now is completely identical."

"At least before the curtain falls on the Hundred Dynasties War—"

She raised her eyes, the light within them cold and clear:

"our interests are tightly bound together—"

"sharing weal and woe—"

"with absolutely no possibility of mutual infighting."

Having said that.

She looked out the window once more.

The night grew deeper.

So deep it was like a giant net, enveloping the entire royal capital.

Under the moonlight, the palaces and pavilions of the royal capital outlined a cold and sharp silhouette—

those veins of power hidden among the upturned eaves and bracket sets, those deeply rooted entanglements of factions in the court—

had nowhere to hide under her sharp gaze.

Every tiny detail was revealed.

"The Hundred Dynasties War—"

Her voice was not loud, but it carried an ironclad decisiveness.

That decisiveness was like a cold sword just unsheathed—

its sharp edge fully exposed.

Its chill was piercing.

"is the first step for us to break this deadlock."

"I want the banner of the Xuantian Sect—"

She spoke word by word, each word like a hammer blow:

"to be planted at the highest peak of the Hundred Dynasties War."

"Let all the powerhouses under heaven witness its true strength."

"And even more, I want the name of Princess Xia Zhiqing—"

She paused, and in that pause was a majestic ambition that could swallow mountains and rivers:

"to resound throughout the tens of thousands of miles of dynasties in the Southern Territory."

"Let everyone understand clearly—"

She turned around slowly, her movement slow yet powerful, as if turning the gears of fate:

"the future of Great Xia—"

She spoke word by word, each word like a knife:

"can only be by me, Princess Xia Zhiqing—"

"ruled!"

She paused slightly.

Her unspoken words lingered in her throat.

Yet it had already made the air inside the warm pavilion feel a few degrees heavier—

this monstrous ambition hidden in her eyes was just like a Vicious Beast lurking in the dark night—

biding its time.

Waiting only for the right moment to break free from its shackles—

and tear apart all the peace before it.

General Lin Zhong and Lin Yaner exchanged a glance.

From each other's eyes, they both saw an unprecedented determination.

There was also a hint of eagerly anticipated expectation that could not be suppressed.

This expectation was a gambler's longing for fate after staking their entire fortune.

They knew in their hearts—

from this moment on, there was no turning back.

Their only choice was to follow Princess Xia Zhiqing, and stake everything in this grand gamble that risked the rise and fall of the Lin family and the fate of Great Xia—

and give it their all.

A storm capable of overturning Great Xia's century-old landscape—

was already quietly brewing amidst these whispers in the dark night.

And at the very center of the storm—

was precisely this young girl who carried royal Bloodline and immortal Sect Legacy.

She stood before the window, her robes fluttering in the night wind.

This silhouette from behind was as upright as a pine tree.

Decisive as a blade.

At the same time.

Inside the study of the Eastern Palace—

it was a scene of complete devastation and ruin.

*Bang!*

Crown Prince Xia Hong suddenly flung his hand.

The memorials, inkstones, and celadon vases on the desk were all swept to the floor.

The crisp sound of the celadon vases shattering—

*Clatter!*

was harsh and startling.

This sound was magnified countless times in the dead silence, as if something was fracturing and collapsing.

Thick black ink splattered across the bright yellow tablecloth,

spreading into a glaring dark shadow.

Just like his currently surging, relentless aura of violence—

dark, viscous, and with nowhere to vent.

"That bitch Princess Xia Zhiqing!"

His voice squeezed out from between his teeth, each word like a poisoned blade:

"Not only did she snatch control over the Yanyang Secret Realm—"

"that fool Emperor Xia Quan actually allowed her to form the Heaven-Hunting Guard!"

He suddenly raised his hand and slammed his fist onto the desk—

*Thud!*

The dull thud made the entire desk tremble:

"That is clearly a private army she is raising!"

Crown Prince Xia Hong's chest heaved violently.

This heaving was rapid and fierce, as if it were about to burst.

On his forehead, blue veins bulged.

The veins were stretched taut, one by one, as if about to burst through his skin.

His eyes were as crimson as blood.

That redness was not from tears, but from hatred—

a hatred suppressed for too, too long, which finally could no longer be contained and erupted forth.

Where was there even a fraction of his usual gentle and composed demeanor as the Crown Prince?

The several trusted ministers standing below the steps—

exchanged glances upon seeing this.

In their exchanged glances, there was panic, fear, and even more so, helplessness.

They did not even dare to breathe heavily.

The Minister of Rites bowed tremblingly.

His bowing posture was as humble as a blade of grass bent by the wind.

His voice carried a hint of cautious probing:

"Your Highness, please appease your anger!"

"Although the Eldest Princess's move seems aggressive, what she said in the hall today—"

He paused, and in that pause lay a weight of a thousand catties:

"was ultimately for the Hundred Dynasties War, and for the sake of Great Xia's territory..."

"For the Hundred Dynasties War?"

Crown Prince Xia Hong whipped his head around.

The movement of his head turning was as fast as a blade slicing through the air.

He kicked the solid wood desk leg ruthlessly—

*Bang!*

That dull thud made people's hearts tremble.

The heavy desk let out an overburdened groan, creaking loudly—

nearly collapsing entirely.

"She is doing it for herself!"

His voice rose to its highest peak, then suddenly plummeted, becoming deep and cold:

"For the deeply entrenched Lin family behind her!"

He raised his hand, his fingers trembling slightly with anger as he pointed at the dark night outside the window:

"With the Yanyang Secret Realm held in her hands—"

"she can screen confidants, control Geniuses, and cultivate her own private power!"

"With the Heaven-Hunting Guard under her control—"

"she can command military power, intimidate the court, and hollow out the royal family!"

He suddenly turned his head, his gaze like a poisoned dagger, stabbing fiercely toward the ministers:

"The next step—"

He spoke word by word, each word like a knife:

"will she force a palace coup to seize the throne—"

"and make me, the Crown Prince, vacate my position for her?!"

The ministers remained silent.

No one dared to respond.

That silence was like an invisible wall, suffocating everyone.

They all knew—

the grievances between the Crown Prince and the Eldest Princess had long been deeply buried.

The past grievances were like a seed buried in the soil, day after day, year after year, quietly taking root and quietly sprouting.

Previously, it was only due to the majesty of Emperor Xia Quan that they maintained a superficial peace—

nodding and smiling when they met, and acting polite in court.

They had never, like today—

completely torn off their masks.

laying all their suspicion and monstrous anger plainly on the table.

After a long time.

A very long time.

Only then did the Vice Minister of Revenue summon the courage to take a step forward.

That step forward seemed to take all his strength.

He lowered his voice.

His voice was extremely low, as if afraid of startling something:

"Your Highness, please do not be impatient."

"The Emperor is wise and deep-thinking—"

He paused, and in that pause lay a cautious probe:

"how could he not see the Eldest Princess's soaring ambition?"

"His granting of the Eldest Princess's request this time might be an intentional delegation of power—"

He raised his eyes, a glint of shrewdness within them:

"to let the Eldest Princess fight for Great Xia in the Hundred Dynasties War—"

"If she succeeds, Great Xia obtains resources and wins military merit—"

"If she fails..."

"Fails?"

Crown Prince Xia Hong sneered.

This laughter was filled with gloom and resentment.

Piercing as ice.

Sharp as a knife.

"If she fails, the Lin family's forces will surely take the opportunity to counterattack—"

"spreading rumors everywhere, slandering us for holding her back and cutting off her retreat."

"If she succeeds—"

His voice suddenly plummeted, deep and cold:

"holding illustrious military merit and heavy troops, her prestige will be towering—"

"even Father would probably have to fear her by three points!"

He raised his eyes, the sinister gloom within them too thick to disperse:

"Whether she wins or loses—"

"I, the Crown Prince, will have become Princess Xia Zhiqing's—"

He spoke word by word, each word like a hammer blow:

"stepping stone!"

His words fell.

The study once again fell into a dead silence.

This dead silence was deeper, heavier, and colder than any time before.

The candle flame flickered unsteadily.

The light shivered in the night wind, as if gripped tightly by something invisible.

stretching his shadow long and distorted.

Reflected on the messy floor—

it appeared exceptionally wretched.

Yet it also carried a trace of desperate violence.

Crown Prince Xia Hong paced anxiously in the study.

The soles of his black boots repeatedly crushed the porcelain shards on the floor.

*Crunch—*

*Crunch—*

This harsh sound was exceptionally eerie in the dead silence.

It felt as though it was tearing at the already extremely tense air.

Once, twice, and again.

He suddenly stopped in his tracks.

The sudden stop was so swift it seemed as if he had been frozen.

His sharp gaze, like a poisoned dagger—

stabbed directly at the Minister of War standing below the steps.

His tone was cold enough to freeze one's marrow.

Carrying an unquestionable command:

"The border army and capital camp military positions previously handed over by the Lin family—"

He spoke word by word, each word like a knife:

"keep a death grip of a watch on them!"

"Regardless of whether it is troop movements or officer appointments—"

"even if there is only a fraction of an anomaly, report it immediately—"

He paused, and in that pause lay a weight of a thousand catties:

"not even a delay of half a quarter of an hour is allowed!"

He paused slightly.

The sinister gloom surging in his eyes grew increasingly intense.

This gloom was too thick to disperse, like a pool of stagnant water, bottomless.

His voice was pressed extremely low.

So low it seemed squeezed out from between his teeth.

Yet it concealed a bone-chilling ruthlessness:

"And the Yanyang Secret Realm—"

"immediately send someone to contact the Starry Sky Sect, the Lihuo Sect, and the Heavenly Dao Hall."

He raised his eyes, the light within them so cold that one dared not look directly:

"Tell them—"

"as long as they are willing to help me contain Princess Xia Zhiqing in the Secret Realm—"

He paused, and in that pause lay endless malice:

"even if... they eliminate the capable assistants by her side—"

"when I ascend to the great throne in the future—"

He spoke word by word, each word carved in stone:

"the mineral veins, Cultivation Techniques, and fiefs I promised them—"

"will only be more, never less!"

The Minister of War felt his heart shudder upon hearing this.

This shudder surged from the deepest part of his heart, traveling all the way up his spine—

reaching the back of his head and his scalp, making his entire body tremble.

Cold sweat—

instantly drenched his back.

This cold sweat, freezing and piercing, rolled down from his temples—

drop by drop, splashing onto the cold golden floor tiles.

The Crown Prince's words—

made it clear he intended to use the hands of The Three Sects to deal a fatal blow to the Eldest Princess in the Secret Realm!

If there was even a slight mishap in this matter—

it would be a fatal disaster involving the execution of his entire clan!

Yet he did not dare to hesitate in the slightest.

He hurriedly bowed and prostrated himself on the ground.

His prostrate posture was as humble as a puddle of mud.

His voice trembled:

"This subject... this subject understands—"

"I will go do it immediately!"

Crown Prince Xia Hong waved his hand impatiently.

The waving gesture was filled with exhaustion and irritation.

In his tone, there was fatigue that could not be concealed.

Yet it was also wrapped in monstrous irritation:

"All of you, dismiss!"

"From this day on, every single move of the Lin family and Princess Xia Zhiqing—"

He paused, and in that pause lay a weight of a thousand catties:

"keep a death watch on them for me!"

"Whom she meets, where she goes, as long as there is the slightest bit of news—"

He spoke word by word, each word like a knife:

"report at any time!"

"Even if it is late at night—"

"no delay is allowed!"

The ministers felt as if they had received a great amnesty.

They did not even dare to glance at the shattered porcelain and spilled ink on the floor.

Bowing, they quickly retreated.

Their retreating steps were so fast it seemed they were fleeing some terrifying entity.

Leaving only Crown Prince Xia Hong—

in the vast, dead silent study.

He stared at the mess all over the floor.

That mess, piece by piece, item by item, was like his currently shattered heart.

Suddenly—

he raised his hand to cover his face.

The action of covering his face was filled with helplessness and despair.

A suppressed low growl leaked from between his fingers.

The growl was full of unwillingness and resentment.

Just like the mournful cry of a trapped beast in a desperate situation—

despair.

desolation.

with nowhere to escape.

He had always thought—

as long as he followed the rules and strictly abided by his duties as the Crown Prince.

Relying on the support of the veteran court officials and his father's tacit consent—

this position of heir apparent would be rock-solid and secure.

But the appearance of Princess Xia Zhiqing—

was like a sharp sword suddenly unsheathed.

Not only did it slice through the superficial peace of the Great Xia court.

It also punctured his self-deceiving security—

her sharp edge.

her ambition.

The power gripped in her palms—

was, bit by bit, gnawing away at his status.

Forcing him to retreat step by step—

until there was no retreat left.

Moonlight from outside the window filtered through the lattice, casting mottled shadows on the floor.

It happened to illuminate his distorted, hideous profile.

His profile flickered in and out of the light and shadow—

jealousy.

anger.

fear.

Countless negative emotions surged and collided within his chest.

Threatening to—

completely consume him.

"Princess Xia Zhiqing..."

He slowly lowered his hand.

The motion of lowering it was very, very slow.

He muttered this name in a low voice.

As if chewing on a gut-wrenching, lethal poison.

His tone was bone-chillingly cold:

"You want to step on me to climb up?"

"You want to snatch away everything that should belong to me?"

He paused, and in that pause lay endless malice and madness:

"Wishful thinking!"

In the darkness.

His gaze grew increasingly cold and sinister.

Cold like ice that had not melted for ten thousand years.

No one knew—

a sinister, ruthless plan saturated with hostility—

was quietly taking shape in his heart.

Concealing a resolve to perish together.

Concealing a madness to destroy everything.

Meanwhile, the study of the Lin Manor—

was a completely different scene.