Ren Ye's hand gripped the cold armrest of the seat, his breath steady as he fought to suppress the overwhelming urge to break. His mind raced, yet he forced it still, focusing on the present.
Calm down, he reminded himself. The more desperate the situation, the calmer you must be.
His knowledge of this "large-scale plot-playing" stargate was limited, and he wasn't entirely clear on the intricate mechanics behind it. But there was one certainty: he couldn't afford to lose. He couldn't afford to be passive. Huang Wei had warned him—four players had already died in the previous missions. One misstep, and it would all be over.
Ren Ye's position as a mere "waste" Huaiwang held no sway here. The officials in this hall barely regarded him, and the guards outside might as well have been stone statues, indifferent to his commands. To survive this palace game, he needed to find the one thing he could control.
His eyes scanned the hall, each face an enemy or potential ally, but they all blurred together. Until they stopped. On Wang Jingzhong.
Ren Ye's gaze locked on the old general, kneeling before him, bloodied and broken, yet still holding on to a sliver of dignity. His voice, cold and detached, cut through the silence. "If you intend to rebel, do you have anything to say?"
Wang Jingzhong's cloudy eyes met Ren Ye's, and for a brief moment, a silence stretched between them. Ren Ye's heart gave a quiet sigh of relief. He had asked the question not out of necessity, but to test the loyalty of the old man—to see if he could still trust him. Wang Jingzhong's gaze held firm, no hint of betrayal.
As the moment stretched on, the old man's mind wandered back, seemingly lost in memories of days long past. The silence was broken by his deep, hoarse voice, trembling but resolute.
"My subordinates do have something to say," Wang Jingzhong's words rang out, echoing in the vast hall.
Ren Ye's brow furrowed, sensing the weight of what was to come. "What do you say?" he asked, his tone betraying none of his thoughts.
Wang Jingzhong straightened, his voice growing louder with every word. "I remember the fierce horses of southern Xinjiang, the exotic beauties... I remember the hot wine shared with the former king, leading my men to battle, victorious, never returning until the enemy was vanquished... I remember my oath on Qingliang Mountain, side by side with the first king, swearing to protect the land with my life!"
His voice cracked with emotion as he continued, his form shaking. "Now, the first king is gone, and I—this old man—am nothing but a shadow of his former self. I cannot carry a blade, I cannot wear armor… How can I disgrace my young master like this?"
The hall was silent. Even the officials held their breath, caught in the gravity of Wang Jingzhong's confession.
Ren Ye's chest tightened, an unexpected pang of sorrow stabbing through him. He knew Wang Jingzhong had misunderstood his question. The old general was not planning to betray him—he had only misunderstood the prince's intentions. His loyalty, however misguided, still held weight.
"My subordinates will die here, but I hope, young master, that you will one day again raise the Zhenguo Sword!" Wang Jingzhong's voice thundered in the stillness, his words a last plea for remembrance.
Liu Jishan was the first to react, his voice high and panicked. "Stop him! This old man wants to die!"
Outside the hall, the guards stood motionless, unmoved by the scene within. Yet, some of them, hearing the meaning behind Wang Jingzhong's final words, could not hide the tears in their eyes.
"My lord enters the temple, and the old minister salutes!" Wang Jingzhong straightened once more, his body exhausted, and slammed his head onto the stone floor.
"Bang!"
A heavy crack split the air as his skull hit the ground with force. The stone beneath him fractured, and blood began to spill, staining the floor with a dark red that spread across the hall.
His body, still kneeling, remained upright for a moment before his head shattered against the floor, sending a spray of blood over the cold stones.
The hall was still, every official frozen in stunned silence. None of them had expected Wang Jingzhong's desperate act to shatter the tense atmosphere. To them, his loyalty to the former king, and the overwhelming courage to end his life so publicly, was an unimaginable turn of events. They had assumed that he would cling to his family, his legacy, anything. But in his final moments, he had chosen to end it all, an expression of unwavering loyalty that no one could have anticipated.
Ren Ye stood there, equally stunned, his mind racing. He had never expected that one simple question would lead to such an outcome. The veteran had not just died; he had given his life in an explosive act of devotion. How much courage did it take to do that? What bond did he share with the former King Huai that drove him to this? In a matter of mere seconds, his world, once so focused on his own survival, was now ripped wide open by this display of undying loyalty.
A wave of anger and sadness, utterly uncontrollable, surged through him. The thought echoed in his mind: Is this really a game? Everything—the people, the things, the very space around him—felt more real now than ever before. The blood that stained the floor, still warm, was a cruel reminder of the price of loyalty.
As the blood soaked into the stone floor, the officials continued to stand in stunned silence, but it wasn't long before Liu Jishan broke it. His eyes cold, his words full of malice: "Your Highness, though Wang Jingzhong is dead, rebellion is a grave matter. He must have comrades. I urge you to arrest every member of his clan and interrogate them under torture."
Ren Ye snapped back to reality, his thoughts interrupted by the cold, methodical words. He turned his gaze to Liu Jishan, the hatred in his eyes barely concealed. The man was relentless, seizing any opportunity to strike against him.
"Please, Your Highness, arrest the members of Wang Jingzhong's clan and interrogate them strictly!" Liu Jishan's voice rang out again, followed by the chorus of more than forty officials. Their united call for action was deafening, a calculated push to strip Ren Ye of what little authority he had left, to strip away the remnants of his power and dignity.
Ren Ye, his heart heavy with both anger and helplessness, responded coolly, his voice cutting through the tension. "It will take time to track down Wang Jingzhong's accomplices. We will discuss it later."
Before he could speak further, the princess's voice interrupted the charged atmosphere. She had been silent until now, but her voice, clear and ethereal, rang out in the hall like a bell. "Since all of you adults are so eager to judge cases, I too have one that requires the prince's judgment."
The room fell silent again, this time in confusion. The officials turned to look at the princess, surprise flickering in their eyes. Since her marriage to the prince, she had remained aloof, almost ghostly in her absence from the political realm. She had never spoken out in matters of the court. This was the first time they had heard her voice in such a context.