The flickering lantern light did little to quell the storm brewing within Zhihao's heart. The game he was forced to play in this twisted court had become more perilous by the day. Minister Feng had finally overplayed his hand, and now Zhihao had no choice but to confront the man.
The reports from his spies were damning: military secrets were leaking to the Xu Kingdom, and they were traced back to Feng. The stakes had always been high, but now the war was knocking on their doorstep, and Zhihao was not about to let a snake like Feng slither his way out of this one.
But even snakes were dangerous when cornered.
Yun watched Zhihao from the corner of the room, his eyes trained on his king as he prepared for the confrontation with Feng. Yun was Zhihao's closest confidant, a silent shadow who had seen the dark depths of the court far better than most. As Zhihao's servant—and more importantly, his spy—Yun's loyalty was unwavering, but even he could feel the tension building in the palace. The web of deceit woven by the ministers had grown thick, and now, Zhihao was walking into the lion's den.
Yun had warned Zhihao about Feng's cunning, about the subtle ways the minister manipulated those around him. But Zhihao had his own plans, his own strategies. Yun respected that. He knew Zhihao was no ordinary ruler—his king was more dangerous than he let on, more ruthless than anyone in the court suspected.
Still, the thought gnawed at Yun. Could Minister Feng really be brought to heel? Feng was not the type to go down without a fight, and in this court, a fight could mean more than just words.
With a silent bow, Yun moved toward the door, his steps as quiet as the secrets he carried. "Your Majesty, Minister Feng has arrived."
Zhihao nodded, his face a serene mask of calm. "Send him in."
Minister Feng walked with deliberate grace, his robes brushing against the floor as he entered Zhihao's chambers. His eyes, sharp and calculating, took in every detail of the room, every shift of Zhihao's posture. Feng's smile was one of practiced politeness, but beneath that smile was the mind of a man who had survived in the court by outmaneuvering every threat that came his way.
The king had summoned him—an unusual move. Feng had expected a private audience eventually, but not so soon after the rumors began circulating about troop movements in the north. He had taken steps to ensure his connections with the Xu Kingdom were well hidden. Or so he thought.
As Feng approached the young king, he felt a flicker of unease. Zhihao had changed. The once weak and naive ruler had grown sharper, more dangerous. There was a subtle menace in the way Zhihao carried himself now, a calm authority that Feng hadn't expected.
But Feng wasn't worried. He had faced worse in his years at court.
"Your Majesty," Feng greeted, his voice smooth, offering a shallow bow. "To what do I owe this audience?"
Zhihao didn't bother with the usual pleasantries. His voice was low, cutting. "I know what you've done, Feng."
Feng's smile faltered for the briefest moment, his heartbeat quickening just slightly. So, it's true. He knows. But Feng was a master at keeping his composure, and within a blink, his mask was back in place. He chuckled softly, the sound carrying a hint of condescension. "I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific, Your Majesty. The court is full of rumors, after all."
Zhihao stepped forward, his gaze cold and piercing. "You've been leaking military information to the Xu Kingdom."
The accusation hit like a sledgehammer, and for a split second, Feng's mind raced. Who had betrayed him? He had been careful, too careful. The Xu Kingdom's contact was discreet, and the information had been passed in such a way that only a handful of people could have known.
But Feng was a survivor. He quickly shifted, his smile barely wavering. "Your Majesty, that's a grave accusation. You would not make such claims lightly, I'm sure."
"Grave enough to have you executed for treason," Zhihao said, his voice unwavering.
For the first time in years, a chill ran down Feng's spine. This wasn't the same Zhihao he had manipulated in the past. The boy-king who had been so easily led by his ministers was gone. The man before him was dangerous, more dangerous than Feng had anticipated.
But Feng wasn't about to be outmaneuvered. Not yet.
He met Zhihao's gaze, his smile turning cold. "You think you can simply accuse me and have me removed, but you forget, Your Majesty... I have powerful friends. Half the court is loyal to me, and should I fall, they will not stand idly by."
Zhihao's expression didn't change, but Feng could see the calculation in his eyes. The young king was weighing his options, considering his next move. Feng pressed his advantage, leaning in slightly. "Expose me, and you'll give your enemies exactly what they need. A reason to rise against you."
Silence hung in the air, the tension thick between them. Feng's heartbeat slowed, confidence returning as he saw Zhihao's hesitation. I still hold the upper hand, Feng thought to himself. This boy thinks he can play at politics, but he's not ready for the consequences.
But Zhihao's next words wiped the smirk from Feng's face.
"I should kill you where you stand," Zhihao said softly, his voice laced with venom. "But I won't."
Feng blinked, caught off guard. What?
Zhihao stepped even closer, his presence suffocating, eyes narrowing like a predator circling its prey. "You'll sever your connections with the Xu Kingdom quietly. You'll cease all dealings with them. And you'll do it now."
Feng stiffened, his mind racing. "And if I refuse?"
Zhihao's smile was cold, devoid of any warmth. "Then I'll let the Xu Kingdom know how quickly you turned on them. I'm sure they'd be very interested to hear how their 'ally' was so willing to betray them at the first sign of trouble."
The blood drained from Feng's face. He wouldn't. But looking into Zhihao's eyes, he realized the truth. Zhihao would. Feng had underestimated the king. This wasn't some boy playing at politics. This was a man who had grown up in the pit of the court, who had learned to fight with knives hidden behind smiles.
"I'll comply," Feng said, his voice tight. "For now."
Zhihao nodded, stepping back, satisfied. "Good. Remember, Minister Feng... there are eyes everywhere. One wrong move, and I'll know."
As Feng turned to leave, his heart pounded in his chest. He had come dangerously close to losing today. Zhihao was far more dangerous than anyone in the court had realized. But Feng wasn't done yet. He had his own cards to play, and if Zhihao thought this was over, he was sorely mistaken.
Outside the chamber, Yun stood silently as Feng exited, his face a mask of calm, though his keen eyes noted every detail. The minister's stiff movements, the tension in his jaw—Feng had lost the upper hand in that room.
Yun knew what this meant. The battle lines had been drawn, and soon the court would divide. Minister Feng would not take this defeat lightly. There would be retaliation, and when it came, Zhihao needed to be prepared. Yun had already put his spies to work, watching the ministers, the concubines, even the servants. If there was a move to be made against the king, Yun would know.
As Feng disappeared into the shadows of the palace, Yun stepped into the king's chamber. Zhihao was standing by the window, his expression unreadable, the weight of the confrontation still hanging in the air.
"Your Majesty," Yun said softly, "the minister has left."
Zhihao's gaze remained on the horizon. "And?"
"He won't comply for long," Yun said, his voice steady. "He'll bide his time, but he's already planning his next move."
Zhihao smiled faintly, though there was no joy in it. "Good. Let him."
Yun didn't respond. He didn't need to. The battle for the kingdom was just beginning, and both he and Zhihao knew it.
That night, as Feng returned to his quarters, his mind was a flurry of thoughts. He had lost today's battle, but the war was far from over. Zhihao had proven himself far more ruthless than expected, but Feng was nothing if not adaptable. He would regroup, gather his allies, and strike when the time was right.
But there was one thing that troubled him—the cold certainty in Zhihao's eyes. Feng had seen ambition before, but this... this was something different. Zhihao wasn't just fighting to keep his throne. He was fighting to take control of everything. And Feng had a sinking feeling that this young king might succeed.
As Feng poured himself a glass of wine, he made a silent vow. I will not be outplayed. Not by a boy.
The lines had been drawn, and Feng was ready for what was coming next.