Palace Coup 28

In this era, family bloodlines are considered unbreakable. The great clans rely on the recommendation system to maintain their official positions, practicing nepotism and favoring their own kin over the talented. The power they have accumulated through generations of inheritance is evident.

Powerful clans like the Wangs of Langya and the Cuis of Qinghe do not even regard the Emperor with respect. While the throne may change hands several times in a century, these great families endure for hundreds of years without falling.

Members naturally feel a sense of belonging to their clan. What could have forced a refined scholar like Father Xie to sever ties with his family and engage in commerce—a trade despised by the nobility as "base"? This stands in stark contradiction to current values.

Why abandon a career in government to become a merchant?

Having occupied the body of his daughter, she felt an obligation to get to the bottom of these matters. There was clearly a dense fog behind all this, and she needed to find the truth.

Knock, knock. "Young Mistress."

A silhouette was cast upon the door by someone standing outside with a lantern, stretching into a long shadow. "Have you been suffering from nightmares, Young Mistress? Shall I call for a physician to take a look?"

She opened the door to let him in. Xie Yuanju was carrying a pot of hot tea. She watched as he poured it and handed it to her. "Drink some tea to settle your nerves."

In the dim, hazy night, the man’s eyes were deep as a pool and as cool as the moonlight, gradually overlapping with the paranoid gaze she had seen in her dream.

Xie Miaoxuan stared at him intently, suddenly feeling she had misjudged him; these were clearly eyes filled with gentle, lingering affection.

"Thank you. Are you on night watch tonight?"

Xie Yuanju raised an eyebrow. "Thank you?"

"Yes."

After answering, he observed her complexion—pale and cold—and noted she was wearing only a thin outer garment. He frowned slightly. "Young Mistress, you are dressed too lightly. The autumn nights are chilly. The trunks have all been organized today; I shall have someone fetch your winter clothes."

Xie Miaoxuan was indifferent. She had begun to intentionally increase her food intake, hoping to build up this paper-thin body, add some weight to survive the winter, and prepare for the chaotic times that might arrive at any moment, as well as the martial arts training she intended to start.

She had not paid much attention to such trivialities as how many layers of clothing she wore, but she accepted his kindness.

Recalling that he had spent years traveling, she thought he might have heard of these things. Xie Miaoxuan rubbed her temple and asked, "Have you ever heard of witchcraft or evil cults?"

His hands paused. Lowering his eyes, he said, "It is rumored that in the Miao regions, succession passes through the daughters. The lineage of their masters is the purest, and they are most skilled at using 'gu' to manipulate hearts and destroy bodies. In the previous dynasty, someone used this art to nearly control the inner palace. Afterward, it was strictly forbidden, and the branch of the Miao people skilled in 'gu' vanished into the mountains, leaving no trace."

"As for 'evil cults,' few dare to use that term now," he said, knitting his brows. "You are likely referring to the Mingwang Chan Sect. It is rumored that their high-ranking members can refine golden pills, and those who master them can ascend to heaven in broad daylight, leaving their mortal shells behind. The imperial family and the great clans revere them, honoring them as Heavenly Masters. Once, an official submitted a memorial arguing that these were heretical doctrines that should not be trusted, but he was reprimanded and executed by the Emperor. Since then, no one has dared to utter the words 'evil cult' again."

Xie Miaoxuan felt a chill run down her spine.

*Gu* insects sounded bizarre—burrowing into skin, sucking out brains. But since they had hidden away in the mountains and rarely walked among people, it would be difficult to find them, so she set that aside for now.

As for the Mingwang Chan Sect, what emperor wouldn't desire immortality? The "True Dragon" Emperor was the Son of Heaven, so he would naturally prefer to believe in such miracles of ascension.

To investigate the mysteries within would inevitably involve imperial secrets.

Yet, why would her father, a man from a declining noble family, warn her on his deathbed to be wary of these two things? What was the origin of this, and what unknown secrets lay hidden?

"Is that why you were having nightmares, Young Mistress?" Xie Miaoxuan sensed the weariness in his tone.

She vaguely brushed the topic aside. Thinking of how he had been working himself to the bone for her in the capital, traveling over a hundred miles back and forth, and now standing guard all night—he could have at most snatched a few moments of sleep—a rare spark of conscience ignited in her. "I am fine now. Go and rest. You have to help me with matters tomorrow; you must be well-rested."

The sleeve of her robe brushed against the back of his hand as she urged him to leave. "Find someone else to take over the watch."

She did not boastfully claim she didn't need a guard; although the estate was now under her control, one must always be wary of others. Caution was never a mistake.

As she pushed him out the door, she noticed his ears turning a deep, flushed crimson. Only then did she realize how close they had been standing. Her sleeve had been resting against his hand.

Her mind shifted. So, he was susceptible to this, was he?

Seeing her mischievous smirk, he coughed lightly to cover his embarrassment. "If you have any questions, Young Mistress, you may ask me anything. I will tell you all I know."

"Then one last question: where is the most famous Taoist temple in the capital?"

Inside the palace.

Within the towering walls.

Ao Lei was leading the patrol tonight. As they passed the Fengyang Palace, a sharp, biting wind blew through, stirring anger in the hearts of his men.

One of them couldn't help but grumble, "We not only have to handle the patrol of the entire imperial city, but now we even have to handle waiting on the palace consorts. Boss, as the Commander of the Guards, you earned your position with your own skill. That Xun Cheng merely relies on the grace of his ancestors to hold the title of Palace Gentleman. A pampered fop—how is it that he gets to stomp all over us, acting arrogant and issuing orders?"

"I heard that Xun Cheng has now inserted his hands into the Northern Army of the Imperial Guard. Even Zhi Hong, the Lieutenant, is complaining endlessly."

"If you ask me, I suspect this Xun Cheng wants to control the entire Imperial Guard. Even if His Majesty agrees, the Grand Marshal won't."

Hearing this, Ao Lei slapped the man hard on the head. "His Majesty's intentions are not for the likes of us to guess!"

The man chuckled. "Boss, do you think we should..." He made a throat-slitting gesture.

Ao Lei’s eyes narrowed.

The Imperial Guard was divided into Northern and Southern camps, originally with clear boundaries. The Commander, Stone Chong, only cared about luxury and showing off his wealth, ignoring military affairs, so the two armies had lived in peace.

The Southern Army was responsible for the Emperor's safety and guarding the palace, while the Northern Army was responsible for the capital and its surroundings.

But ever since Xun Cheng was promoted to Palace Gentleman of the Southern Army, he had transferred all the sons of noble families to be the Emperor's personal bodyguards and secured titles and ranks for every one of those playboys.

They, the Northern Army, were also part of the Imperial Guard. Even though their skills were superior to those of the spoiled nobles, they were relegated to patrol duties simply because they were from humble, commoner backgrounds. They had to bow and scrape to those noble sons, only to be berated for no reason.

The others lived in luxury, not even leaving them a scrap of the spoils. Naturally, this split the Imperial Guard into two hostile camps.

Now, Xun Cheng was reaching into the Northern Army. If he gained control over most of the Imperial Guard, it would leave them with no way to survive.

Every one of them had carried their family's blood and sweat to get into the Imperial Guard. If they were pushed into a corner, they would have no choice but to rebel.

A dog will jump over a wall if pressed.

Fortunately, he had already defected to *that* person. As long as he completed the task at hand... he had been promised control over the entire Imperial Guard.

Thinking of this, a triumphant smile appeared on Ao Lei’s dark face.

He scolded with a laugh, "You bastards, what's wrong with guarding the consorts? Have the rewards you've received from their fingers been so few?"

He seemed to recall something and added with hidden meaning, "The Grand Marshal is already preparing to strike. Just endure him a little longer."

After passing through Chaoyong Alley, their patrol for the day was finished. They could slack off until the hour of the Tiger.

Just then, a black shadow darted across the eaves at high speed. The figure carried a large cloth sack on their shoulder, which appeared to hold a human shape and was quite heavy, causing a rustling sound as they stepped on the roof tiles.

Yet, that person made no effort to be discreet, as if they didn't care about the Imperial Guard patrolling below at all.