Chapter 1

The night drum tolled again and again.

Its familiar sound reminded the old servants in the palace that this was the hour of deep night—when all should be silent, when all should be still.

Yet, in this vast imperial palace, neither master nor servant remained standing.

Whether once proud or long accustomed to bowing, all were now pressed to the floor in submission, their bodies sprawled across the grand hall, forming a dark mass that covered the golden tiles.

Outside the hall, the square had been washed three times over.

Water splashed against the stone slabs with a ceaseless “swish, swish,” yet the bloodstained filth lodged between the cracks stubbornly exuded a nauseating stench.

Heads had been severed throughout the night.

Even the executioners’ blades had grown dull.

Now, under the flickering lantern light, they numbly counted the trophies in their baskets.

A row of men, women, young, and old knelt in the grand hall, their faces ashen.

Near the center, steam rose from the floor—a sickly warmth betraying the fear that had loosened their bladders.

“Grand Tutor Wei, the princes and princesses of the palace are all here. Please have a look.”

The speaker was Lu Wenba, Commander of the Imperial Guards—once the great General Zhenyuan, who had swept through battlefields undefeated.

Now, he bent his tower-like frame and respectfully invited Grand Tutor Wei Lenghou, the regent of Great Wei, to ascend the throne.

Wei Lenghou’s face, ever accustomed to cold detachment, remained unchanged.

Even after orchestrating a coup overnight, personally beheading the so-called True Dragon Emperor, and bathing the entire palace in blood—overturning the very heavens of Great Wei—his expression remained one of calm indifference.

His deep phoenix eyes swept carelessly across the royal family, their damp robes betraying their terror.

Finally, amidst the quivering figures, he spotted a frail silhouette.

He lifted a hand and pointed lightly.

Immediately, two imperial guards stepped forward, grabbing a thin and bony child from the crowd.

To call him a child was almost a stretch.

He was fifteen, but prolonged malnutrition had left his frame more delicate than his peers.

His sharp chin only made his large eyes appear more striking.

Wei Lenghou saw it clearly—those slightly bright eyes held not a single tear.

If anything, the only response to the night’s massacre was a hint of bloodshot weariness, barely acknowledging the horror that had just unfolded.

“Reporting to the Grand Tutor, this is… the late emperor’s fourteenth son, Nie Qinglin. He was born of Concubine Li of Guang’en Palace, who recently passed away. He is fifteen this year.”

Even Eunuch Ruan, well-versed in palace affairs, hesitated for a moment before recalling the name of this neglected prince.

He quickly answered in a hushed voice behind Wei Lenghou.

“Fifteen? A bit too old…”

Wei Lenghou murmured absentmindedly.

Sensing his intent, Eunuch Ruan hurried to advise, “The sixteenth prince, born of Consort Ning from Yongning Palace, is of a much more suitable age—only six years old, still innocent and in need of the Grand Tutor’s careful guidance.”

As he spoke, a nearby guard yanked a chubby child from a group of richly dressed concubines and threw him before Wei Lenghou.

The sixteenth prince lifted his gaze to the towering man before him.

The moment he met those eyes—cold as shards of ice—memories of the evening’s horror surfaced: this man had stormed into the palace at dusk, cut down the emperor with a single strike, and now stood before him in all his merciless terror.

The child trembled like a leaf, gasping for breath.

Then, in a final burst of panic, he turned back toward the crowd, crying out, “Mother! Save me!”

Before another word could escape, he collapsed into unconsciousness.

Consort Ning, seeing her son in such a pitiable state, mustered what little courage she had left.

As a favored consort of the late emperor, with a father who held the high office of Minister of Personnel, she had been raised as a noble lady of great standing.

Even in the face of a traitor who had slain the emperor, she instinctively assumed her usual poise.

“Grand… Grand Tutor Wei,” she stammered, her delicate face streaked with tears.

“He is only a child. If you must take revenge, take it upon me. My father has always been on good terms with you… Please, for his sake, spare my Qi’er…”

Wei Lenghou regarded her tear-streaked, lotus-like beauty with a thoughtful gaze before finally speaking.

“Your Rong family, having basked in imperial favor, shamelessly plundered the people’s wealth, seduced the throne, and corrupted the court. If anything, I should indeed show your father some courtesy… Given that he has already ‘passed away suddenly’ in his manor, it is only fitting that his children and grandchildren accompany him.”

The words had barely left his lips when Consort Ning shrieked in despair.

She had placed her last hope in her father’s influence, only to learn that her entire family had already been slaughtered.

So, he knew.

This cold-hearted traitor had long been aware of her father’s past schemes against him.

He had never intended to spare her or her son.

Despair turned to fury.

She lunged at Wei Lenghou in a mad rage, cursing him.

Alas, she had not even come close before a guard’s blade struck her down.

Once the most breathtaking beauty of the six palaces, she twitched a few times before falling lifeless into a pool of blood.

At that moment, the dampness in the hall only grew heavier.

The stench of urine thickened, making even the battle-hardened guards wrinkle their brows in distaste.

Several concubines, pampered beyond measure, fainted from sheer terror.

“The late emperor has perished from illness, but the court cannot be without a ruler for a single day. The Rong family, having abused imperial favor to bring chaos to the state, must not be allowed to influence the new emperor’s ascension…”

With those few words, Eunuch Ruan, whose soul had nearly fled in terror, realized his grave mistake.

Wei Lenghou had risen to power young, favored and unstoppable.

Over the years, he had built a vast faction, allowing his influence to flourish unchecked in Great Wei.

But in a court that could not tolerate two tigers on one mountain, the noble families had sought to suppress this man of humble origins.

The palace had long been embroiled in factional strife.

Had it been merely a struggle between powerful ministers, a shrewd emperor might have maintained a delicate balance.

But the fault lay with Emperor Wei Ming—drowned in his obsessions, blinded by indulgence.

At first, he had pampered Wei Lenghou, feeding a tiger that would grow too powerful.

Then, for reasons unknown, he had turned against him, seeking to cut the beast down.

Unfortunately, Wei Lenghou had already foreseen the situation and acted decisively, launching a coup and eliminating all potential threats to his power.

However, the founding emperor of Great Wei had been wise, scattering members of the imperial family bearing the surname Nie across different regions as feudal kings.

These royal lords each commanded their own armies, and if the dynasty were to suddenly change hands to an outsider, it would only provide these ambitious warlords an excuse to rally their forces.

Grand Tutor Wei’s plan was to install a puppet emperor, biding his time until the moment was ripe to take power himself.

Realizing this, Eunuch Ruan nearly slammed his head into a palace pillar in regret—he had actually recommended the grandson of Grand Tutor Wei’s mortal enemy!

Before Eunuch Ruan could wipe away his cold sweat, Grand Tutor Wei had already reached out and gently grasped the chin of the fourteenth prince, Nie Qinglin, who had been silently kneeling by the side.

After studying him with half-lowered eyes, he remarked, “I hear he’s a cripple.”

Eunuch Ruan trembled.

He hadn’t expected Grand Tutor Wei to know such secret palace affairs.

Clearly, the man had been considering his choice of puppet for a long time.

Hastily, Eunuch Ruan replied in a sharp voice, “Grand Tutor, according to the palace maids who tend to the princes, the Fourteenth Prince is indeed… incapable.”

Upon hearing this, Wei Lenghou keenly noticed a slight tremor in the previously calm and composed Fourteenth Prince.

Interesting—having his masculine dignity shattered before a crowd seemed to wound him more than the gruesome death of his own father…

If it weren’t for the fact that this cripple, who could never leave behind imperial heirs, was the perfect candidate to silence the court ministers, Wei Lenghou might have actually felt the urge to strip him down and take a closer look at his so-called deformity, purely for amusement.

“A prince long out of favor, with no mother to protect him and none of the usual arrogance of royalty—perhaps this is a blessing for the people of Great Wei,” Wei Lenghou’s deep voice echoed through the grand hall.

As he spoke, the frail youth was effortlessly lifted by the towering man with a single hand.

“I hereby proclaim the Fourteenth Prince, Nie Qinglin, as the new emperor of Great Wei.”

With these resolute words, a weak fifteen-year-old boy was nailed to the dragon throne.

The hall erupted into chaos.

Every prince and concubine from noble backgrounds was placed under house arrest in separate residences, while the rest were thrown into the Cold Palace prison, never to see daylight again.

That night, as the young emperor was led back to his chambers by the palace servants, he couldn’t help but sigh softly at the wails of despair echoing behind him.

It was late autumn.

Watching the fallen leaves pile up by the palace walls, he felt a deep melancholy.

He had thought he had already endured the worst of this palace’s torment—if he could not escape, then at least he could have died with the others.

But to be made into a lifeless puppet, forced to endure this miserable existence…

Now, his survival depended entirely on Grand Tutor Wei’s whims.

The day Wei decided the emperor should die would be the day he took his last breath.

On such a cool and crisp day, it would be the perfect time for an imperial funeral.

But for now, he had survived—temporarily.

As for the future… how long would this torment last?

Upon returning to his chambers, he was somewhat relieved to find that An Qiao’er, the maid who had served him since childhood, had also been brought to the palace hall.

The eunuchs and maids of the palace all knew well that Great Wei had completely fallen into Grand Tutor Wei’s hands.

This newly enthroned emperor was nothing more than a figurehead, so none of them even bothered to curry favor with him.

Once the attendants had withdrawn, An Qiao’er closed the heavy curtains around the imperial bed and anxiously whispered, “Your Highness, you… weren’t discovered, were you?”

At last, Nie Qinglin could relax slightly.

He slowly undressed, noting An Qiao’er’s tense expression.

Smiling reassuringly, he said, “Luckily, I didn’t drink too much water before being taken to the grand hall. The others wet themselves terribly. Even my usually dignified Sixth Brother relieved himself multiple times—he nearly soaked my robes as well. But my own clothes remained dry, which was fortunate. If someone besides you had been sent to change my pants, that would have been a disaster.”

An Qiao’er sighed.

Even in the face of such upheaval, her master still acted carefree and lighthearted.

“This is truly the result of past sins. Lady Li’s one mistake years ago has caused Your Highness endless suffering…”

By now, Nie Qinglin had removed his outer robes and unfastened his fitted inner garment, revealing a slender frame.

Though thin, a sharp eye would immediately notice the slight swell of a chest that should not have been there…

This was no prince.

This was an undeveloped princess.

An Qiao’er sighed again.

“It was easier to hide when you were younger, when you could pass as either a boy or a girl. But now that you’re growing up, how will we keep this secret?”

Nie Qinglin changed into her sleeping robes and, seeing An Qiao’er’s worried face, smiled faintly.

“My uncles and cousins are not fools, and Grand Tutor Wei has far too much on his plate dealing with his grand conquest. He won’t waste time verifying my identity. The only thing that matters is that we are now in the spotlight, and we must be even more careful with our words and actions. We must always remember that Grand Tutor Wei is the true master of the palace. As long as we bow our heads and obey, we will be fine. Never truly think of me as the Son of Heaven, and don’t dwell on past grudges and injustices.”

An Qiao’er nodded.

She was nearly thirty now, having spent most of her life in the palace—how could she not understand these truths?

In fact, this was exactly what she had intended to warn the Fourteenth Prince about.

But clearly, this child had already grasped everything.

Ah… if Lady Li’s only child had truly been a boy, what a proud and gallant young man he would have become.

But fate was cruel, leading step by step into an inescapable trap…

Thinking of Grand Tutor Wei, a man ruthless in slaughter and filled with the ambition of a wolf, An Qiao’er could only feel despair for her young mistress’s future.

How could that treacherous man possibly allow Her Highness to sit on the dragon throne and live to adulthood, let alone rule in her own right?

By calculation, there was only one year left until Her Highness turned sixteen—the age of majority.

But it was likely that before that birthday arrived, a cup of poisoned wine would have already been bestowed…

This child’s fate… had never been hers to control.