Before long, news spread that His Majesty had been assassinated by a killer. Immediately afterward, the palace underwent a massive purge. The Crown Prince ordered a thorough investigation, and many were executed—or dragged away in chains. Fear swept through the palace, and behind closed doors, resentment toward the Crown Prince only grew.
At the same time, the court split into two factions. One group supported the Second Prince’s claim to the throne, led of course by General Li Rong. Their reasoning was simple: at the palace banquet shortly before his death, the late emperor had said he intended to depose the Crown Prince and name a new heir.
But the opposing faction—made up of the surviving members of the former prime minister’s group—offered a strong rebuttal: the late emperor had never clearly stated that the Second Prince would be named crown prince, and no edict deposing the current Crown Prince had ever been issued. Besides, the Crown Prince’s injured leg had fully healed, so naturally, he should inherit the throne.
Day after day, the court was locked in shouting matches—but none of this turmoil touched Fengguang.
Not until suddenly a rumor spread:
The Crown Prince had murdered the late emperor.
The man who released this information was Yifu.
He had betrayed Zhou Xing.
That night, the wind was bitterly cold.
Zhou Xing did not return to the Eastern Palace.
Fengguang waited for him at the palace gates for a long time before a eunuch arrived with a message: the Second Prince had personally led troops to the Meridian Gate and executed the traitor Zhou Xing as he attempted to flee.
Of course she didn’t believe it. Someone as clever as Zhou Xing wouldn’t die so easily.
Not like that.
Not possible.
But then Yang Jie arrived. Behind him was a carriage. Fengguang didn’t ask what—or who—was inside. She didn’t even want to look. She turned toward the palace doors, but a palace maid stepped in front of her, blocking her path.
“Miss Xia,” Yang Jie said. He still preferred to call her that. Perhaps he should call her “sister-in-law,” but he had never once called Zhou Xing “big brother.” After thinking it over, “Miss Xia” remained the most fitting.
Fengguang raised her head and looked at him, her voice hard and cold. “Your Highness, Second Prince.”
Yang Jie paused for a moment. “I came today to bring him home.”
“Oh? Has Your Highness the Second Prince taken to running errands now?”
She didn’t ask who “him” referred to. She wanted to ignore the word entirely.
Yang Jie said quietly, “Miss Xia, why deceive yourself?”
Fengguang said nothing.
He let out a sigh—something he rarely did. A man like Yang Jie, who had seen death his whole life, rarely sighed. After a moment, he continued, “Don’t hate me. He didn’t die by my hand.”
“Zhou Xing can’t be dead…”
“Miss Xia, I know you don’t like me. But today, I need you to let me finish.”
She remained silent.
“Zhou Xing… I’m grateful to him. I admire him. He’s someone I could never hope to surpass.”
And then, slowly, Yang Jie began to recount everything.
A month earlier, an uninvited guest had appeared in the Second Prince’s quarters.
“Second Brother,” the man had said, “I have something to discuss with you.”
It was right in the middle of the most heated part of their power struggle. Chen Hongdou immediately stepped in front of Yang Jie protectively—despite being pregnant, she seemed to forget her condition entirely.
Yang Jie glanced at the man in white in front of him and finally said to Chen Hongdou, “Go on. Wait outside.”
Though worried, she obeyed. With the maids and eunuchs in tow, she left.
Zhou Xing sat down casually. He poured himself a cup of tea, lifted it to smell the fragrance, found it lacking, then set it aside. His voice was calm and unhurried.
“I assume you already know—our father’s death was my doing.”
Loveguy On CFRFGC Chapter 7