Wei Huaigu, now over fifty, had been stripped of his official robes and reduced to a prisoner in plain white. Shackled, he sat behind iron bars opposite Xiao Chiye. During the past few days of interrogation, no one had mistreated him; his hair was still neatly coiled, his face clean—but in just a few days, he seemed to have aged many years, looking thoroughly haggard.
“Last night’s joint hearing concluded,” Wei Huaigu said, seated. “My confession has been submitted. Now we are merely awaiting the judgment. Do you have any further questions?”
“Embezzling treasury silver, reselling military grain, poisoning border generals—these three charges are capital offenses,” Xiao Chiye scrutinized him. “Wei Huaixing has also been stripped of office and imprisoned, awaiting investigation. Your family’s main line has already implicated two court ministers—so, you’re willing to let it end here?”
“This involves Li Bei. Who dares act with partiality? No one will protect me,” Wei Huaigu adjusted his posture as if still seated formally in the Ministry of Revenue courtyard. He looked at Xiao Chiye. “Your father has returned to office; the emperor probably hasn’t slept in days. The Prince of Li Bei is still as stubborn as ever, knows exactly how to discipline people.”
“You should have known, when filling the moldy grain, that it was destined for Li Bei, yet you did it anyway. Back then, there was no protection for you,” Xiao Chiye took a small step closer. “Sending this to my elder brother’s hands was only the first step. Once the grain reached Li Bei, you bribed the officials overseeing the granaries to turn a blind eye—second step. Then you bribed the Northern Cavalry’s cooks to mix this poison into the meals for the border troops—that’s the third step.”
Xiao Chiye paused and cast a sidelong glance at Wei Huaigu.
“This operation required time and effort. If discovered, you could not escape responsibility. Not only that, but the Ministry of Punishments would open a full investigation into your previous grain-smuggling. You are not the sort of man to do this.”
Wei Huaigu did not answer immediately. Instead, he looked toward Shen Zechuan, who had been sitting quietly behind Xiao Chiye. He chuckled softly, gesturing at Shen Zechuan. “Second Young Master has spent six years in Qudu, you’ve improved. When you first arrived, it was all shouts of war—Shen Tongzhi knows that well. That’s why I say Xiao Fangxu is iron-handed, willing to put his son on the blade’s edge. Your growth is thanks to your father.”
Xiao Chiye looked at Wei Huaigu coldly. Shen Zechuan, flipping aside the testimony, rested his hands on the table, neither smiling nor frowning, and spoke calmly:
“Yes, seeing Xiao Ce’an grow this way must irritate you. During Xiande, your son wasted time in pleasure quarters. By the time the Grand Secretariat changed in Tianchen, it was nearly impossible for him to enter officialdom through exams. At your age, no direct heir in the Wei family could carry on the house. You pinned your hopes on marriage alliances—but Fei’s family knew the Wei line was waning. Princess Zhaoyue married into the Pan family. In your post at the Ministry of Revenue, you repeatedly undermined newcomers, fearing replacement. The Wei family seems strong, but in truth, it is about to overflow. With your death, the Wei family is doomed.”
Wei Huaigu touched his shackles. “Family fortunes ebb and flow—this is life’s truth. Rise and fall are predetermined. What is meant for the Wei family will come. I have little regret. Da Zhou has endured for generations; much changes, yet the Eight Great Houses remain. My death ensures the Wei family lives.”
“Do the Eight Great Houses really remain unchanged?” Xiao Chiye asked. “The Xi siblings turned on each other, legitimate and illegitimate heirs died out. Today, the Xi family no longer continues its bloodline; their exclusion from court was inevitable.”
Wei Huaigu merely smiled. “As long as the Xi remain, they will not be ousted. Today, you killed Xi Hongxuan, sought to split the Xi assets, yet you could not abandon the Xi business. They only lost a helmsman—that’s a temporary setback. The matron may find a new match; as long as she wishes to control the Xi’s holdings, her successor must marry in, but the children will still bear the Xi name. This is the continuation of the Xi main line.”
The candle flickered low; night was nearly gone. Outside, silence reigned. Wei Huaigu stood like an elder guiding a philosophical discussion.
“I have a question I always wanted to ask Xiao Fangxu personally, but now the chance is gone, so I’ll ask you instead. Xiao Chiye, your father rose from humble beginnings, endured frontier hardships, overcame adversity, and declared his own domain. You call yourselves breakers of the great houses’ chains. But now, thirty years on, Li Bei and the Xiao family are inseparable. He has a son. You and Xiao Jiming are legitimate heirs. To prevent disputes between heirs, your father would not take a second wife nor concubine. He made you and Xiao Jiming the only choice for the Northern Cavalry. Isn’t that the very ironclad structure the great houses aimed to establish? You are walking the same path as us.”
Xiao Chiye was silent for a moment. “You think this because you don’t understand that some are bound by love. My father refused to remarry or take concubines because he promised my mother lifelong fidelity. The Northern Cavalry is his creation, his third son in importance, even above me or my elder brother. Those who saw us as the sole options of the cavalry were you. In Qudu, the ones trapped were not Li Bei, but Xiao Fangxu and Xiao Jiming. You do not yet understand: my father truly built an iron wall in command, but not for family status—it is for leading the cavalry in endless struggles against Bian Sha. Thirty years ago, it was Xiao Fangxu; ten years ago, Xiao Jiming. Whoever in the future can similarly overcome this iron wall, unafraid of hardship, willing to be forged this way, will be the new commander of the Northern Cavalry.”
“You dress your father’s words in grandeur, yet these years the Xiao family has monopolized Li Bei’s forces,” Wei Huaigu’s eyes hinted at scorn.
“That is merely coincidence—two men with the same surname bore the responsibility in succession,” Xiao Chiye’s eyes gleamed in the dim lamp, reflecting Xiao Fangxu, Xiao Jiming, and the pride hidden beneath armor. “You call my father the alpha wolf. Wolves have no bloodline prejudice. Defeat us, and you lead. Everything the Northern Cavalry shows today is its due. Tomorrow—”
Xiao Chiye’s voice trailed off. Shen Zechuan, however, understood. Tomorrow, upon returning to Li Bei, he too would compete among the pack. Defeat others, and he would become the third alpha. Their pride stems from never fearing struggle—a spirit passed down by Xiao Fangxu to his sons and the cavalry.
“Do you know why, though both guarding the border and controlling forces, the Qi family never faced the Xiao family’s hostility?” Wei Huaigu met Xiao Chiye’s gaze calmly. “Because you are rebellious at heart. Such pride is why Qudu cannot trust Li Bei. Why do great houses endure? Because we act with the flow of power. The Li lineage is Da Zhou’s root. We nurture it, alternate, give and receive. That sustains Da Zhou. The land beneath your feet, the sky above, all maintained by the great houses. Anyone breaking that stability is an enemy. Twenty-six years ago, the Li Crown Prince tried to disrupt the order—naïve. If the great houses fell, the Li would wither. He was destined to die.”
“Hua Siqian can die, Xi Hongxuan can die, I can die. But only the body perishes; the great houses cannot be overthrown by mere human effort. Over decades, only Hai Liangyi threatened the order among cold scholars. Thirty years of patient concealment, now he emerges—but would he dare overturn the world recklessly? Every move cautious, lest brute force bring universal ruin. How long can he survive? Once gone, the system collapses. He cannot succeed,” Wei Huaigu suddenly smiled, gripping the railing as he looked at Shen Zechuan. “Qi Hui, leading the Eastern Palace with force, thought he could succeed—yet he killed the Crown Prince. Geniuses must learn self-reflection; he is the lesson of overzealous predecessors.”
“Seize him!” Shen Zechuan rose abruptly.
Xiao Chiye moved instantly, but it was too late. Wei Huaigu began coughing violently, clutching his abdomen, eyes raised to them as blood dripped from his lips.
“You cannot win… you are doomed… doomed to fail!” he gasped through pain.
Xiao Chiye kicked open the cell, dragging Wei Huaigu and prying open his mouth. Blood spilled; Wei Huaigu, like a candle in the wind, convulsed, limbs stiffening until he lay motionless, eyes staring.
The candle died. Only the mournful wind whispered through the prison.
“The heir!” Xiao Chiye released the body and stepped outside.
The sky was lightening, though thick clouds still loomed. The storm that had just passed threatened to return. Amid the chaotic footsteps, the oppressive air weighed heavily. Xiao Chiye opened the door and saw the terrified girls in the cell. The stench of blood was sharp; the boys were all dead, bodies scattered. Sweat ran down Xiao Chiye’s temples. Gripping the Wolf Fury Blade, he scanned each fearful face.
He and Shen Zechuan had not yet acted—who had killed the heir?
A cold wind blew against Xiao Chiye’s drenched back. Before he could turn, the sound of galloping hooves reached his ears.
Fu Man shouted in panic atop the horse, “My lord! My lord! To the palace at once! The emperor is in danger!”
Xiao Chiye spun sharply. Shen Zechuan grabbed his arm, utterly calm, his gaze making Fu Man tremble. “Danger? Explain clearly.”
Sobbing and sniffling, Fu Man cried, “The emperor is gravely ill. You are urgently summoned to the palace, my lord. There is an important matter entrusted to you!”