Xie Yi had Xie Pingyue’s body sent back to the capital.
The court had originally been confident — after all, Xie Pingyue was a battle-hardened grand general. Surely dealing with an inexperienced upstart like Xie Yi would be effortless.
And if all else failed, Xie Pingyue was Xie Yi’s own father — surely, whatever else Xie Yi did, he wouldn’t go so far as to show no mercy at all to his own flesh and blood.
But who could have predicted that Xie Pingyue wouldn’t even last a single day against Xie Yi.
And that Xie Yi himself would be cold and ruthless enough to strike down his own father without hesitation.
The news shook the court and the public alike.
But aside from a handful of old scholars condemning Xie Yi for patricide, far more people were simply terrified — too frightened even to discuss it, let alone criticize him.
The mood within the palace grew even darker.
The Emperor, already gravely ill, was so shaken by the news that he nearly stopped breathing entirely.
Though by now, he had more breaths going out than coming in anyway.
Power at court had now fully fallen into the hands of Crown Prince Zhao Jinghuan. Everything he had once longed for was finally within his grasp — and yet he felt no joy in it.
After all, Xie Yi’s army sat at Nanfeng City, watching like a predator. The power now in his hands was nothing more than a death sentence waiting to be carried out.
The entire court, top to bottom, had been thoroughly terrified by Xie Yi. All anyone wanted now was to sue for peace — no one had the stomach for resistance.
Just then, the Crown Prince heard footsteps at the door and snapped irritably, “Didn’t I say I wasn’t to be disturbed?”
He looked up to see Chief Steward Ge Yan of the Eastern Palace being led in by an academician.
“Minister Ge?” The Crown Prince paused for a moment, then his face lit with sudden delight. “Is everything ready?”
Ge Yan remained cautious, waiting until the academician who had led him in had left before lowering his voice. “Everything is prepared. Tomorrow night, at the Hour of the Pig, we leave through Changhua Gate. I’ve also already sent word to the Empress and the Crown Princess…”
“Good!” The Crown Prince let out a long breath.
If he had any other choice, he wouldn’t want to flee either.
But he knew that the moment peace was made, whatever happened to everyone else, he, the Crown Prince, would almost certainly be the one whose life was forfeit.
And with the majority at court now firmly in the peace camp, even if the Crown Prince wanted to keep fighting, there was nothing he could do about it.
Ever since he had killed the Prince of Qi, his father the Emperor had flown into a rage, growing suspicious that he harbored disloyal intentions. Not only had he stripped him of the Training and Defense Office, he had also increased the ranks of the Crimson Halberd Guard, and even replaced the commander of the City Patrol Garrison with one of his own men.
Now that Xie Pingyue had died and the capital was in turmoil, the Crown Prince had almost no military force of his own to draw on.
So it occurred to him that his best option was to flee the capital and head north — his uncle was stationed at Changzhou, and once there, he could borrow his uncle’s troops to launch a counterattack and reclaim the capital.
As Crown Prince, every move he made drew attention, so he had no choice but to leave the actual arrangements to Ge Yan.
Ge Yan, as Chief Steward of the Eastern Palace, shared his fate completely with the Crown Prince — rising or falling together. He was someone who would never betray him.
The two of them went over the plan in careful detail once more.
Neither of them noticed that the academician who had originally led Ge Yan in had quietly slipped away at some point.
Meanwhile, in Nanfeng City.
Everyone there was also deep in discussion.
The court had already signaled its intent to seek peace talks.
Some among them argued that while morale in the army was high, they had real difficulties of their own. With the front lines stretched ever longer, the risks involved in transporting supplies kept rising. Even with Jiangnan and Qingzhou as a backbone, the pressure was significant. And after so long campaigning, the troops were worn thin and the horses exhausted — the situation was, if anything, precarious.
If they could enter the capital through negotiation instead of battle, that would be the better outcome for everyone.
Shen Xian said, “The capital is, after all, the seat of the nation — tall walls, deep moats, abundant grain reserves within. If it truly came to a fight, that would be no small burden for us.”
“Shen Xian, what exactly are you implying? Talking up the enemy and tearing down our own side?” one general cut in, unable to hold back. “That nest of parasites in the capital is no match for my lord. We can march in with full legitimacy — why bother negotiating that pointless peace with them and only feed their appetite further!”
Luo Zhitang hurried to smooth things over. “The capital is willing to honor my lord as Prince Regent, to oversee the affairs of state. That’s a sincere enough offer. With my lord’s own elite forces and skilled generals at his side, they wouldn’t dare try anything underhanded.”
The other man scoffed. “Master Luo oversees both Qingzhou and Jiangnan — of course he looks down on something as trivial as battlefield merit…”
The two sides went back and forth without resolution. Xie Yi, seated at the head of the room, simply kept his eyes closed in thought, saying nothing.
Until someone in the crowd asked, “Why has Young Master Lin been silent this whole time?”
Everyone fell suddenly quiet. Even Xie Yi opened his eyes and looked toward Lin Zhiji, sitting in the corner.
There was no need to even mention Shen Xian and the others — every one of these generals had been wounded on the battlefield at some point, had been treated in the field hospital that Lin Zhiji had personally established. Along their entire campaign, they had fought several brutal battles; if not for Lin Zhiji leading the medical efforts, the death toll would have been far higher.
Word had also since spread that the new-style military rations had actually originated from Young Master Lin’s own hand, and that he had simply attributed the credit to Liu Muzhi out of his naturally low-key nature.
And beyond all that, his close relationship with my lord meant his words carried weight that everyone could well imagine.
Lin Zhiji’s eyelashes fluttered slightly. He lifted his head.
These past few days he had been turning over, again and again, how to “reasonably” complete Main Quest 7 — request the host to prevent the villain from becoming Prince Regent.
In the original novel, Xie Yi had used Liu Muzhi as a puppet, pushed him onto the throne, and made himself the all-powerful Prince Regent who held the world in his hand.
But now, without Liu Muzhi in that role, the puppet had become some member of the imperial clan instead.
The momentum of the plot didn’t shift just because the cast had changed.
And yet the task system kept aiming itself squarely at Xie Yi regardless.
Even someone as easygoing as Lin Zhiji found himself laughing in pure exasperation at this point.
A streak of rebellion he had never felt before began to rise in him.
So when someone asked, “Young Master Lin, in your view, should this battle for the capital go forward, or not?”
Lin Zhiji said firmly: “Of course it should go forward.”
Shen Xian and the others were stunned. They all knew Lin Zhiji had a soft heart, and had assumed he would be unable to stomach the bloodshed and would push for peace talks instead — they hadn’t expected him to be in the war camp at all.
The generals, on the other hand, lit up with excitement and chimed in one after another: “Young Master Lin is exactly right!”
Xie Yi watched him, then gave a soft laugh, raised a hand to quiet the room, and asked, “Why?”
Lin Zhiji was silent a moment, then looked at him. “A war that founds a new dynasty cannot be settled through negotiation.”
The words landed like a stone dropped into still water.
The room, which had just gone quiet, erupted again instantly.
Even Xie Yi’s expression — composed at all times without exception — shifted. He looked at Lin Zhiji, his eyes complicated. “Do you understand what you’re saying?”
Lin Zhiji nodded. “I do.”
His gaze swept across the room and finally settled on Xie Yi’s face. “Why settle for Prince Regent? Why not be Emperor instead?”
If the task system wouldn’t allow Xie Yi to become Prince Regent, then he would simply become Emperor outright.
Xie Yi looked at him without blinking.
He had always assumed that Lin Zhiji’s task was tied to Liu Muzhi — that no matter how deep their feelings ran for each other, everything Lin Zhiji had done had ultimately been for Liu Muzhi’s sake.
But now, Lin Zhiji was standing firmly on his side.
After Lin Zhiji finished speaking, he didn’t sense any response at all from the task system.
The last great weight pressing on his chest finally lifted. His mood brightened, and a faint smile crept onto his face.
Something shifted in Xie Yi’s expression. He had everyone else leave the room.
Soon, only the two of them remained.
“Come here.” Xie Yi said.
Lin Zhiji walked over, and Xie Yi took his hand in his own.
Xie Yi’s palm was burning hot. That warmth traveled along the back of Lin Zhiji’s hand, all the way to somewhere deep inside his chest.
Neither of them spoke for a while.
Some time later, Xie Yi finally asked, “You want me to be Emperor?”
His gaze stayed fixed on Lin Zhiji, unwilling to miss the slightest flicker of his expression.
He wanted to know — whether, for Lin Zhiji, the decision had truly been made: setting aside Liu Muzhi, setting aside the task, standing only with him.
Lin Zhiji opened his mouth.
According to the task system’s projected outcomes, after Xie Yi installed Liu Muzhi as the puppet emperor and became Prince Regent, seizing absolute power, he hadn’t walked the quiet path of a villain content to be a stepping stone for the protagonist. Instead, he had fought against it relentlessly — and when that resistance ultimately failed, he had been driven, in the end, down the path of destroying the world entirely.
From the very start, he had never been someone who could be bound by so-called “fate.”
Especially not once he learned the full truth.
That spirit of defiance in him would only grow fiercer from here.
A bitter ache rose in Lin Zhiji’s chest. He asked quietly, “Then — do you want to be Emperor?”
“Of course.” Xie Yi admitted it without any hesitation, his grip on Lin Zhiji’s hand tightening, his gaze burning. “When the time comes, I want you to ascend the throne with me.”
Lin Zhiji stared at him, frozen.
In that instant, he suddenly wanted to ask — if you had to choose between the throne and me, which would you choose?
But in the end, he said nothing.
Whether out of fear or simple reluctance, he didn’t want to force Xie Yi into making that kind of choice.
He simply wrapped his arms gently around Xie Yi. “I’ll help you.”