Chapter 84: The Tide Has Turned

At that critical moment, a voice suddenly sounded from within the room, stern and tinged with coldness, sending a shiver through everyone’s hearts: “Who dares to behave so recklessly here?”

As the words fell, Ling Zetian, clad in a brilliant yellow dragon robe, stepped out from the chamber. His stride was steady, his eyes sharp and lively; he appeared radiant and vigorous, completely unlike the rumors that portrayed him as feeble and on the verge of death.

The crowd was startled by his appearance, exchanging bewildered glances, uncertain what to do. Even the Empress Dowager was taken aback. She had heard that Ling Zetian had been poisoned by the Flower Burial and assumed he was bedridden, unable to rise, never expecting him to emerge so unaffected.

“Greetings, Your Majesty.” Led by some unseen cue, everyone knelt and bowed in reverence, leaving only the Empress Dowager standing alone, conspicuously out of place.

Ling Zexin, too, was shocked to see Ling Zetian. His hands and feet had been bound, and he was unconscious—how had he suddenly appeared outside Chaoyun Palace, seemingly unharmed? Had the poison ceased its effects?

“Since ancient times, the mandate of heaven is the mandate of the king. I am the emperor, appointed by the late sovereign. If anyone dares to defy heaven, I shall enact heaven’s will,” Ling Zetian declared, his gaze sweeping the kneeling crowd, finally settling on the Empress Dowager. “The inner palace must never interfere with state affairs. I trust the Empress Dowager knows this rule even better than I do. If you insist on acting today, even if you succeed, your actions will lack legitimacy. Moreover, you underestimate me.”

“I have decided to act against you today—what can you do to stop me?” The situation had escalated beyond reconciliation, and the Empress Dowager no longer cared about tearing her mask before Ling Zetian. Now, she intended to settle old scores alongside new. With those words, she moved, leaping toward Ling Zetian, her right palm charged with internal energy, striking fiercely.

Wen Changfeng rushed forward, intending to intercept the blow, but Ling Zetian pushed him aside, accepting the Empress Dowager’s strike himself and retaliating with his own palm.

Realizing something was amiss, the Empress Dowager retreated several steps, disbelief evident on her face as she studied Ling Zetian. She had never fought him before, and he was little more than a youth of twenty. However skilled he might be, martial prowess required internal strength—a quality built over time. At his age, no matter how diligently he trained, such strength could not be amassed overnight. Furthermore, she knew the potency of the Flower Burial poison; once it flared, even the most formidable master would be helpless. Yet now, Ling Zetian’s complexion was rosy, his internal energy vigorous and unceasing, entirely unlike a poisoned man.

Just then, a young eunuch hurried from Changxin Palace to the Empress Dowager’s side, whispering a few words in her ear. Her face betrayed shock; she realized she had fallen into a trap. No longer wishing to continue the fight, she leapt away, vanishing completely from sight.

With the instigator gone, the lesser accomplices broke into chaos, falling to their knees and begging for mercy. Ling Zetian regarded the traitors littering the ground with a cold snort. These people were like grass, swaying toward whichever side seemed stronger. In truth, they were merely here for a meal; such subordinates could never become his trusted confidants.

“Today’s events I shall let pass. If anyone dares to stir up trouble again, I will exterminate their entire clan.” With that, Ling Zetian turned and walked into Chaoyun Palace, ignoring the crowd.

His harsh words were meant to intimidate and also stemmed from genuine anger. Since the founding of the Ling Dynasty and his ascension, more than five centuries had passed. Never in history had a minister dared to force the emperor’s hand, yet now, these ambitious wolves dared such insolence. Clearly, his rule had been too merciful.

After Ling Zetian’s statement, the rabble of traitors, seeing the danger to their futures, scrambled to flee. None wished to catch the emperor’s eye, lest prejudice ruin their careers.

Ling Zexin hurried after Ling Zetian as he entered Chaoyun Palace. Upon opening the door, he saw Ling Zetian collapsed on the floor, a pool of blood spreading beneath him.

He nearly cried out, but remembering the lingering crowd outside, he swallowed his shout of “Elder Brother.”

“Brother, how are you? What are you doing?” He quickly helped Ling Zetian onto the bed. Now, all the vigor from before was gone; Ling Zetian lay as if gravely ill, on the verge of death. His eyes were tightly shut, his face pale as snow. Ling Zexin had never seen him like this and was terrified that Ling Zetian might die.

“Medicine.” Ling Zetian struggled to raise his hand, pointing to a small white porcelain bottle on the nearby table.

Inside was Soul Renewal Pill, a gift from the Medicine Sage, Arno’s master, before Arno descended the mountain. Made from over a hundred rare herbs and refined for days, only three precious pills had been produced. Intended as a lifeline, Arno left them here before departing, fearing Ling Zetian might need them in emergency, allowing him to survive until the Medicine Sage could be summoned.

In the urgent situation just now, Ling Zetian had taken one pill and used all his strength to muster his internal energy, enabling him to walk out as if nothing were wrong. He accepted the Empress Dowager’s strike because he knew she was probing his condition, not attacking with full force. If he avoided it, she would be certain he was injured, and his life would be forfeit, dragging Ling Zexin into disaster as well. The Empress Dowager used only thirty percent of her power, but Ling Zetian exerted himself to the utmost to withstand it. Afterward, he felt as if his organs were shattered, barely able to stand, yet he forced down the blood rising in his throat.

A person poisoned by this venom should never exert internal energy, as it hastens the poison’s onset. He had done so out of rage after witnessing Feng Qiujie’s death, triggering the poison prematurely. This time, he had risked everything to withstand the Empress Dowager’s blow, and now, only a single breath remained.

He was not willing to die just yet. In his dreams, Feng Qiujie had promised to return, and he was waiting for that day, longing to spend happy days together. He could not die now.

After Ling Zexin fed him the medicine, Ling Zetian drifted into deep sleep. Seeing him like this, Ling Zexin realized that the earlier display of vigor had been a façade; in truth, Ling Zetian was dangerously weak, unable even to speak.

Sadness and regret filled his heart. If only he had trained diligently before, his elder brother might not have suffered so. Whether taking the Flower Burial or facing the Empress Dowager today, his brother had protected him, risking his life despite grave injury. Yet he could do nothing in return, only watch in anguish. Even young Arno had ventured out to seek the Medicine Sage, while he remained here, helpless. He felt utterly useless.

All the world’s splendor paled before the truest feelings.

In that instant, Ling Zexin suddenly understood much. He remembered how he used to frequent pleasure houses, embracing beauties beneath moonlit blossoms, carousing with his friends. He thought himself carefree, but realized now he was merely a fool, valued only for his wealth and status, surrounded by those who sought free food and drink. He had imagined himself important.

If he were not a prince, if he lacked Ling Zetian as his emperor brother, what would he be in others’ eyes? He used to disregard others’ opinions, but now he understood he was no longer the carefree child cherished by his father and brother. Thinking back on others’ judgments, he felt insulted. He no longer wished to be disgraced, to be seen as living off his brother, accused of incompetence, or looked down upon.

After vanishing from Chaoyun Palace, the Empress Dowager knew she could no longer remain in the imperial palace. She had no intention of returning to Changxin Palace, and left the palace entirely. The young eunuch had whispered that Ling Zetian had secretly summoned the princes stationed outside the capital; now, large forces were camped beyond the city. She understood that the twenty thousand troops remaining in the capital were no match for those armies. In her heart, she knew the tide had turned; with Kimura Xinghen dead, she had no hope left. Now, she wished only to return to her homeland alone. She had come to the Ling Dynasty as a teenager, seeking to restore her country, but after many years, her dream remained unfulfilled. Now, she hoped only to spill her last drop of blood upon the land she loved. Though her parents and siblings were gone, her homeland’s people remained her kin. She no longer wished to wander in a foreign land, fearing she might die here and never return home.