Chapter 574: Chapter-574
"Well, Prime Minister?" the Emperor asked, his voice laced with heavy, malicious amusement. "Does the Southern Scholar live up to his ancient reputation? Does his pen match the Vanguard’s sword?"
The Prime Minister was forced to step forward. He bowed his head so low that no one could see the absolute, murderous hatred burning in his eyes. His political ambush had backfired so catastrophically that it had elevated Samuel to the status of a literary god right in front of the throne.
"It is... a masterpiece, Your Majesty," the Prime Minister forced the words through gritted teeth, tasting blood in his mouth. "Young Master Samuel’s brilliance is... truly unmatched."
"Indeed it is!" the Emperor declared. He waved his hand toward the head eunuch. "Reward the Top Scholar! Bring him a ceremonial jade brush from the royal treasury, and a thousand taels of silver! The Vanguard has truly claimed the entire night!"
Samuel bowed deeply, the humble, gentle smile returning to his face as if the cold, terrifying predator from seconds ago had never existed. "I thank Your Majesty for his boundless generosity. I am merely a humble scholar doing his best."
While the court was busy reeling from Samuel’s devastating performance, sitting quietly in the front row, the Prime Minister’s Third Wife watched the entire exchange with wide, trembling eyes.
She looked at the tall, imposing figure of Samuel, and then her eyes drifted back to Heena, who was calmly sipping her wine as if her husband hadn’t just verbally executed the entire government.
The Third Wife slowly lowered her hands to her lap. Hidden completely beneath the heavy, dark blue silk of her wide sleeves, her small fingers traced the intricate carvings of the small wooden box she had hidden away. The Vanguard medicine.
For the last three years, she had believed that the Prime Minister was an invincible god. She had believed that his power in the capital was absolute, and that her only purpose in life was to suffer his cruelties in silence until her body finally gave out.
But tonight, sitting in the golden light of the Great Hall, she had watched the invincible Prime Minister fail. She had watched the Vanguard Madam drop a priceless medicine to save her life without asking for anything in return. She had watched a frail female general in a story refuse to die. And now, she had watched the Prime Minister get completely humiliated by a man he thought was a fool.
The Prime Minister was not a god. He was just a man. And men could bleed.
The Third Wife gripped the small wooden box so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She closed her eyes, the dull, agonizing ache in her ribs reminding her of the beatings, the poison, and the terror.
When she opened her eyes again, the vacant, doll-like deadness was gone entirely. A small, microscopic spark of genuine, terrifying rebellion ignited in her dark pupils. She didn’t know how, and she didn’t know when, but she made a silent vow to the heavens. She was not going to die in the Prime Minister’s manor. She was going to survive.
The banquet dragged on for another hour, but the spirit of the civil court was completely broken. No one dared to challenge the Vanguard again. The scholars kept to themselves, whispering frantically about Samuel’s poem, trying to dissect the complex metaphors.
Finally, as the moon reached its peak in the night sky, the Emperor stood from his throne, signaling the end of the festivities.
"The night has been long and full of magnificent surprises," the Emperor announced. "You are all dismissed. May the heavens continue to bless the Great Empire."
The entire court dropped to their knees, pressing their foreheads to the jade floor one final time.
"Long live the Emperor!" they chanted in unison.
As the royal procession exited through the side doors, the chaotic scramble to leave began. The civil officials practically ran for the exits, desperate to escape the suffocating presence of the Vanguard family.
Heena stood up slowly, stretching her neck slightly. A palace maid hurriedly brought over her heavy, fur-lined black cloak. Heena swung it over her shoulders, the thick fur protecting her from the sudden chill of the late-night air.
Samuel stood beside her, his hands tucked into his sleeves, completely unbothered by the terrified glances the passing scholars were shooting his way.
"Are you ready to go home, Wife?" Samuel asked, his voice returning to its normal, smooth cadence.
Heena looked at him, her sharp eyes studying his face for a long second. "You certainly enjoyed yourself tonight, didn’t you?"
Samuel smiled—a genuine, dark curve of his lips. "I told you. I only give the people exactly what they want. They wanted a scholar, so I gave them a scholar."
Heena just shook her head, turning around and walking toward the grand red doors of the Great Hall. Samuel followed closely behind, the two of them walking side-by-side like two apex predators leaving a den of slaughtered sheep.
The cool night air of the capital was a massive relief after the suffocating heat and incense of the Great Hall. The courtyard was a chaotic mess of carriages, shouting servants, and officials trying to navigate their way out of the Forbidden Inner City.
The Vanguard carriages were already waiting at the bottom of the jade steps. The grandfather had already boarded the first carriage, looking entirely exhausted but highly amused by the night’s events.
Heena and Samuel stepped into the second, heavily armored carriage. The heavy wooden doors clicked shut, plunging them into the familiar, dim privacy of the transport. As the carriage lurched forward, the wheels clattering loudly against the cobblestones, the exhaustion of the long night finally settled over them.
Heena leaned her head back against the velvet cushions, closing her eyes.
"You know," Samuel said softly, breaking the silence of the dark carriage. "You completely ruined my plan tonight with that cup."
Heena kept her eyes closed, completely unfazed by his accusation. "Your plan was sloppy. If you had let the Prime Minister accuse us of poisoning the Emperor, and the Emperor had played along just to test our loyalty, the Vanguard would have been caught in an imperial crossfire. We would have lost the initiative."
Samuel didn’t argue. He leaned back against his own cushion, turning his head to look at her profile illuminated by the faint moonlight filtering through the carriage window.
"You saw something I didn’t," Samuel stated, it wasn’t a question.
"The Emperor smiled," Heena replied flatly, finally opening her eyes to look at him. "He knew exactly what was in that cup. He was waiting for it."
Samuel’s eyes narrowed slightly as his brilliant mind instantly processed the terrifying implications of that single sentence. If the Emperor knew about the poison, then the Prime Minister’s absolute power in the court was nothing more than an illusion allowed by the throne. The Emperor was playing a much deeper, much more dangerous game.
"Interesting," Samuel murmured, a slow, dangerous thrill curling in his chest. The capital was far more complicated than he had originally anticipated.
Heena reached into her robes and pulled out the small, ornate bag containing the Emperor’s reward—ten thousand taels of gold in imperial bank notes. She tossed the heavy pouch onto Samuel’s lap.
Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!
Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter