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ITVCFITB CHAPTER 110
Chapter 110 – The Emperor Has Passed Away
The Heavenly Sage Emperor collapsed back onto his bed once more and this time, it seemed unlikely he would ever return to court.
His illness had long been foretold, so few felt true sorrow. Men like the Fourth Prince had been anticipating this day for years. In his manor, he couldn’t hide the gleam in his eyes as he looked toward the palace, already convinced the throne was within his grasp.
He recalled the edict he’d seen hidden in the dark chamber, the one bearing his name. Father truly had sharp judgment.
Had the Emperor told him openly from the beginning, he wouldn’t have needed to waste time and risk poisoning him. Now, he regretted the excess, but what was done was done. The Emperor had lost nothing more than a month of life, just as the physicians predicted.
His greater worry had been Prince Two and Shen Mingyun. But within days, both returned alive, relieving him, though it was a pity that Prince Two’s elite troops had been annihilated.
They slipped quietly into the capital. Back in the Fourth Prince’s residence, Shen Mingyun grew subdued and withdrawn, while the Fourth busied himself waiting for the Emperor’s death and his own ascension. He barely noticed Shen’s mood, telling Prince Two simply to stay inside the manor.
One afternoon, after returning from court, he stumbled on an odd sight: Shen Mingyun and Prince Two, seated in the pavilion, listening to music together, peacefully.
What?
The Fourth frowned. Weren’t they supposed to be sworn enemies?
Seeing Shen Mingyun not chasing after Prince Two with furious outbursts felt…unsettling. What exactly had happened during those three days in hiding? Surely they hadn’t “lost their way” by accident. Shen had his tricks, and Prince Two wasn’t incompetent. Yet the excuse of panic and confusion was the only explanation he could swallow.
That evening, the strangeness only grew. The three of them dined together. The table brimmed with dishes he and Prince Two preferred, not Shen’s favorites. It made him uneasy. Was Shen Mingyun giving up on him? Or scheming something else?
Shen’s excuse was simple enough, gratitude to Prince Two for “taking care of him.” Ready-made, easy to accept. So the Fourth held his tongue.
The meal was harmonious, almost disturbingly so. Like nothing had ever gone wrong.
Meanwhile, in the Third Prince’s residence, Li Mingjin and Luo Shuyu had other worries.
After supper, Li Mingjin carried their increasingly heavy son in the courtyard, played with him until he tired, then handed him off for his bath. Sitting beside Luo Shuyu, his tone turned serious:
“Father may only have a few days left.”
Luo Shuyu paused in peeling an apple. “The physicians have given their final word?”
Li Mingjin nodded. “This time, it’s certain.”
Though Luo Shuyu had little affection for the Emperor, watching an old man’s life fade stirred a quiet sigh in him. Their son was already eight months old, longer than either of them had lived in their past life. The Emperor had lasted even beyond expectation.
His long decline had drained many, yet it had also created openings that Li Mingjin had quietly used to further his cause.
The summer night breeze was mild. They spoke softly to each other until sleep claimed them.
The next morning, during court, the Emperor still lucid, decreed both the Third and Fourth Princes to oversee ministries, making clear they were his final candidates.
That meant every faction split itself along two lines. Even the smallest matters became battlegrounds.
Li Mingjin often wore an air of impatience, while the Fourth Prince exuded smug certainty. Over time, many assumed the Fourth would be the winner. The Third’s faction grew quieter.
Today’s debate was over tax increases. The Fourth, with the Ministry of Revenue’s support, pushed hard.
“The treasury will run dry,” the Fourth said smoothly. “Without more revenue, how will the frontier armies be paid?”
Li Mingjin, who had sat in silence, finally spoke. “I oppose raising taxes.”
He flicked the ledgers back toward the Minister of Revenue. “Do these numbers look right to you? Gu City contributes only this pitiful sum each year? If these are the reports you’ve been signing off on, I’ll investigate personally.”
The Minister paled under his glare. “T-this humble official will recheck immediately…”
Li Mingjin’s voice turned cutting. “Three days. Fail, and I’ll bring my men to audit myself.”
Cold sweat dampened the minister’s back. This wasn’t the work of his own hand, surely the fault of careless subordinates. But his reputation was already ruined.
The debate collapsed.
The Fourth Prince masked his frustration, but inwardly he fumed. So what? Once he ascended, tax increases would pass regardless. Silver was the foundation of all imperial ambition, especially the grand tomb he dreamed of building, one that would awe generations.
Let his brother make noise. Soon, all would bow.
Prime Minister Zuo, however, took note. The contrast was glaring: Li Mingjin sharp, incisive; the Fourth, careless, arrogant. Details decided fates. And lately, the Fourth seemed far too inflated.
Had he somehow learned that the Emperor’s edict named him?
Zuo left with a sigh. The throne required gravitas. The Fourth looked less and less like an emperor.
Whispers spread in private gatherings at night. Some families schemed to advance by betting on the right heir; others clung to neutrality, desperate not to be destroyed as cannon fodder in the struggle.
Every move reached Li Mingjin’s network. Even the fact that Prince Two now hid inside the Fourth’s manor. The temptation to strike was strong but premature. Let them preen a little longer.
As for the Fourth’s repeated attempts to infiltrate the Third’s residence? All had failed. Li Mingjin’s security was airtight.
The Fourth grew restless. He questioned physicians endlessly, only to be fooled again and again by the Emperor’s sudden bursts of strength. He cursed his missed chance at snatching the edict.
The only option left: once he wore the crown, surround the Third’s residence with troops and wipe them out, parents, child, all. The thought simmered in his eyes.
That morning, Luo Shuyu went about routine: breakfast, feeding baby Chongchong his porridge. The little one was content, not fussy about his father’s absence. Evening was always reunion time.
But not today.
Because Li Mingjin was already moving within the storm.
A secret guard arrived, bearing the message:
The Emperor is dead.
Luo Shuyu had expected it, but his heart tightened. “Make the preparations,” he ordered. “The empire mourns.”
For the first time, he would witness the death of an emperor.
The shadow guard bowed low. “The Prince says danger is high. Please, Master, remain within the residence with the young heir.”
“What of him? What of the palace? What of Consort Mei and Noble Consort Wei?”
“The Fourth has the palace locked down tight,” the guard reported. “But both consorts are unharmed.”
“And him?” Luo Shuyu pressed, voice sharp.
The guard faltered, dropped to his knees. “Forgive me! His Highness…he—”
Author’s Note
Third Prince: Wife, don’t panic. I’ll stiffen right up!
Luo Shuyu: …
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