The towering golden pillars cast long shadows over the crimson floor, carved dragons coiling on roofs, the silence lingered in Imperial court. The scent of incense lingered in the air as ministers stood lined in two rows, some with purple, some blue, some red ceremonial robes stood according to their ranks.

Wu Yingyue stood quietly at the side, robed in ceremonial red and gold. His face pale, his hands tucked into his sleeves to hide the faint trembling. The night's frost seems to sweep into his bones. The bruises on his knees throbbed with every breath, but he still stood there like tall withered pine.

The Emperor entered flanked by two silent eunuchs, his dragon robe sweeping over the steps. His expression was unreadable, yet no one dared lift their head.

"Long Live the emperor"

Echoed throughout the hall as everyone kneel to the throne.

The emperor did not sit immediately. He stood before his throne at the head of the hall, eyes scanning the gathered ministers, heavy with unseen judgment.

"You may rise," he said finally.

As if getting the cue all ministers started to present their memorials in order. The Emperor dismissed them casually, not taking them seriously. Officials used to it eventually stay quiet, deciding to just submit their memorials.

Just when everyone thought court would end in ease, a voice broke through rustling silence.

"Your Majesty," the Minister of labour stepped forward and bowed deeply. "This year's northern border has been struck by storm and famine both. Roads remain unfinished. People are hungry. If Your Majesty would send a royal overseer to these afflicted regions, it would encourage the people and stabilize the land."

The court again fell in silence, this time suffocating, as a knife hung over neck. Many took hidden glances at the Emperor and Crown Prince.

Soon after, the Minister of War chimed in, "Indeed, and with rebellion threatening to stir among the border militias, it is imperative that someone of noble standing, with command and virtue, be sent to show imperial resolve. I humbly submit that His Highness, the Crown Prince, takes up this heavy responsibility."

Everyone took a sharp breath.

It was no secret that the Minister of War harbored no goodwill toward the Crown Prince. But until now, he had never confronted him so openly because of Duke Zhou.

The hall stirred faintly with restrained murmurs and sleeves shifting. Everyone collectively thought,

'It seems the rumors were true, the Crown Prince has truly fallen from grace.'

Though Zhou Wangshu remained imprisoned, his title had not been revoked. That single detail had been enough to keep many mouths shut and hands clean. If the Duke returned to power, those who slighted him or the Crown Prince would pay dearly.

But now?

Now, even the Minister of War who had always been in Zhou's camp spoke as though he had nothing left to lose.

To push the Crown Prince into the heart of snowstorms and famine-stricken lands... was no request. It was a calculated blow.

It meant only one thing to the court:

The Crown Prince was alone and powerless now.

Wu YingYue who was observing everything can already guess everyone's little thought.

This wasn't simply a move against him. It was a statement.

What intrigued him wasn't that they asked for his departure.

It was who had spoken.

The Minister of War yet hated by the Emperor. The only reason he hadn't been stripped of rank or life was because he had once been the Emperor's teacher. To act against him would stain the Emperor's name with unfilial disgrace.

So this was certainly not the Emperor's plan.

So then... under whose order was he acting?

Had Wu Ziming returned to change something?

As if everything was coming together, Wu Yingyue had a bold guess, but he did not change his expression.

From the water prison... to the missing tiger tally... to now standing here, accused in plain sight—

It was all a trap.

But not one meant to catch him.

No, they wanted him to walk right into it.

'Impressive,' Wu Yingyue thought silently, the corners of his mouth almost twitching upward.

If this was all an act he want to see the end of it, beside...

Wu Yingyue looked at palace doors.

He also wants to go outside one last time.

Wu Yingyue's hands clenched in his sleeves.

Then a third voice joined the chorus,

It was the Grand Secretary.

"The Second Prince—may he rest in peace—once took this duty upon himself and calmed the famine of the western provinces. The people remember this. His legacy remains. Would it not be... fitting, for His Highness the Crown Prince to continue that noble work?"

The unspoken message was sharp as a blade: Should the Crown Prince not follow the example of his brother or be seen as unworthy in comparison?

Wu Yingyue raised his head slowly, eyes locking briefly with the Emperor's.

Just as everyone in court was thinking about which side to choose, Emperor spoke,

"Fine," he said, voice neither warm nor cold, just that familiar weight of imperial finality. "As for a companion—once Duke Zhou recovers, take him with you. He will guard you."

The words landed like a sword sheathed in silk.

A few ministers glanced at each other. Some lowered their heads even more.

On the surface, it sounded like an act of generosity. A token of trust. Letting the Crown Prince take the Duke of Zhou imprisoned under suspicion as his companion?

A joke.

A leash.

Wu Yingyue lowered his gaze again, lips curling slightly in a sneer.

So that was it.

He could already see through the Emperor's thoughts.

He thought he was being clever.

He thought pairing the fallen Crown Prince and disgraced Duke would placate the court and intimidate the restless.

He believed foolishly that this defiance, this boldness from his ministers, was just another reflection of his golden youth, when every move he made was met with roaring approval and blind loyalty.

How ridiculous.

The Emperor was old now. Blind in power. Surrounded by sycophants, and convinced the court was still in his palm.

Utterly foolish.

In truth, the court was already splitting, like cracked ice beneath calm water.

And the Emperor was too proud to see it.

No matter how sharp a sword is, Wu Yingyue thought coldly, if left untouched, it will rust.

Wu Yingyue remained silent for a moment longer than necessary, as though the weight of the request was pressing down on him.

His brows furrowed slightly. The pause wasn't long but long enough to be noticed.

He glanced sideways, just briefly, toward the Minister of War. Then lowered his eyes again.

"...Your Majesty's will..." he said at last, voice quiet, carrying a slight edge of restraint, "this son... will obey."

The hesitation was subtle. But perfect.

Enough to show reluctance.

Enough to convince the watching court that he was swallowing something bitter for the sake of duty.

The Emperor nodded, satisfied.

Some ministers exchanged glances. Some with pity. Some with smug amusement. All convinced that the Crown Prince had been cornered.