After Breaking Free From The System's Control - Chapter 4

Xiao Li stepped out of the bedchamber.

The cool night wind struck him full in the face, dispersing the heavy, medicinal air he had carried out from inside the hall.

But it could not dispel the gloom gathered between his brows.

He did not leave immediately.

Instead, he stopped beneath the crabapple tree in the courtyard outside, its branches laden with blossoms in full bloom.

Moonlight streamed down like a ribbon of pale silk, bathing the flowering tree until it resembled a hazy sculpture carved from white jade.

When the night breeze stirred, petals fell with a soft rustle, landing upon his black robes and his dust-stained shoulders.

Xiao Li raised his head and looked toward the tightly shut window of the imperial bedchamber.

The candlelight filtering through was dim and warm, a cruel contrast to the pale, icy aura of the person lying within.

What exactly had happened?

How had three years transformed a young emperor into the person he was now?

What sort of “illness” could leave even the Imperial Medical Bureau utterly helpless?

And then there was the abrupt appointment of a Regent…

Countless questions circled through Xiao Li’s mind, weaving themselves into a tangled and deeply unsettling web.

Just then, faint whispers drifted from the shadows around the corner of a nearby hall.

Two young eunuchs assigned to nighttime cleaning were idling there, gossiping in low voices. Perhaps they believed the place secluded enough that no one would notice them.

“Have you heard? The one inside probably won’t survive the spring…” one of them said in a shrill voice tinged with malicious delight.

“Shh! Keep your voice down! Do you have a death wish?” the other warned nervously.

“What’s there to be afraid of? Everyone in the palace knows. He has the face of someone destined to die young! Sickly all day long, practically soaked in medicine. At this rate, the empire the Late Emperor built will probably—”

He never finished the sentence.

A figure in black had already appeared before them like a ghost.

There was no expression on Xiao Li’s face.

He was colder than the most bitter ice and snow of the northern frontier.

He did not even give the two terrified eunuchs a chance to beg for mercy or explain themselves.

Clang—

A clear sword cry split the silence of the night.

The sword at Xiao Li’s waist left its sheath. Moonlight flashed across the blade in an icy arc, so fast that only an afterimage remained.

In the next instant, a thin line of blood appeared across both eunuchs’ throats.

Their terrified expressions froze on their faces.

Their eyes remained wide open, as though they had not yet understood what had happened before their breathing stopped and their bodies collapsed limply to the ground.

Blood slowly seeped from their necks, staining the cold stone pavement beneath them.

Under the moonlight, it took on a dark and ominous hue.

Xiao Li calmly sheathed his sword in one smooth motion, then brushed the fallen petals from his robes.

He did not spare the two still-warm corpses another glance.

Only four words, cold enough to take physical form, lingered in the flower-scented night breeze.

“Utterly treasonous.”

They dared curse Jin Tang.

Death.

Xiao Li stood beneath the crabapple tree, his black-clad figure nearly blending into the darkness.

Inside the hall lay the frail young emperor.

Outside were the palace servants he had just executed for speaking disrespectfully of their sovereign.

His gaze returned to the closed doors of the bedchamber.

Emotions darker and heavier than the night itself surged in the depths of his eyes.

Now that he had accepted the responsibility of Regent, whether for public duty or private feeling, whether by affection or by honor, he would never again allow anyone to harm Jin Tang in the slightest.

The night wind swept past, scattering crabapple blossoms in a brilliant shower.

Xiao Li remained beneath the tree as the breeze carried the lingering scent of blood, mingling strangely with the delicate fragrance of flowers clinging to his robes.

His face remained expressionless.

Only the darkness within his eyes had deepened beyond even that of the inner palace at night.

He did not summon the patrolling guards.

Instead, he turned and walked directly toward the side chamber where Wang Fugui usually kept watch.

Wang Fugui had indeed not yet retired for the night.

He was advanced in age and already slept lightly. With Jin Tang ill, he had been even more anxious than usual.

At that moment, he sat beneath the dim light of an oil lamp, carefully checking the list of medicinal ingredients that the Imperial Pharmacy was scheduled to present the following day.

When he heard steady footsteps outside, he raised his head warily.

Seeing that it was Xiao Li returning, surprise flickered through his eyes, and he immediately rose.

“Your Highness?”

Wang Fugui bowed.

His keen gaze instantly noticed the faint dark stain near the hem of Xiao Li’s robes, as well as the trace of blood in the air, barely concealed beneath the fragrance of flowers.

His heart tightened slightly.

Xiao Li did not waste words.

“Just now, outside His Majesty’s bedchamber, I dealt with two creatures who did not understand the rules.”

Wang Fugui’s heart sank sharply.

Xiao Li continued, “Their tongues were too long. They spoke words of grave treason. The bodies are lying in the shadows of the southeastern corner. I will trouble Chief Steward Wang to have them cleaned up.”

He did not repeat the filthy remarks about Jin Tang being destined to die young.

But Wang Fugui had spent decades within the palace. How could he fail to guess?

What else but something concerning His Majesty could have caused Prince Xuan, newly returned to the capital, to draw his sword and kill with his own hands?

The elderly face Wang Fugui usually wore before Jin Tang—always respectful and full of concern—darkened instantly.

The wrinkles across it deepened like knife cuts.

The cloudiness of an old servant vanished from his eyes, replaced by a flash of ruthlessness.

His stooped back straightened slightly, and an oppressive air born from years of controlling the inner palace settled around him.

“Your Highness may rest assured,” Wang Fugui said, his voice turning low and hard. “This old servant understands. The filth in this palace must be swept away from time to time, lest it offend His Majesty’s ears and stain the grounds.”

Wang Fugui raised his eyes to Xiao Li.

There was a tacit, merciless understanding in his gaze.

“His Majesty is merciful. There are certain things he should not know, and cannot be allowed to know. So long as this old servant still draws breath, no petty vermin will ever be permitted to disturb His Majesty’s peace within these palace walls.”

Xiao Li looked at the Wang Fugui before him, who seemed entirely different from the man inside the bedchamber, and felt no surprise.

He knew very well that anyone capable of holding the position of Chief Steward in this man-eating palace and serving two successive emperors could never truly be nothing more than an honest old man who only knew how to weep.

His devotion as Jin Tang’s loyal servant was genuine.

But so were the ruthless methods with which he controlled the palace’s darker side.

With Wang Fugui overseeing the inner palace, Xiao Li would be spared many unnecessary difficulties.

More importantly, the old steward could preserve a relatively peaceful sanctuary for the ailing Jin Tang.

“I leave it to you, Chief Steward Wang.”

Xiao Li inclined his head slightly.

The gesture meant he was entrusting the entire matter to him.

Wang Fugui said nothing further.

He bowed deeply, then turned and disappeared swiftly and silently into the darkness outside the hall to dispose of the two corpses that had served as a warning to him.

His back was bent with age, yet his steps were resolute.

His Majesty was gravely ill, and now every manner of monster and demon dared crawl out of hiding?

It was indeed time to thoroughly cleanse the inner palace.

Xiao Li watched him leave, then remained where he stood for another moment.

The night deepened.

The moonlight was cold and clear, while the shadows of the crabapple branches swayed across the ground like shifting strokes of ink.

At last, he turned and headed toward the palace gates.

His steps were steady, and his black-clad figure cast a long shadow across the deserted palace road.

When he passed the crabapple tree, Xiao Li could not help stopping once more.

He looked back at the bedchamber, where dim yellow candlelight still glowed.

The windows remained tightly shut, concealing everything inside.

He could only imagine Jin Tang trapped in sleep beneath the weight of his chronic illness, perhaps still unable to rest peacefully, his brows faintly drawn together.

The young emperor’s slender figure.

His pallid face.

His calm eyes, touched with the lifeless stillness of someone already preparing for death…

The images flashed through Xiao Li’s mind one after another.

The Late Emperor’s voice and smiling face remained vivid in his memory.

He had been a broad-minded and benevolent ruler who had recognized Xiao Li’s abilities, shown him immeasurable favor, and treated him as a sworn brother.

Before his death, he had gripped Xiao Li’s hand and asked him to protect his only child and watch over the vast realm of Tianqi.

Yet for the past three years, Xiao Li had remained far away in the northern frontier, defending the gates of the nation while allowing the person he should have protected most in the capital to fall into such a state.

Guilt wrapped itself around his heart like a dense spiderweb.

But Xiao Li knew this was not the time to drown in emotion.

His Majesty had placed the authority of the Regent in his hands and entrusted Tianqi’s safety to him.

Whether to repay the Late Emperor’s kindness, or for the wholehearted trust shining in the clear eyes of that child when he looked at Xiao Li—

He had to stabilize the court.

Xiao Li slowly clenched his fist.

In the silence, his knuckles gave a faint crack.

His deep gaze swept across the window one final time, as though attempting to pierce the wooden lattice and see the person sleeping within.

The night wind suddenly rose.

More crabapple petals were torn from the branches, whirling like snow.

They brushed past Xiao Li’s resolute profile and settled upon his black-clad shoulders.

He lingered no longer.

Turning away, he strode toward the palace gates, his back straight as a pine.

His figure carried the cold hardness and determination forged by the sandstorms of the northern frontier, gradually disappearing into the profound darkness of the night.

The palace walls towered high.

All was silent.