In the past, Emperor Wu of Han dug the bottom of Kunming Lake and found black ash. He asked Dongfang Shuo about it, but Shuo said he didn't know and suggested asking the people from the Western Regions. Later, when Fa Lan arrived, everyone pursued the matter and asked him. Fa Lan said: "At the end of a world cycle, the fire of tribulation burns everything. This is that ash." (Southern Dynasties, Liang - Shi Huijiao, "Biographies of Eminent Monks")

In the autumn of the twenty-fourth year of Yanshou, the setting sun was like blood.

At dusk, five hundred Imperial Guards, fully armored and armed, set out from the Imperial City and surrounded Ciyun Temple in the suburbs of Zhaojing with a lightning-fast offensive.

This quiet temple was located in Wanshou Mountain. In autumn, the mountainside was covered in maple leaves, blazing like fire, making it a good place for outings and sightseeing. But at this moment, it was deserted and silent, with only the chirping of birds from deep within the forest.

The commanding general of the Left Valiant Cavalry Army, Wang Song, hesitated outside the temple for a long time. His hand holding the reins loosened and tightened several times. Watching the sun sink little by little, like the drumbeat of doom, his expression grew increasingly grim.

Not until the setting sun bathed the distant palace towers in a bloody hue did he finally grit his teeth and make up his mind, raising his hand to signal his subordinates to prepare for an attack.

Just then, a light skirt suddenly appeared in everyone's view, like a splash of bright color on a silent, monochrome scroll. An elderly woman dressed in the attire of a palace manager calmly walked out from the depths of the courtyard. Her expression was serene, and she seemed to ignore the glittering blades and spears all around. She gave Wang Song a graceful, slight curtsy and said softly, "By Her Highness's command, the general is invited inside for an audience."

Wang Song's heart leaped into his throat. He immediately signaled his personal guards to halt. After a moment of uncertain contemplation, he finally dismounted, uttered a word of apology for the intrusion, and followed the lady official's lead through the bleak autumn courtyard toward the main hall.

This temple was built twenty years ago by the Emperor and Empress for their beloved daughter, Princess Chiming. The princess was the second daughter of the current Emperor, Wen Jingxing, and the only child of the Late Empress Chu. It was said that she had suffered a severe illness in her childhood. The Emperor and Empress, deeply worried for their beloved daughter, summoned monks and Daoists in the capital to the palace to pray for her. Among them, a monk with the dharma name "Tongming" advised the Emperor, saying that although the princess was exceptionally intelligent, extreme wisdom was easily detrimental. If she could renounce the secular world and take refuge in Buddhism, she might be blessed with a lifetime of peace.

The Emperor and Empress were skeptical of this claim and could not bear to let the princess become a nun. But since their daughter's life was at stake, they ultimately chose a compromise. They built Ciyun Temple on Wanshou Mountain in the princess's name and changed her name to "Wen Chan," bestowing upon her the title "Chiming," to show her affinity with Buddhism.

Wang Song kept his head slightly lowered, focusing only on the path before him, and did not stop until he was outside the Buddhist hall.

Before the statue of the Buddha stood a woman in black.

Merely glancing at her figure made his legs go weak and his breath catch.

In the years since, the princess had indeed fulfilled the first half of that prophecy. She was intelligent, astute, and decisive in action. The Emperor even made an exception and allowed her to participate in court affairs alongside the princes. Throughout history, there had been many favored princesses, but few could match her power, rivaling that of princes, with civil and military officials flocking to her service. It was to the point that now, with the Prince of Yue wanting to force the Emperor's abdication and seize the throne, his first consideration was not his other brothers, but to immediately eliminate her, his greatest obstacle.

'Your Highness...'

The princess's silhouette was tall and straight. Hearing his voice, she turned and glanced at him, and correctly called out his name: "General Wang Song."

Wang Song bowed slightly but did not kneel in salute. After all, he was here today on orders to kill Her Highness. Having already become the villain, to act subserviently now would seem too spineless.

Wen Chan's expression was calm, her gaze as cold as ice and snow, yet it seemed to see right through him. "Since you have come in person, General, it seems the Left Valiant Cavalry Army has resolved to pledge allegiance to the Prince of Yue."

Her words held no hint of reprimand, yet Wang Song felt as if Mount Tai was crashing down on him. He bowed even lower and, with great difficulty, forced a hollow apology from his chest: "This humble general... deserves to die ten thousand deaths."

"There's no need for you to die. Don't panic." The princess asked with great interest, "What manner of death has the Prince of Yue chosen for me?"

Wang Song took a porcelain vial from his waist, held it forward with both hands, and said with a trembling voice, "This humble general has received Your Highness's immense favor and cannot escape blame even in death. It is only... only for the future of my entire clan that I have no choice but to commit this crime..."

The elderly lady official stepped forward and took the medicine vial from his hands.

For Wang Song, assassinating the princess was by no means a simple task, not only because it was a path of rebellion with no return, but also because the entire Imperial Guard held an extraordinary respect for this princess.

In the winter of the eleventh year of Yanshou, Princess Chiming's period of mourning ended. She returned to the palace from Ciyun Temple and accompanied the Son of Heaven on an imperial tour to the Northern Capital Songyang to hunt at the temporary palace on Xinglong Mountain. Just as heavy snow began to fall, a mutiny suddenly broke out among the Imperial Guard at the temporary palace that night. The accompanying Xiaoji and Baotao Guards, numbering about three thousand, surrounded the temporary palace. The court officials were cut off to the south, while the Emperor, imperial clansmen, and consorts were all gathered in Yongcui Palace in the northern palace.

At that time, the Son of Heaven doted on Noble Consort Fu and had appointed the Fu family's Fu Tong and Fu Ming to command the Imperial Guard. When the sounds of killing suddenly erupted in the night, the Fu brothers rushed to the Emperor in a panic, wailing that someone in the Imperial Guard had incited a rebellion. The Emperor was greatly shaken by the news and hastily ordered the Yulin Imperial Guard to suppress the rebels. However, the two guards were in a bloodthirsty frenzy, and for a time, even the imperial personal guard could not stop them. The two sides were locked in a stalemate before the palace gate, and several times, stray arrows broke through the windows, the closest landing only a few paces from the Emperor.

Seeing the sounds of killing draw closer, the Fu brothers fled into the rear hall in disarray, begging Noble Consort Fu to protect their lives. The consorts and female relatives of the imperial clan were all waiting in the rear hall. Suddenly seeing outsiders burst in, they grew even more terrified and uneasy amidst the chaos. In the midst of the clamor and shouting, Wen Chan ordered the palace attendants to stop the two men. She rose to her feet and personally questioned them, "Right now, all the soldiers are fighting and shedding blood on the front lines. As a general in a crucial position, why are you not in the front hall guarding His Majesty, but instead desperately hiding behind others?"

Fu Tong's face was ashen, and he remained silent. Fu Ming shouted fiercely, "This is none of your business, move!" He violently shoved aside the palace attendant who tried to stop him, repeatedly yelling, "Aunt, save me!" as he tried to force his way into the rear hall with brute strength.

But before he could step into the inner chamber, he suddenly felt a whistling sound in the air, a cold sensation on the side of his neck, and in the corner of his eye, he seemed to glimpse a dazzling light intertwined with silver and crimson. Immediately after, he fell flat on his back.

Blood shot into the air, spraying more than a foot high. He didn't even have time to turn and see who had struck.

"Ah—!!"

"Murder!"

The hall fell into a deathly silence for an instant, which was immediately followed by an unending series of high-pitched screams.

Wen Chan, holding a long, decorative sword she had pulled from the wall, looked up at Fu Tong amidst the chilling gleam and blood. She asked playfully, "General Fu, do you think your esteemed brother's fine head is enough to appease the army's morale?"

One who walks dark roads will eventually meet a ghost. Fu Tong was used to being a tyrant, but he had never met such a tough and ruthless character. Stared at by her cold, scrutinizing gaze, he was like a molting quail whose every weakness had been seen through. He could only open his mouth in vain, his lips trembling, unable to speak.

Noble Consort Fu rushed out from the inner chamber. Upon seeing her nephew lying dead on the floor, her beautiful face lost all color. She lunged forward to slap Wen Chan, screaming hysterically, "Witch! Monster! You should never have been allowed back to the palace... You witch!"

Wen Chan caught her wrist and effortlessly pushed her back into the arms of her maids. She even thoughtfully advised, "Swords have no eyes, Your Ladyship. Please don't run about. It would be terrible if you were accidentally stabbed."

Noble Consort Fu: "..."

"Guards! Guards!!"

A moment later, there was a flurry of footsteps as a group of imperial clansmen from the front heard the commotion and rushed over. Seeing the scene, they nearly choked. It was hard to say which was more absurd: the princess personally cutting someone down, or that the person she cut down was the Noble Consort's nephew, a court official. Even a case of dog-eat-dog wouldn't be this outrageous.

Amidst the terrified gazes of her many uncles, Wen Chan calmly flicked the blood from her blade. She then nodded at the enraged Noble Consort Fu, her tone as polite as if she were greeting her before a stroll. "Please calm down, Noble Consort. I will go and ask for His Majesty's forgiveness now—someone give me a hand, bring the two General Fus with me."

The surrounding guards, Imperial Guards, palace maids, and eunuchs all shrunk back, wishing they could bury their heads in the ground. Wen Chan raised an eyebrow and had just clicked her tongue softly in impatience when a small commotion arose in the crowd, which then parted on its own. A tall young man wearing a sword stepped forward. Without saying a word, he silently bent down and picked up Fu Ming's body.

Fu Tong gave him a wary look. This man was Lu Shuo, the orphaned son of the late Great General Lu Zhonghui. He currently served as a colonel in the Left Divine Army, specifically tasked with guarding the Emperor. At the beginning of Wen Jingxing's reign, the foreign Tongluo tribe invaded the border. Lu Zhonghui was ordered to lead the troops into battle. After three years, he successfully quelled the unrest but was assassinated by a Tongluo assassin at the border. Grateful for his sacrifice for the country, Wen Jingxing brought his orphaned son, Lu Shuo, to the palace, raising him alongside the princes as if he were half a son of his own.

With such a status, it was no wonder that even the imperial clansmen dared not stop him.

Lu Shuo looked at the sword in Wen Chan's hand, glanced at her, and seemed to ask with his eyes, 'Shall I?' Wen Chan shook her head slightly. Fu Tong wanted to argue further, but Wen Chan pricked his back with the tip of her sword. "General Fu, if you please."

In Yongcui Palace, the Emperor stared at the kneeling Fu Tong and the corpse of Fu Ming on the floor, then looked at the calm-faced Wen Chan and Lu Shuo. It took him a long while to force a few words through his clenched teeth: "What is the meaning of this... Who did this?"

Wen Chan dutifully knelt and replied, "Reporting to Father Emperor, it was your daughter."

Always causing more trouble at the worst possible time. The Emperor was so furious he was about to pass out. "You're just a young girl! Have you eaten the heart of a bear and the gall of a leopard? How dare you be so ruthless?!"

"Reporting to Father Emperor," Wen Chan placed the bloodstained sword horizontally before her and said with downcast eyes, "your daughter has heard that when two armies clash on the battlefield, there must be a supervising officer guarding the rear. Deserters are to be executed on the spot to prevent morale from faltering."

"Now, the princes are attending to you, and the soldiers are fighting with all their might, risking their lives to protect Your Majesty. Only these two commanders of the Imperial Guard abandoned Your Majesty, fleeing in panic to save their own skins. Your daughter cannot personally charge into the fray at the front, so I could only act as the supervising officer and guard the rear for Father Emperor."

The Emperor never expected her to utter such a high-sounding, righteous speech and was momentarily stunned.

Fu Tong kowtowed forcefully, crying loudly on the ground, "The Fu Clan has received the sovereign's grace and wishes we could die ten thousand times to repay it! My loyalty to Your Majesty is absolutely true, the sun and moon can bear witness!"

The end of his cry was a broken shriek, which, combined with his sobs, sounded especially mournful. Wen Chan asked coolly, "Then why did you run?"

Fu Tong choked.

Wen Chan didn't look at him again. She raised her head to look at the Emperor, her gaze clear and resolute, every word so solemn it could have cratered the ground. "The Imperial Guard attends to the monarch, protects the Son of Heaven, and is selected from the army's elite, led by trusted high ministers. They are Your Majesty's closest retinue, no different from your own eyes, ears, hands, and feet. Yet now, they have mutinied and caused trouble, creating a rift between sovereign and subject. Who is responsible for this situation? Shouldn't General Fu give Your Majesty, and the realm, an explanation?"

Fu Tong hastily defended himself, "This subject truly did not know the Imperial Guard had rebellious intentions! It was the mutinous soldiers who were clamoring for my and my brother's lives. I only fled the hall in a panic! The princess killed my brother without distinguishing right from wrong, and now she wants to pin the crime of the Imperial Guard's mutiny on me. I don't understand, what benefit is there for the princess in framing the Fu Clan for disloyalty and injustice!"

Wen Chan let out a laugh. She pointed outside and said, "If General Fu believes he has acted with integrity, why don't we bring in one of the Imperial Guards and ask him why he rebelled? Why he is so intent on taking your life?"

Fu Tong retorted, "Let a mutinous soldier in? Where does that leave His Majesty's safety?"

Wen Chan mocked, "How rare. The general has finally remembered His Majesty's safety. I thought you didn't care."

Fu Tong: "You're speaking utter non—"

"Enough!" The Emperor could finally listen no longer and shouted them down. "Both of you, be silent! All this bickering, what a disgrace!"

The Emperor was no fool. He had feelings for Noble Consort Fu, which was why he indulged her nephews. But abandoning the sovereign to flee for one's life in a crisis was a major taboo for the consort's family. Once the veneer of "family" was stripped away, the Fu brothers were worthless in the Emperor's eyes.

Although that veneer was thin, it was still attached to the Emperor's pride. Wen Chan was ruthless because she not only dared to tear it, but did so in a grand and righteous manner. Compared to the craven Fu brothers, her loyalty and devotion were exemplary enough to be carved on stone tablets and passed down for millennia. Rather than punish her for a dead man, it was better to go with the flow, follow the path Wen Chan had laid out, and present the image of an impartial emperor for the court officials to see.

The Emperor coldly stared at the prostrate, weeping Fu Tong. He slowly let out a long breath. After a moment, he finally spoke, commanding, "Lu Shuo, go. Summon the generals of the Baotao and Xiaoji Guards to see us."