Chapter 20

Chapter 20: Blood Phoenix, Ancient Phoenix

Emperor Lord You Lan lowered his eyes, searching for a way to give his second son even a shred of dignity.

“Miss Lin and you were never close,” he said coolly. “How could she have fallen for you?”

Ning Wen Yue forced a grin, shameless as ever. “It was Miss Lin who fell for your son at first sight—”

Bang!

A guard beside Emperor Lord You Lan drove Ning Wen Yue down. His forehead hit the floor, and the man’s boot pinned his head there without mercy.

“Nonsense,” Emperor Lord You Lan snapped, anger flaring. “What kind of filth is coming out of your mouth?”

In recent years, the imperial heirs of You Lan had been a sorry sight—either sickly, or talentless, or both. Aside from Ning Wen Gui, You Lan had never truly liked any of them.

This second son, at least, had strength and some cultivation talent, even if he was addicted to pretty faces. When Ning Wen Gui’s injuries seemed beyond saving, You Lan had placed his hopes on Ning Wen Yue and even granted him the daughter of a high minister as his wife.

And the hateful fool had dared set his sights on the Young Lord of the Noble Houses.

“Imperial Father…” Ning Wen Yue struggled, voice muffled against the stone.

“You’ve committed a grave mistake.” Emperor Lord You Lan’s tone was like iron. “But for the sake of the Lu Family’s merits, you will choose a date within three months and marry Miss Lu. Do not disgrace her sincere devotion again.”

Ning Wen Yue’s eyes widened.

“You may be spared death,” You Lan continued, each word measured, “but you will not escape punishment. Starting today, Ning Wen Yue is demoted by three ranks. The wedding procession will follow the standards of an ordinary Count. After the wedding, you will be confined for one year and may not leave your estate.”

He let out a heavy breath.

Across the hall, Lin Zhao sat with an unreadable half-smile. Emperor Lord You Lan understood the message perfectly: if the punishment was light, even if Lin Zhao herself let it pass, the other noble houses would not. They would join forces and tear the You Lan Imperial Clan apart in public opinion, if not in steel.

An imperial prince daring to insult the Young Lord of the Noble Houses—if that could be brushed aside, then it would look as though the You Lan Empire considered itself above the noble houses.

Ning Wen Yue might be slow, but he understood “demoted by three ranks.”

“Imperial Father—!”

Lu Mei’s gaze cut like a blade.

Ning Wen Yue swallowed the rest of his protest. Lu Mei lowered herself to her knees, biting down hard enough that the tension showed at her jaw, then bowed and spoke with perfect obedience.

“This subject thanks Your Majesty for your great mercy.”

This time, Ning Wen Yue refused to be controlled by her. He twisted his head against the guard’s boot and shouted, voice cracking with grievance and confusion, “Imperial Father, this was clearly Lin Zhao setting Mei Er and me up! Why are you siding with an outsider?”

He was about to blurt out more when a woman’s voice floated in from the doorway—soft, urgent, and carefully tuned to tug at sympathy.

“Emperor Lord, please calm your anger!”

Lin Zhao glanced over.

A woman swept in with quick steps, rose-red palace gown fluttering like petals. Her face was small and pale, so pale it looked almost translucent, and her apricot eyes were lowered in a pitiful, fragile tilt.

Noble Consort Zhao.

She was nothing like the fearsome figure Lin Zhao had imagined.

“My son has been plagued by nightmares lately,” Noble Consort Zhao pleaded, voice trembling just enough to be convincing. “That’s why he offended Young Lord Lin. He truly didn’t mean it!”

She dropped to her knees at once, hands pressed to the floor.

“This concubine apologizes to Young Lord Lin on behalf of my son, who has lost his senses. Please be magnanimous, Young Lord Lin, and forgive your cousin!”

The Empress of You Lan was a collateral relative of the Lin Family. Ning Wen Yue had to call her Empress Mother. Strictly speaking, that made him Lin Zhao’s cousin—though not by blood.

Two sentences, and Noble Consort Zhao had turned a public insult into the babbling of an addled mind. Two sentences, and she had tried to make a clash between a prince and the Young Lord into a petty cousinly squabble.

Make the big issue small. Make the small issue disappear.

Lin Zhao did not even look at her.

“Uncle Ning,” she said calmly, “what do you think?”

Hearing her call him Uncle Ning—and thinking of the Empress, secluded for years—Emperor Lord You Lan’s gaze softened for an instant. When he looked back at Noble Consort Zhao, however, something colder flickered through his eyes.

“Noble Consort Zhao,” he said, voice flat, “since Yue Er is not in his right mind, take him away. Treat him. Discipline him. Do not let him come out again to offend our honored guest.”

Noble Consort Zhao’s face, already pale, turned ashen. Her body swayed, as if she might collapse right there.

“Your Majesty…”

Watching her perform that delicate weakness made Lin Zhao think, unhelpfully, of Chen Luo Luo. The difference was that Noble Consort Zhao was long past the age where such tricks looked innocent. Painted sweetly, the act only became more awkward—like an old cucumber dyed green.

Perhaps it worked in private. Here, in a hall full of eyes, it was simply embarrassing.

Emperor Lord You Lan flicked his hand.

Dismissed.

Noble Consort Zhao’s breath caught. Still, she gathered herself, rose with stiff dignity, and hurried to haul her son away. Ning Wen Yue’s face had gone slack with shock, the reality finally sinking in.

Lu Mei stood very still after thanking the Emperor Lord. Her head was lowered, but Lin Zhao caught the vicious glint that flashed in her eyes—bright, quick, and hungry, as if she were already counting the ways to claw something back.

Lin Zhao’s caution sharpened.

Before, Lin Zhao had suspected Noble Consort Zhao and her son of poisoning Ning Wen Gui, because that Tai Yi Realm Clear Lotus had come from Noble Consort Zhao as well. But now, watching her flounder, Lin Zhao felt the suspicion crack. Those two did not seem capable of that kind of clean, hidden cruelty.

Lu Mei, on the other hand… even after being forced into this corner, still held herself together.

After the hall quieted, Emperor Lord You Lan’s gaze returned to Lin Zhao.

“Young Lord Lin,” he said, voice restrained, “I have a few words for you. Do you have time?”

Lin Zhao glanced toward Ning Wen Gui. Seeing the hesitation on his face, she paused, then nodded.

“Someone,” Emperor Lord You Lan ordered, “escort the Crown Prince back.”

He ignored his younger son’s faintly threatening stare and led Lin Zhao into a private room.

A Barrier Domain rose, sealing them away from prying ears. Only then did Emperor Lord You Lan speak again.

“I heard from Steward Wang that you know a senior who can save Wen Gui.”

Lin Zhao nodded once.

The Emperor Lord studied her, expression tangled and complicated.

“Uncle Ning didn’t bring me here only to ask that,” Lin Zhao said lightly.

A short, humorless breath left him. “Sharp as ice and snow. No wonder Wen Gui…”

He rose, hands clasped behind his back. Then the air changed.

Pressure crashed down on Lin Zhao like a collapsing mountain.

Instinct moved faster than thought. Lin Zhao circulated the Phoenix Pulse Art. Pale green spiritual energy surged behind her, shaping itself into the faint silhouette of a Hong Hu, wings half-spread as if ready to strike.

Emperor Lord You Lan’s eyes narrowed. “Phoenix Fortune protecting your body?”

He recognized the shadow immediately.

“Even with only the last shred of Phoenix Fortune,” he said, voice low, “you can drive it to this extent. You truly are one of the fated Phoenix Maidens.”

Lin Zhao froze. Confusion prickled through her, sharp and cold.

“You’re talking about me?”

“Yes.” Emperor Lord You Lan’s gaze did not waver. “On the day you and Ji Wan Tang were born, there were heavenly anomalies. The divinations of the four great Sacred Lands all reached the same prophecy: the Blood Phoenix and the Ancient Phoenix—kings do not meet kings.”

Lin Zhao’s thoughts snapped into place with a quiet click. “The Ancient Phoenix is me, and the Blood Phoenix is Ji Wan Tang?”

The Emperor Lord nodded.

“The first time you met Ji Wan Tang, most of your Fate Luck was plundered by her,” he said. “But as long as you live, the two kings will meet again. And when you do… one will die.”

Lin Zhao knew the name Ji Wan Tang. The person herself, however, was a stranger—only a shadow in the story of her own stolen Phoenix Fortune. She had not expected the other woman’s Phoenix Fortune to be no weaker than hers.

In her Sea of Consciousness, Granny spoke, voice grim.

“Blood Phoenix Phoenix Fortune… that girl walks a path of wagering life against life. If you don’t grow stronger, she’ll come to swallow you one day.”

Emperor Lord You Lan exhaled and, at last, withdrew his pressure. The Hong Hu shadow behind Lin Zhao eased, though it did not vanish.

“But that is not why I called you here today.” The Emperor Lord’s smile was bitter. “I called you here because of that child, Wen Gui. Do you know that before you were even born… our two families were betrothed in the womb?”

Lin Zhao went still.

Threads she had never bothered to touch suddenly knotted together, tightening in her chest until she almost couldn’t breathe.

“Does the Crown Prince know?” she asked.

“Of course he knew.” Emperor Lord You Lan’s eyes flickered. “But you were too young, and you understood nothing, so we didn’t tell you. Later, the Holy Son of Yao Chi pushed for Yao Chi Sacred Land to claim you. People from Yao Chi Sacred Land came…”

His jaw tightened.

“So I went alone to the Lin Family,” he said, voice roughening, “and broke off the engagement.”

Understanding slammed into Lin Zhao hard enough that her fingers curled.

No wonder Father and Mother had been indifferent to the You Lan Imperial Clan all these years. No wonder they had never smiled at You Lan, even after Ning Wen Gui was schemed against and dragged to this state. Lin Mang and Yao Yun treasured her like life itself—if she had been cast aside, no matter the reason, they would never forgive it with grace.

Emperor Lord You Lan closed his eyes.

“After the engagement was broken, the Empress went into seclusion,” he said quietly. “Wen Gui shut himself away for years. I know what I did wronged them, and wronged the Lin Family. But I am Emperor Lord You Lan. I had to think of all of You Lan.”