The General hadn’t died on the battlefield. She died at the hands of the one she trusted most.
As for whether that so-called “fate” was real? It didn’t matter.
The Emperor got to eliminate a major threat. The “master” earned his promotion to National Preceptor. Everybody won.
Yun Qing’s death paved a smooth path for them. They stood at the top, trampling her corpse—laughing at her for being a love-struck fool.
Fu Changxun felt a wave of disgust. “So… our clearance objective is to find her blade. Does that mean we’re supposed to avenge her with it? Or… will she do it herself?”
Dong Zi answered simply, “Either way—works for me.”
Dong Zi said, in the same tone one might use when asking what’s for dinner, “We could just conveniently slit his throat on our way out.”
Fu Changxun: “…”
He gave a thumbs-up, sincere admiration in his eyes. “Nice.”
But for now, it was all just speculation. The little medicine boy didn’t know much. If they wanted the full story, they needed to hear it from the people involved. Yun Qing was dead, so the only remaining witnesses—the Emperor and the National Preceptor—were both way out of reach.
Otherwise, they could’ve just kidnapped them, beat the truth out of them, and called it a day.
…Wait a minute.
“We can kidnap the Emperor,” Fu Changxun said, a spark lighting in his eyes. “Have everyone dismissed, then sneak him away during one of Xu-ge’s rituals.”
Swift Step immediately objected. “The secret guards. The Emperor’s got hidden guards. That plan’s not gonna work.”
“Don’t worry,” Fu Changxun said confidently. “The Emperor’s paranoid as hell, and now that we’ve proven Xu-ge’s divinations are legit, he’s not going to risk offending him. As long as we act fast.”
“I’m in,” Xu Zhengyi said, raising his hand.
Xu Xiao looked at her dad and nodded. “Me too!”
Naturally, Dong Zi stood by Fu Changxun’s side without hesitation. Only Swift Step remained unconvinced.
He stayed silent for a while, then clenched his fist. “Fine. Count me in.”
***
The five of them spent half the day drafting a thorough plan—along with multiple contingencies.
Soon after, noise erupted from the neighboring hall. The National Preceptor had returned.
Not even half a moment passed before a eunuch knocked on their palace door.
“His Majesty summons—”
“Coming,” Xu Zhengyi replied at once. He was already dressed and groomed, as though he’d been waiting for this.
Of course. From the perspective of a modern office worker, when your boss calls in the old hand first, the new guy’s about to be brought in for a warning.
The eunuch was visibly surprised, but quickly masked it and said respectfully, “Elder, this way, please.”
Xu Zhengyi adjusted his robes and led his three “disciples” toward the palace the Emperor was using as a temporary office.
With the imperial study still under repair, the Emperor had reluctantly relocated.
He had just received the National Preceptor and discussed the upcoming sacrificial rites. But because the Preceptor had confidently claimed the study wouldn’t collapse—only to be proven disastrously wrong—the Emperor’s trust in him had taken a serious hit.
That’s why, not long after, he’d sent for the fortune-teller again.
But the timing…
The moment the old man arrived, the eunuch leaned in and whispered to the Emperor, “Your Majesty, the gentleman seemed to have already predicted you’d summon him—he was ready before we arrived.”
The Emperor gave a slight nod, his trust in Xu Zhengyi deepening.
“Elder, please sit.”
He spoke with great politeness. “I’ve been looking forward to this. Though your predictions have proven accurate, there’s still a nagging unease in my heart. Might I trouble you to draw a divination just for me?”
This was the moment Xu Zhengyi had been waiting for.
But he couldn’t look too eager.
“Your Majesty wishes to draw a divination…” He deliberately dragged out his words, frowning slightly.
The Emperor grew anxious. “Is something wrong? Why can’t I have my fortune read?”
Xu Zhengyi played the game of humble reluctance: “Naturally, it can be done. But Your Majesty holds the fate of the nation. To peer too deeply into Heaven’s secrets may come at a cost… This old man fears his youth-preserving arts may no longer protect him.”
A little playacting—what was a wrinkle or two next to one’s fate?
The Emperor was deeply unsettled but kept his expression smooth. “Speak your needs plainly. I implore you, help me.”
Xu Zhengyi let out a long sigh. “Very well. Then this old man shall make an exception and divine your fate.”
“But first, Your Majesty must dismiss all others. What I read must be for your ears alone.”
He spoke with such mysterious gravitas that the Emperor, already caught up in the act, could hardly refuse. “Of course.”
He waved his hand, and the eunuchs and guards withdrew.
Then he turned eagerly back. “Now, Master—”
“There’s still someone here.” Fu Changxun suddenly spoke. “Your Majesty, not everyone has left.”
Xiao Hei had spotted the hidden guards clinging to the rafters.
The Emperor was already growing impatient, but out of pride and decorum, he bit back his annoyance.
“Dark One, Dark Two. Leave us,” he ordered coolly.
From above, the secret guards obeyed and slipped silently out. The Emperor was briefly puzzled—how had Fu Changxun known? But thinking of the masterful diviner as his teacher, it made sense the disciple might also have uncanny abilities.
Now the room was truly empty.
Fu Changxun gave a nod. Then, under the Emperor’s curious gaze, Dong Zi stepped forward…
Covered the Emperor’s mouth with his own imperial robe, and like a magician, produced a rope.
“Mmph! MMMPH—!”
Never in his life, not even in his lowest moments, had the Emperor ever been tied up like this.
He was too stunned to even struggle at first—staring at these three who, mere moments ago, had been exalted sages.
Were they insane? Did they not value their lives?! They were doing this to the Son of Heaven!
By the time he thought to resist, it was too late. Their strength wasn’t human.
“Your Majesty, the National Preceptor seeks audience,” came the eunuch’s voice from outside.
Dong Zi had just finished binding the Emperor into a tight bundle when the announcement came.
He tied the last knot, then looked at Fu Changxun. The latter raised his voice, calm and clear: “His Majesty is still consulting with my master. Do not disturb. The Preceptor will have to wait.”
The eunuch must have believed it. He responded affirmatively, and the sound of retreating footsteps followed.
“Make sure he’s secure. Ah-Zi, we need to figure out how to get out of here unnoticed,” Fu Changxun said as soon as the coast was clear. “We can’t alert the guards.”
Dong Zi had tied the man up like a dumpling, his mouth stuffed so tightly he could barely breathe, leaving only his eyes to shoot furious glares their way.
Xu Zhengyi frowned. “This target’s too high-profile…”
He had a point. It wasn’t every day an emperor vanished without anyone noticing.
Fu Changxun had only just realized it himself. His expression froze, and he fell silent.
With a guilty look, he said, “This was my responsibility. Give me a moment—I’ll call the National Preceptor over and have him get us out.”
But how exactly were they supposed to “ask for help”?
A quarter-hour later, the National Preceptor was invited into the hall alone under the pretense of “discussing divination with my master.” The moment he stepped in, he was greeted by the sight of a vague, indistinct mass on the floor that vaguely resembled the Emperor.
The Preceptor blanched. “What are you trying to do?!”
Before he could cry out for help, Dong Zi glanced around and slammed his palm against one of the hall’s columns—reducing it to dust on the spot.
The National Preceptor’s expression froze. “……”
Seeing how effective brute force was, Xu Zhengyi immediately followed suit. Using his ability Brute Force Creates Miracles, he struck the matching column on the opposite side. It split open with a loud crack.
The Preceptor swallowed his scream. “……”
What fortune-teller? These guys were walking siege engines!
When the two human battering rams turned to look at him—as if he, too, were just another column—the Preceptor promptly shut up.
Unfortunately, the ruckus from their little “pillar smashing” show was far too loud. It wasn’t long before palace guards came running to the doors.
“Your Majesty, Preceptor! What happened? Do you require assistance?”
Under the suffocating pressure of two powerful players, the Preceptor trembled and stammered, “I-it’s nothing! His Majesty asked me to spar with the elder… the noise just got a little out of hand. No cause for concern!”
The guards had full faith in the National Preceptor and, reassured by his explanation, quickly dispersed.
The Emperor, still bound and gagged, was fuming with rage.
He probably never imagined that both the National Preceptor and the fortune-teller—one a pretentious fraud, the other an outright assassin—would turn out to be utterly unreliable.
And the worst part? He’d invited both wolves into his den with his own hands!
Terrified and thoroughly cowed, the National Preceptor was now as jittery as a startled bird. The moment Fu Changxun gave the word, he obeyed without question. He shakily summoned a palace attendant, announcing his intention to leave the palace. A blade pressed to his back the entire time, he was escorted out without a single opportunity to escape.
As for the Emperor, he was stuffed into a box—pretending to be “ritual equipment”—and smuggled out right alongside them.
Once they were sure they’d cleared the palace gates, Fu Changxun stood up straight and tied up the Preceptor as well.
The Preceptor: “…………”
“Signal the others. Time to regroup,” Fu Changxun said, holding the Emperor bound at his left side and the Preceptor tied up on his right—striking a rather majestic pose, like some warlord dragging his conquests behind him.
Dong Zi, already anticipating the signal, blew into a whistle.
In this ancient world, they couldn’t risk using flashy flares, so whistles were the best they could do—loud enough to alert allies, but still subtle enough to avoid drawing too much attention. They just needed to blow it from a secluded area and wait.
“Wait a sec—did we forget something?” Xu Zhengyi, holding little Xiao Xiao’s hand in his left, suddenly slapped his forehead with his right. “What about Swift Step? Isn’t he still in the palace?”
Fu Changxun and Dong Zi both turned around—ah. They’d completely forgotten.
Thankfully, the other players had been anxiously waiting just outside. The moment they heard the whistle, they rushed over—Swift Step included.
But as soon as they arrived, they were hit with a bombshell: the team had kidnapped the Emperor and the National Preceptor.
Zhao-jie was stunned. Her first instinct was to yank off the cloth covering the Emperor’s face. She just had to see what kind of scumbag could make a powerful general fall so hard she’d give up her life for him.
“…Huh. So that’s it?” She stared for a moment, disappointed. She’d expected a breathtakingly handsome man, a proper ancient heartthrob—but aside from thick eyebrows and big eyes, the Emperor was utterly average. “Tch tch tch… Yun Qing really was too naive.”
Ning Wan shook her head. “Guess love really is blind. Should we tell Yun He?”
The latter part was directed at Fu Changxun—she clearly trusted him now.
Fu Changxun nodded. “Swift Step, go tell her. Midnight. General’s Platform.”
“…MMP.” Swift Step muttered under his breath.
He’d just run back, and now he had to run errands again?!
Although the Emperor’s disappearance was quickly discovered, to prevent mass panic, the officials unanimously agreed to keep it under wraps. They began a quiet search for both the Emperor and the Preceptor.
It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack.
Later that night, under strict curfew, the players led their two captives to the General’s Platform.
