In the grand halls of the Ice Profound Empire, where frost-kissed banners fluttered under eternal auroras, the struggle for the throne had always been a game of shadows and steel. Tonight, however, the board was shifting.
Bing Yong froze at Yang Guo's proposal. A pie this sweet, falling straight from the heavens? He had been rebuffed by the Yang Clan time and again—how could their iron-willed general suddenly bend the knee?
Suspicion coiled in his gut like a venomous serpent. The crown prince contest was a den of schemes and daggers cloaked in silk. One misstep, and empires crumbled. He dared not trust honeyed words without proof.
"Please, General Yang, be seated." Bing Yong settled onto a stone bench beneath the pavilion's jade lantern, personally pouring wine into crystalline cups. "Your Highness, after you."
Yang Guo laughed heartily, his aura as unyielding as a mountain storm. A warrior through and through, he drained his cup without ceremony.
Bing Yong's gaze sharpened. "Might this prince know the true reason behind General Yang's decision?"
Yang Guo nodded, his voice dropping to a gravelly rumble. "It is because—"
"Your Highness!" Advisor Chen burst back into the pavilion, bowing low. "Patriarch Wu requests an audience!"
Bing Yong's heart lurched. Two titans of the empire, converging on the same night? Even Eldest Brother would be at a loss. A chilling premonition slithered through his mind...
"Admit National Preceptor Wu at once!" he commanded.
Wu Ha, patriarch of the Wu Clan and current National Preceptor, was one of the empire's three pillar ministers. His status rivaled Yang Guo and the late Lin Kun. Bing Yong had sought his allegiance countless times, only to be turned away at the gates. For the man to come unannounced... it felt like a dream woven from frost.
Yang Guo's brow arched in faint surprise, but he said nothing, merely sipping his wine in silence.
Moments later, a white-robed middle-aged man glided in like a crane among clouds. Where Yang Guo exuded the ferocity of a battlefield tiger, Wu Ha carried the refined elegance of a wandering scholar, his steps light as falling snow.
Spotting Yang Guo, Wu Ha faltered for a heartbeat before recovering his poise. He cupped his fists toward Bing Yong. "Forgive the intrusion, Fourth Prince. I see even General Yang graces your presence."
Though the great clans beneath the Ice Profound Empire were not the bitterest of foes—like the Hua and Yu Clans of White Sand—they were far from allies. United, their might could shake the heavens.
Bing Yong rose to greet him, repeating his earlier question. "National Preceptor Wu honors me with his visit. To what do I owe this pleasure?"
Wu Ha took the seat beside Yang Guo, casting a sidelong glance at the general before sighing with theatrical melancholy. "His Majesty's breakthrough to the Body Integration Realm is cause for national celebration. Another guardian stands watch over our empire. Yet this humble preceptor cannot sleep— the position of Crown Prince remains vacant... sigh."
Yang Guo's mouth twitched. This silver-tongued fox. Give me a soldier's bluntness any day.
"Well said, National Preceptor," Bing Yong replied, his tone heavy with feigned burden. "The throne is no light crown. It bears the weight of ten thousand souls, mountains of duty that crush even a cultivator's progress. This prince has long wished to sacrifice himself for the greater good—if not I, who shall enter this hell?"
He drained his cup, eyes distant as if gazing upon the Dao itself.
Wu Ha's smile deepened. "Your Highness's nobility moves the heavens. Thus, this Wu pledges the Wu Clan to support Your Highness's ascension—for the empire's prosperity!"
Yang Guo nearly choked. Suddenly I'm the third wheel in my own alliance.
Bing Yong raised his cup. "That two pillars of the realm think of our future fills this prince with joy. To you both!"
"To Your Highness!" The three cups clinked like fate's own chime.
With the pleasantries dispensed, Bing Yong's guard remained ironclad. "I am honored by your support, but I must ask—what wind blows two such dragons to my humble door?"
Wu Ha exchanged a glance with Yang Guo before speaking first, his smile sly as a fox. "The bond between Third Princess and Your Highness is the envy of the empire. If the Wu Clan must choose a liege, who better than siblings of such profound loyalty?"
Bing Yong inclined his head, warmth flickering in his chest. His sister had been mother, confidante, and guiding star since childhood.
"Moreover," Wu Ha continued, eyes gleaming, "this preceptor greatly admires Third Princess's... connection with that Master of the Rear Palace."
Bingo. Bing Yong's pupils contracted. Though Lan An and Bing Lan Xi had not publicized their bond, their joint appearances spoke volumes. Add Bing Lin'er—Third Princess's personal maid and a Rear Palace member—plus the Lin Clan's tragic fall after Lin Qing's folly...
Lan An's notorious charm made the dots easy to connect for these old monsters.
In matters of empire, a single thread of possibility was worth wagering a clan's future. Especially when that thread tied to the Rear Palace—a power rivaling the Ice Profound Empire itself.
The Wu and Yang Clans had played their cards close for years. Their sudden allegiance confirmed their investigations aligned with truth.
Bing Yong smiled wryly. Sister's husband is a heaven-defying variable.
"And General Yang's thoughts?" he asked.
Yang Guo, ever the blunt blade, cut straight. "The Yang Clan backs Your Highness and Third Princess because we value her bond with the Rear Palace Master."
No room for doubt.
Silence fell like fresh snow. Bing Yong swirled his wine, then asked the question that chilled the air:
"If my royal sister had no ties to him—would you be here tonight?"
Wu Ha and Yang Guo shared a look, then shook their heads in unison.
"Forgive our candor," Wu Ha said. "Barring Sixth and Seventh Princes' youth, Your Highness and Third Princess lag behind the others. We cannot gamble our clans' fates on sentiment."
Bing Yong's fist clenched beneath the table, but he could not refute them. He would have done the same.
Eldest Prince: Born to the Empress, eldest heir, cultivation at Void Refining Perfection—rivaling the two patriarchs before him.
Second Prince: Late-stage Void Refining, allied with the Lin Clan and countless powers.
Fifth Princess: Golden Board genius, beloved by prodigies empire-wide, daughter of the Emperor's most favored consort.
Compared to them, Bing Yong and his sister barely edged out Sixth Prince. Seventh still studied at Sacred Spirit Academy, far from the fray.
Yet they had advantages: an unmatched strategist, unbreakable sibling loyalty, and now—a brother-in-law who turned the tide.
Having such a brother-in-law and not exploiting it would be folly, Bing Yong mused. He met their gazes coolly.
"And if Third Princess's bond with the Rear Palace Master falls short of your hopes?"
"Then pretend we were never here," they replied in unison.
Honesty bred trust. Bing Yong nodded, confidence surging like a dragon awakening.
"Excellent. When shall the Wu and Yang Clans declare to the world their allegiance to this prince?"
The prestige of these clans was monumental. Their endorsement would catapult his reputation beyond even Second Prince.
Wu Ha and Yang Guo exchanged another glance—Bing Yong's boldness confirmed their intel. The Rear Palace Master was tied to Third Princess.
They spoke with grave finality:
"The day Third Princess becomes Madame Lan, and the Rear Palace Master is named Imperial Son-in-Law—the Wu and Yang Clans shall become Your Highness's right and left arms!"
"So it is decided." Bing Yong closed his eyes, a conqueror's smile ghosting his lips.
In the void beyond sight, Bing Lan Xi watched through a transmission array, pride and joy blooming like frost lotuses in her heart.
🌹 Âm Mưu Ở Hậu Cung
Meanwhile, in a lavish palace of gold and jade...
Two women sat across from each other, each a vision that could topple kingdoms.
The elder was a mature beauty draped in imperial phoenix robes, her features sharp as carved jade, eyes gleaming with cunning and unyielding confidence. Consort Yin, most favored among the Emperor's harem, her status nearly rivaling the Empress herself.
Opposite her sat a vision of youthful allure—hair like cascading pink silk, eyes bright as morning stars, skin fair as fresh snow, lips red as winter plums. A faint, youthful fragrance lingered about her like spring mist. Bing Feifei, Fifth Princess of the Ice Profound Empire, daughter of Consort Yin and Emperor Bing Changkong.
Gone was her usual radiant confidence. Worry clouded her gem-like eyes as she pouted at her mother. "Imperial Mother, reliable sources say... Wu Ha and Yang Guo have both gone to Fourth Brother. This daughter is truly anxious!"
"What?!" Consort Yin's composure cracked. To thrive in the palace's viper pit required more than beauty—she grasped the gravity instantly. If the Wu and Yang Clans backed Bing Yong, Feifei's ambitions were dust.
"It came from Yang Ye and Wu Zhong themselves," Bing Feifei bit her lip. "They warned me to prepare my heart."
Yang Ye: Yang Guo's son. Wu Zhong: Wu Ha's heir.
Both were her suitors, manipulated for intel. Powerless to stop their fathers, they'd offered this courtesy out of lingering affection.
Consort Yin's face darkened. "The reason?"
"Third Sister is entangled with that Demonic Prodigy!" Bing Feifei spat, resentment burning. All my sacrifices—banquets, false smiles, enduring leering nobles, performing for spoiled young masters... for what? Third Sister did nothing but float above like an untouchable ice fairy, and now she surpassed her with a single man?
Consort Yin soothed, "The Rear Palace and His Majesty are at odds. Bing Yong and Bing Lan Xi may yet gain nothing."
Bing Feifei laughed bitterly. "The Rear Palace rivals our empire. That man is the Mad Violence Queen's disciple. Even Father dares not cross him!"
Consort Yin fell silent, recalling the Emperor's groveling after offending Diyama Moon Queen.
Her gaze swept over her daughter's peerless beauty, then ignited with ambition. "Feifei, what do you think of the Rear Palace Master?"
Bing Feifei blinked, lost in thought. Her voice softened. "Demonic is too mild a word. Looks, background—peerless. But such a philanderer... the archetype of a wicked man."
Consort Yin countered, "Could a wicked man catch your Third Sister's eye?"
"I..." Bing Feifei faltered. Bing Lan Xi was pride incarnate. She'd scorned Lin Qing's pursuit like dirt. Yet she walked openly with him?
"Setting Lan Xi aside," Consort Yin pressed, "could Twin Moon Fairy, Hundred Faces Fairy, even White Sand's Empress Hua Qingzhu—all women of legendary discernment—be wrong about a man?"
Bing Feifei inhaled sharply. She saw her mother's intent but asked anyway. "Mother means...?"
"Even if Lan Xi claims him, you can still carve your place—steal his favor, reverse the board!"
"But if I don't want him?" Bing Feifei's voice quivered.
Consort Yin pulled her daughter into her embrace, voice tender as falling snow. "Meet him. If your heart rejects him, walk away. Win or lose, mother and daughter will have no regrets—yes?"
Bing Feifei buried her face in her mother's robes, resolve hardening like eternal ice.
"Third Sister... this little sister will not lose!"