Shu Mingye exhaled slowly and closed the scroll in front of him.
Linyue and her chaotic little group were out again. Probably looking for trouble, or walking straight into it. He had already ordered his best shadow guards to follow them from a distance. They were strong. They should be fine. Still…
His hand hovered over the next scroll. He had a very bad feeling. That annoying prince might accidentally buy a cursed sword or adopt a haunted goat. With this group, anything was possible.
Then there was a knock at the door.
Shu Mingye didn't even look up. His voice came out flat. "Come in."
The door opened quietly and Boyi stepped in, looking grim. Never a good sign.
Shu Mingye's eyes narrowed. "Speak."
"Lord," Boyi said, bowing low. "We confirmed it. Some of the guards were spies. We caught them. But…" He hesitated, his expression tight. "They're behaving strangely."
Shu Mingye's brow arched. "Strange how?"
"They didn't answer any questions," Boyi said, eyes narrowed. "Didn't even blink. Their eyes were empty. Completely blank. No matter what we did—questions, pain, even threats—they didn't react. It's like... like they're broken dolls."
For a long moment, the room was silent. Shu Mingye's frown deepened. Like broken dolls?
Before he could say a word, the door slammed open again.
Shanjun burst in, panting like he had sprinted across half the palace. "LORD! The guards—they've started attacking each other in the training ground!"
Shu Mingye's frown deepened so much it could've carved a second crease into his forehead. He didn't say a word. Just stood up and strode out with calm, measured steps. And by the time he reached the training ground, any fragile hope of a normal day was long gone.
Blood stained the dirt. Bodies lay scattered on the ground. Some guards were motionless, clearly dead. Others were still fighting, thrashing like wild beasts. Their movements were jerky and wrong, like they weren't fully in control. One charged headfirst into a wall with a sickening crack. Another spun in circles, swinging his sword at invisible enemies. Just as Shanjun said… like broken dolls, being yanked around by an invisible string.
Shu Mingye didn't hesitate. His spiritual energy flared, heat rippling through the air. With a flick of his hand, his sword appeared in a burst of red flame.
"Enough," he muttered. And then he moved.
From a quiet rooftop nearby, Princess Han stood with her arms crossed, watching the chaos below. Her lips curved slightly, not quite a smile, more like mild amusement mixed with a hint of irritation. Her gaze followed him closely. Calm. Efficient. Dangerous. She had seen him fight before, but something about him now—older, sharper, colder—made her pulse quicken in ways she didn't appreciate.
She hadn't planned for things to go this far. Truly, she hadn't.
Shu Mingye.
She liked him. Really, she did. Since the first time she saw him back in Hanyue—young, serious, quiet, with eyes like winter frost. Of course, back then, he was just an exiled prince. No power. No title. No palace. Just a pair of angry shoulders and a dark cloud following him around. Her heart might have fluttered once or twice. She was only human. But she wasn't foolish enough to tie herself to a prince in exile. Feelings were nice and all, but influence was better.
But now? Now he was the King of Shulin. Young, powerful, feared, married to no one and still just as handsome. Maybe even more. Power really did wonders for a man's appearance, Princess Han mused. The sharpness of his jaw, the calm cold in his eyes, even the way he stood with that quiet authority.
She tilted her head, her earrings catching the light. Poor man. So alone in this big palace. She could have saved him from such tragic loneliness. Really, she could've. She had tried everything to get his attention. Kind smiles. Elegant appearances. Carefully timed "accidental" meetings. And he? He never even blinked her way. Not even once. So, she changed tactics. She made sure every bride sent to him mysteriously didn't live long enough to wear the wedding dress. Quiet deaths, silent poison. It was all so neat.
Until her.
That Princess Fu Yuxin.
Princess Han's pretty smile thinned.
She had sent assassins. That princess escaped. And Shu Mingye, he looked at that princess differently. The kind of look she had waited years to receive. He spoke to her softly, like she mattered. He held her hand. Hugged her. Even moved her courtyard next to his.
Princess Han's eye twitched. Next to his. Did he even realize how many "accidental" strolls she had taken past his courtyard in the past year? And this newcomer got her own courtyard upgrade in a matter of weeks? Worst of all… that princess wasn't just lucky. She was smart. That guard she sent? Fell right into her trap. By the time she realized it, Shu Mingye had already sent people to investigate.
Princess Han perfectly manicured nails dug into her sleeves. If he dug deeper…
Her stomach twisted. He'd find everything. Four years of planning. Four years of careful whispers, delicate poisons, and oh-so-neat cover-ups… gone. Just like that. And it was all starting to unravel because of one bride who refused to die properly.
Princess Han tilted her head, watching Shu Mingye slice through the puppet-like guards as easily as cutting weeds from a garden.
"Such a waste," she murmured softly. "You could've been mine."
Her plan had been simple, elegant even. Win Shu Mingye's heart, marry him, become queen then Shulin would be hers too. She didn't just want his affection. Affection was fragile. Power was forever.
Her brother was an idiot. A loud, vengeful, sword-swinging idiot. The kind who let revenge eat his brain and thought anger alone could conquer empires. Princess Han had long given up trying to talk sense into him. But thankfully, she had learned something valuable over the years: even fools could be useful. You just had to point them in the right direction and let them burn everything down.
With a combination of fake tears, trembling lips and borrowed prestige from her father's name, she had asked him to rescue her poor, innocent brother from imperial prison. And Shu Mingye actually agreed.
While Shu Mingye galloped out of Shulin, being all heroic and tragic, she stayed behind and used the precious time to prepare her stage. Set her pieces. Adjust the lighting. And now, as she stood watching chaos unfold at the training ground.
Blood. Screaming. Puppet-like guards twitching unnaturally under some hidden command.
"Perfect," she whispered to herself.
Her masterpiece was alive.
She had planned to wait until the Weeping Moon. A perfect night for betrayal. But time, as always, was not on her side. Shu Mingye had started to investigate. If he kept going, he would dig all the way to her carefully hidden truth. She couldn't let that happen. Not now. Not after everything.
The broken dolls thrashing in the training ground below weren't just mindless puppets. They were the result of something much older, much darker. Something no one in Shulin should've even known existed. She had found the technique by accident, tucked away in a dusty scroll in the ruins of an old, forgotten temple in Hanyue. Most people would've thought it was useless. A failed experiment from an overambitious cultivator.
The scrolls were packed with obsessive notes and creepy diagrams. Pages and pages of theories about bringing the dead back to life—replacing bones, swapping organs, stitching together meridians. The original researcher clearly didn't succeed. Every attempt ended in failure. But she wasn't trying to revive the dead. She just needed control. And from that angle, the old, creepy research was… promising.
With the help of Queen Shen, she took it further. Queen Shen was no saint, she was a supporter of the emperor and Shu Wenxu, and she had her own reasons for wanting Shu Mingye very much not alive. She backed her plan fully, even going as far as providing her with "materials" for testing. Street people no one would miss. A few prisoners here and there. And just some people.
Gruesome? Yes.
Ethical? Not even remotely.
Effective? Absolutely.
She had refined the technique until it was practically art. Now she could use her spiritual energy like invisible strings, pulling and twisting them into motion. Like the chaos unfolding in the training ground right now. But this was only the opening act. She had more pieces in play. Troops hidden in the northern palace, waiting for her signal. Queen Shen had quietly stationed soldiers along the border, ready to "assist" the moment Shu Mingye faltered. Shu Mingye's cultivation was high, and his guards were annoyingly competent.
She knew she couldn't take him down in a straight fight. One tiny crack in his perfect composure. One injury, one moment of weakness, that was all she needed to let the rest of her plan crash down on his head. She had to be patient.
"After all," she murmured, tilting her head as Shu Mingye sliced down another thrashing puppet below, "even kings can bleed."
One misstep on her part would ruin everything. But if she played her cards right… she wouldn't just become queen. She would own all of Shulin. And maybe, Shu Mingye too. Though she wasn't sure if she wanted him as a husband or as part of the furniture in her future throne room. Either way worked.