CHAPTER 231: YOU SURE YOU ARE READY FOR THIS?

Midnight cloaked the palace in a heavy hush. The walls of the once-grand court, now battered and cracked, loomed over the encampment where Hua Jing and the others waited. Torches flickered in the cold night breeze, and the quiet murmur of soldiers moving around the perimeter lent the air a muted tension. They were vigilant, their swords glinting under the lantern glow.

Hua Jing stood still, her red robes a vivid slash of color amid the sea of armored men. She kept her gaze locked on the dark horizon. Though the battle had ended hours ago, the war was far from over. The traitors who had tried to steal the empire still lurked in the shadows.

She refused to let her mind drift to Zhao Yan’s still body in the physician’s care. Every time the thought of him flickered across her heart, she felt the ground slipping away beneath her feet. She had to stay anchored. She had to keep her focus on what had to be done.

Most of the imperial consorts had already fled, seeking shelter in distant family estates and hometowns. Their once-lavish rooms were left in shambles, their silken robes and perfumes scattered like dust. Hua Jing couldn’t find it in herself to care. Let them run, let them vanish. Their loyalty had always been to comfort, never to the empire.

The other royals who had remained behind—cousins of the late emperor, distant uncles and aunts—huddled within the inner chambers. They watched the soldiers from behind carved screens, their faces pale with fear. Some had tried to flee but were dragged back by loyal guards. The empire was being born anew, and there was no place for those who had always watched and waited to choose the stronger side.

In the midst of it all, Hua Jing held herself still. She was searching for the man who had done this—the one who had fired the arrow that struck Zhao Yan down. She had seen his face, just for a moment, and that was enough. She would remember it to her last breath.

The night was cold, a biting wind cutting through her bloodied robes. But she didn’t flinch.

Wei Ling approached her, his steps careful, his face shadowed with fatigue. He stopped at her side and said quietly, "We’ve confirmed it. The traitors have regrouped near the south wall. They’re cornered but still dangerous."

She nodded once, her jaw set. "Good. We will finish this before dawn."

Wei Ling glanced at her, a flicker of worry in his eyes, but he didn’t argue. He had served Zhao Yan since the prince was a boy—he knew better than to question the fury in Hua Jing’s eyes.

He stepped back, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

As she gathered her resolve, a murmur of movement caught her attention. A figure approached from the outer darkness, cloaked in white, moving with quiet grace. Hua Jing’s brow furrowed as she recognized the Second Consort—Xiao Li.

Xiao Li stepped into the lantern light, her hood pulled low. She was always different from the others—never driven by envy or petty ambitions. Her beauty was simple, her presence quiet, and for once Hua Jing felt a faint relief at the sight of her.

"Your Grace," Xiao Li said softly, her voice like silk on the cold night air. "May I speak with you?"

Hua Jing inclined her head. "Of course. What brings you here?"

Xiao Li hesitated, glancing around at the guards and soldiers before stepping closer. "I had to know... is he still alive?"

Hua Jing’s breath caught, but she forced her voice to remain steady. "He lives," she said. "But he is still in the physician’s hands."

Xiao Li closed her eyes, relief flickering across her face. "I see." She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders. "I had to come. I know we were never close, but he was always kind to me—always honest. I couldn’t leave without knowing."

Hua Jing studied her for a long moment. She had always wondered at Xiao Li’s quiet strength—how she had managed to remain untouched by the palace’s cruel games. "You have always been the only one who never tried to tear me down," Hua Jing said quietly. "Thank you for that."

Xiao Li’s lips curved in a faint smile. "I had no reason to. I never wanted the prince’s heart—I only wanted peace. And he was good to me in that." Her gaze shifted to the cracked marble courtyard. "I suppose none of us will know peace until this is finished."

Hua Jing’s expression hardened. "It will be. The traitors have nowhere to run. And the man who shot Zhao Yan... I will end him myself."

A moment of silence fell between them, the cold wind swirling around their feet. Then Xiao Li reached out and touched Hua Jing’s arm lightly. "Be careful," she said. "For all our sakes."

Hua Jing nodded. "You should return to safety. There is nothing more to be done here."

Xiao Li inclined her head, her eyes somber. "I will. But... thank you, Your Grace. For protecting us all." She turned and vanished into the shadows as quietly as she had come, leaving Hua Jing alone once more.

Hua Jing let out a long breath, her hands clenching at her sides. She could hear the faint sobs of some of the younger royals, the quiet prayers of those who had never known war until tonight. She ignored them. Her mind was a blade honed on the memory of that arrow, of the man who had dared to take everything from her.

She turned back towards the soldiers gathered in the courtyard. Wei Ling was speaking with a small group of trusted men, his voice low and firm. When he saw her coming, he straightened and nodded once.

"It’s time," he said. "We’ll move out before dawn. The traitors won’t expect a strike so soon."

Hua Jing’s lips curved in a cold smile. "Good. Let them be unprepared."

Wei Ling met her gaze, his eyes searching hers. "You’re sure you’re ready for this?"