The prince loves me like his life, but I force him to rebel

"Yes, I am your fourteenth uncle." Cen Yu's tone was calm with a hint of vicissitudes. His eyes stayed on Sima Yao for a moment, as if he wanted to see through him to the past. "Over the years, I have been hiding my identity, just waiting for an opportunity. Now, I appear in front of you, wanting to lend you a hand."

Sima Yao's lips trembled slightly: "Fourteenth Uncle, why are you..."

Cen Yu sighed and said, "I was forced to leave because of the palace struggle. I have been observing the situation secretly all these years. Now, I see that you are in trouble, but you still hold on to that innocent belief. I really can't bear it."

Sima Yao fell into deep thought, his eyes wandering over Cen Yu, his heart full of contradictions.

Cen Yu continued, "My nephew, the struggle for power in this palace has never stopped. If you don't want to become someone else's pawn, you must become stronger."

Sima Yao raised his head, a trace of confusion flashed in his eyes: "But, uncle, can fighting for power against one's conscience really bring peace to the world?"

Cen Yu stood up, walked to Sima Yao, and patted him on the shoulder: "Kid, power is not all evil. The key lies in how to use it. As long as your original intention is for the benefit of the people of the world, why bother with the means?"

Sima Yao remained silent, his heart was struggling fiercely, not knowing what to choose...

In Sima Yao's memory, the battle for the throne was extremely brutal. It was a dark history stained with blood and conspiracy, and every detail was like a sharp blade, carving deep scars in his heart.

That fight seemed like an endless nightmare, full of cruelty and blood. There was no warmth of family affection between the brothers anymore, only a life-and-death struggle for power. Various forces competed secretly, and conspiracies and tricks emerged one after another. Although the Fourteenth Uncle was still young, he was plotted against by other uncles. After his legs were crippled, he lingered on and passed away a few days later.

How could he still be standing in front of him alive? But judging from his current appearance of being in his thirties, his age was comparable to that of the Fourteenth Emperor's uncle.

"As far as I remember, the Fourteenth Uncle has already..." Sima Yao spoke cautiously, his eyes showing caution and inquiry, hesitating to speak. His hands unconsciously clenched the corners of his clothes, which were crumpled into a ball in his hands, with deep wrinkles, showing his extreme tension. His voice trembled slightly, as if every word was carrying a heavy burden, squeezed out of his throat with difficulty.

"That's right. They all thought I was dead. But I was lucky. Someone saved me." Cen Yu did not hide it. There was a trace of pain and resentment in his eyes. The pain seemed to be deeply imprinted in the depths of his soul and could never be erased. His eyes became deep and distant, as if he had returned to the past full of blood and conspiracy. The pain was like a dark cloud, making his eyes gloomy and depressed. "If it hadn't been for the conspiracy, your father might not have been able to sit on the supreme throne." His voice was low and depressed, as if every word carried a heavy weight, which was the release of years of resentment. Every syllable seemed to be telling the injustice and misery of the year, and every tone was full of pain and helplessness in his heart.

"You mean, my father..." Sima Yao was shocked, as if struck by a thunderbolt. His body trembled involuntarily, and his face instantly lost color and turned pale as paper. He had always believed that his father did not participate in the tragic struggle for the throne, but was pushed to the throne because of good luck. But now, listening to what the people involved said, it seems that it is not the case as recorded in history books. His eyes were wide open, full of shock and disbelief.

His thoughts instantly fell into chaos, and everything he believed in the past seemed to begin to collapse at this moment. Those beautiful images of his father, those perceptions of family honor and justice, all crumbled in Cen Yu's words. His heart seemed to be gnawed by countless ants, painful and confused.

"You mean, my father..." Sima Yao muttered to himself, his voice so low that it was almost inaudible. His lips trembled slightly, and his eyes were full of confusion and struggle. He tried to find a reason to deny Cen Yu's words, but found that he had no way to refute. The beliefs he had always relied on, the respect and trust he had for his father, were hit unprecedentedly at this moment.

"You mean, Father..." Sima Yao repeated this sentence again, with a hint of desperate pleading in his voice, hoping that Cen Yu could take back what he had just said and tell him that it was all just a misunderstanding. However, Cen Yu's expression was extremely firm, making him understand that this was not a joke, nor a misunderstanding.

Sima Yao's mind kept flashing back to the past, his father's teachings, his family's glory, the court's etiquette, everything seemed so beautiful and illusory. His eyes began to turn red, tears welled up in his eyes, but he stubbornly refused to let them fall.

"Father, he..." Sima Yao's voice had become hoarse, and his throat seemed to be blocked by something, and he could no longer speak a complete sentence. He had always believed that his father ascended the throne by virtue of justice and talent, but he never thought that there might be such a dark truth hidden behind it.

He had always thought that his father had not participated in the tragic struggle for the throne, and was only pushed to the throne by luck. But now, listening to what the people involved said, it seemed that it was not as recorded in the history books. His face turned pale in an instant, like a piece of white paper, without any blood. His eyes were full of confusion and chaos, and the chaos was like a tangled mess that could not be sorted out. His mind was blank, as if the whole world was turned upside down in an instant.

"Fourteenth Uncle, if it is true as you said, then why is all this happening?" Sima Yao's voice was full of confusion and pain. He looked at Cen Yu, hoping to get an answer from him. His eyes were full of pleading, like a lost child looking for a ray of light in the darkness.

Cen Yu closed his eyes slightly, and after a moment of silence, he said: "The struggle for power has always been cruel and ruthless. In front of the supreme throne, family affection and morality may become insignificant." His voice was filled with deep helplessness and vicissitudes, as if he had seen through everything in the world.

Sima Yao bit his lip tightly, frowning. "But, but that's my father, I always thought he..." His voice was choked with sobs, tears welled up in his eyes. The tears flickered, but never fell. His heart was struggling, resisting this cruel fact.

Cen Yu looked at Sima Yao, a trace of pity flashed in his eyes. "Nephew, I understand your pain, but the truth is often not as good as we expect." His tone softened a little, but still revealed an unchangeable firmness.

Sima Yao was silent.

indeed.

He always hoped for fairness and justice.

But when it came to the fact that his own father might be on a side that was not so fair and just, he was speechless.

Even though that father didn't love her that much, he was still her biological father after all.

"What evidence do you have to prove that you are my fourteenth uncle?" Sima Yao stared at Cen Yu and asked. His eyes were full of doubt and vigilance, and they were like two sharp arrows, shooting straight at Cen Yu. Although his voice was steady, the slightly trembling ending still revealed his inner uneasiness. Sima Yao's hands unconsciously clenched into fists, and his body leaned forward slightly, as if he was ready to deal with possible dangers at any time. His heartbeat seemed particularly clear in this silent room, and his thoughts were intertwined like a tangled mess.

Cen Yu smiled slightly and opened the folding fan again, his movements were neither hurried nor slow, the friction between the fan bones and the fan surface made a subtle sound, which was particularly clear in this quiet room. The sound seemed to be the echo of history, with a mysterious charm. Cen Yu's face was calm and composed, as if he had anticipated Sima Yao's doubts. His eyes were deep and calm, looking directly into Sima Yao's suspicious eyes.

Sima Yao looked at the folding fan seriously, he knew there was a mystery hidden in it. It seemed that many secrets would be revealed from this folding fan. His eyes were focused and sharp, not missing any details on the fan. His breathing became rapid, and beads of sweat oozed from his forehead, as if this folding fan carried the key to his fate.

Cen Yu pointed at the seal and said slowly, "My nephew, look, this is my father's seal." The lines on the seal are delicate and unique, as if telling of past glory and nobility. Every line on the seal is carved very finely, as if it was carved with a knife of time, exuding an ancient and solemn atmosphere. The pattern on the seal is a soaring phoenix, the texture of its feathers is clearly visible, and the phoenix's eyes are bright, as if overlooking everything in the world. The phoenix's posture is lifelike, as if it is about to flap its wings and fly high at any time, showing an unparalleled majesty and domineering.

Then, Cen Yu gently turned the fan over, and in the inconspicuous corner of the other side, there was a line of very small words. He brought the fan close to Sima Yao, and said in a low and solemn voice: "To the fourteenth son Heng. This is written by your royal grandfather himself. Every turn and every pause in the handwriting is full of your royal grandfather's preference and expectations for your fourteenth uncle." Cen Yu's eyes revealed nostalgia for the past, and his voice became a little hoarse, as if he was immersed in those distant memories. Although the line of small words was tiny, every stroke was vigorous and powerful, revealing the royal demeanor and style.

Sima Yao finished reading, but remained silent. There was still a hint of hesitation in his eyes, and his thoughts were turning rapidly. His eyes moved back and forth between the line of small characters and the seal, trying to find a flaw in them. His brain was working rapidly, recalling the various objects and handwritings he had seen in the palace, trying to verify everything in front of him with the details in his memory. His brows were furrowed, and the wrinkles on his forehead became more and more obvious. The doubts in his heart were like a fog that could not be dissipated for a long time.

Cen Yu seemed to have anticipated his reaction and took out a jade pendant from his waist. The jade pendant exuded a warm luster in his hand, as if telling the story of the years. "This is Qingtian jade, which comes from the same raw stone as the one on your father's body. It was given to us sons by your grandfather as a gift of adulthood." His voice was filled with some reminiscence and emotion. The color of the jade pendant was like the first ray of sunlight in the morning shining on the green lake, warm and soft. The shape of the jade pendant was round and smooth, and the lines were smooth and natural, as if it was made by nature.

Sima Yao took the jade pendant and examined it carefully. This jade pendant was indeed very similar to the one his father had worn all year round. It was as delicate as fat, with a warm and soft color and a natural and smooth texture. If it were not a piece of jade, it would be difficult to make such a high degree of consistency. His fingers gently stroked the jade pendant, feeling the slightly cool and smooth touch, and his heart was still weighing it. The carving on the jade pendant was delicate and meticulous, a blooming lotus with layers of petals, lifelike. Each petal was carved so delicately that it seemed as if one could smell the fragrance of the lotus.

"Then what do you want me to do for you?" Sima Yao raised his head and looked directly at Cen Yu, his voice firm. At this moment, although he was full of doubts, he had decided to find out. His eyes no longer had the initial panic, but were replaced by a firmness and determination. His eyes were like cold stars, flashing with a resolute light.

"I just said that I want you to ascend the throne." Cen Yu looked at Sima Yao firmly, his tone unquestionable. There was a kind of fanatical flame burning in his eyes, as if this goal was his lifelong pursuit. His expression was serious and solemn, as if he was talking about a matter of life and death.

Sima Yao was shocked, and an expression of disbelief appeared on his face. "Ascending to the throne? How can this be easy! The power in the palace is complicated, and all parties are secretly competing. How can I stand out in this chaos?" There was a hint of helplessness and self-mockery in his voice. His eyes became dim, as if he was suffocated by the many difficulties in reality.

Cen Yu took a step forward and held Sima Yao's shoulders tightly. "My nephew, you have the ability and the qualifications. As long as you are willing, I will do my best to assist you and remove all obstacles for you." His eyes were full of expectation and encouragement. He exerted a little force with his hands, as if he wanted to convey his determination to Sima Yao.

Sima Yao broke free from Cen Yu's hand and took a few steps back. "Uncle, this matter is of great importance. Let me think about it again." His eyes were full of contradictions and struggles. His steps staggered a little, as if the inner struggle made him lose his balance.

Cen Yu sighed. "Nephew, time is running out. We can't hesitate any longer. If we don't seize the opportunity, I'm afraid you and I will be doomed." There was a hint of urgency in his tone. His brows were furrowed, and his face was full of worry.

Sima Yao closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Uncle, even if I am interested, where should I start?" There was a hint of confusion in his voice. His heart was like a turbulent sea, full of anxiety and confusion.