Nine dragons fight for the throne, I don't want to sit on this throne

Wu Zhao's dragon boots stepped on the snow-covered jade steps outside the palace, leaving a series of deep footprints.

The cold wind blew her bright yellow dragon robe, making it rustle.

The attendants followed from a distance, not daring to approach. The empress's back looked particularly lonely in the falling snow, yet it also revealed an inviolable majesty.

Inside the Golden Palace, the smell of blood still lingered.

The bodies of more than twenty ministers were lying on the ground, and their blood condensed into dark red ice crystals on the gold bricks.

The flame in the charcoal basin in the hall flickered, casting everyone's shadows on the wall, swaying like ghosts.

Prime Minister Di Ying, who had remained silent all this time, finally took action.

The old minister, who was nearly sixty years old, straightened his purple and gold official robe and walked slowly to the center of the hall.

His footsteps were light, but they made all the ministers present hold their breath involuntarily.

The sound of falling snow outside the hall seemed particularly harsh in this solemn atmosphere.

"My lords."

Di Ying's voice was not loud, but it carried unquestionable majesty.

He looked around, his gaze lingering briefly on each corpse: "If anyone dares to spread what happened today—"

He paused, then gently kicked Pei Yan's still-warm body with the tip of his boot: "This is the end."

The ministers were as silent as cicadas.

The legs of several young officials were shaking uncontrollably, and the hems of their official uniforms were soaked with cold sweat.

The tablet in the hand of a Hanlin scholar fell to the ground with a "click", causing an echo in the silent hall.

"Di... Prime Minister Di..."

The Minister of Rites trembled as he stepped out of the queue, his graying beard trembling. "Then... then what should we do next?"

As he spoke, his eyes unconsciously glanced at the body of his old friend who had died by hitting his head against the pillar, and his Adam's apple rolled up and down.

Di Ying's eyes swept across the corpses in the hall and he said in a deep voice, "According to His Majesty's order, all the ministers will be buried with honor, posthumously awarded titles, and their families will be treated well."

As he spoke, he pulled out a list he had already prepared from his sleeve: "This is the posthumous award proposal, please review it."

At this time, the Minister of War bravely asked, "Prime Minister Di, how can we explain to the people of the world the sudden deaths of more than 20 ministers?"

His voice gradually dropped, until it was almost a whisper. "You can't say they all committed suicide, right?"

The hall fell into dead silence again.

The north wind blew in through the cracks in the temple door, causing the candlelight to flicker and stretching the shadows of the people.

Several ministers spontaneously wrapped their official robes tightly, but they could not dispel the chill that surged from the bottom of their hearts.

Di Ying closed his eyes and pondered for a moment, then suddenly opened them with a gleam in his eyes: "Announce to the public that assassins from the Tang and Han dynasties have infiltrated today, intending to assassinate our important officials and frame the Chu State!"

His voice suddenly rose: "Fortunately, General Li Junxian led the imperial guards to arrive in time and killed all the assassins, but more than twenty ministers still died!"

Upon hearing this, all the ministers looked at each other in bewilderment.

Although this statement is far-fetched, it is indeed the most reliable excuse under the current circumstances.

The Minister of Justice couldn't help but exclaim in admiration: "Prime Minister Di, this is a brilliant idea! This way, we can not only explain the deaths of the gentlemen, but also arouse the hatred of the military and civilians towards the Tang and Han dynasties. Killing two birds with one stone!"

Only Di Ying himself knew that this excuse was something he had conspired with Wu Zhao three days ago.

He looked at the heavy snow falling outside the hall and sighed in his heart: Pei Yan, oh Pei Yan, if you had known this would happen, would you still be so stubborn?

Li Junxian strode forward, his armor clanging. "Someone come!"

He gave the order, and the soldiers waiting outside the palace immediately rushed in: "Send the remains of the gentlemen back to their respective residences. Remember..."

His gaze swept across every soldier like a knife: "What Prime Minister Di said just now is the truth. If anyone dares to say anything more, don't blame me for being ruthless!"

"I understand!" The soldiers clasped their fists in response.

The soldiers began to carry the bodies swiftly, and the heavy footsteps echoed in the hall.

At this moment, a young eunuch ran in in a panic and whispered something in Di Ying's ear.

Di Ying frowned and waved his hand to signal everyone to leave: "Everyone, go back to your residence and rest first. Tomorrow's morning court will be held as usual."

After the ministers retreated tremblingly, he turned to Li Junxian and said, "General, representatives of the eight major families are requesting an audience outside the palace gate."

Li Junxian sneered: "You are well-informed."

He patted the sword at his waist and said, "Do you want me to take action?"

Di Ying shook his head: "No, Your Majesty has his own arrangements."

He looked towards the direction of Fengyi Palace and said meaningfully: "This drama has just begun."

At this moment, the charcoal fire was burning brightly in Fengyi Palace.

Chu Ning leaned on the couch, playing with a luminous cup in his hand.

The wine in the glass shone like a gem under the candlelight, and the incense in the hall was curling, forming a sharp contrast with the bloody and murderous atmosphere outside.

When Wu Zhao pushed the door open and walked in, Chu Ning clearly felt the coldness from her.

The empress's face was paler than the snow outside the palace, and there was an unbreakable gloom between her brows.

"Come, try this wine." Chu Ning handed over the wine glass with a smile.

Wu Zhao didn't answer the call. She walked straight to the window and looked at the snow falling heavier outside.

Her fingers unconsciously stroked the carvings on the window frame, and her knuckles turned white from the effort.

Chu Ning didn't care and took a sip of his drink. "Why? Do you regret it?"

He put down his wine glass, his voice suddenly becoming serious: "Don't forget, it was you who decided to reveal Xiuning's identity, and it was you who chose to use this method to intimidate the ministers."

"I know!"

Wu Zhao turned around suddenly, and the dragon robe brought up a gust of wind, blowing the candle on the table.

A trace of pain flashed in her eyes: "But Pei Yan is a veteran of three dynasties after all, and there are also those ministers..."

Chu Ning stood up and walked slowly to Wu Zhao.

He was half a head taller than the Empress, but at this moment he lowered his head slightly and looked directly into her eyes: "Those who achieve great things don't care about trivial matters. If they use a gentler approach, they may indeed survive."

"But when the Great Zhou is incorporated into the Chu State, these people will definitely become the biggest obstacle."

He reached out and brushed the snowflakes off Wu Zhao's shoulders, his voice softening: "You chose to cut the Gordian knot because you knew it was the most effective way."

Wu Zhao was silent for a long time, finally took the glass of wine and drank it all.

The heat of the alcohol burned from my throat to my stomach, but it couldn't dispel the chill in my heart.

She recounted in detail everything that happened in the Golden Palace, and her voice trembled slightly when she mentioned Pei Yan's suicide.

When he mentioned the ministers who died one after another, his fingertips unconsciously pinched into his palms.

After hearing this, Chu Ning gently placed Wu Zhao's head on his shoulder and said, "After this incident, no one in the court will dare to oppose your decision."

He threaded his fingers through the empress's cascading black hair. "Next, we just need to deal with the eight major families and we can rest easy."

"Don't underestimate them." Wu Zhao suddenly looked up, and her eyes regained some sharpness.

"The eight great families control 80% of the taxes and trade routes of the five great powers. Their private armies total over 50,000! At least one-third of the ministers in the court are connected to them!"

Chu Ning laughed loudly upon hearing this, her laughter full of confidence: "My Queen, you have resolved the obstacles in the court, and the rest is left to me."

Wu Zhao frowned and suddenly asked, "What are you going to do?"

Chu Ning smiled mysteriously: "You will know when the time comes."