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

Chu Ning stared blankly at the palm of his hand slipping away. The knuckles that were originally broad and strong had now completely lost their warmth.

A loud thunder suddenly exploded outside the window, and pale lightning streaked across the night sky, illuminating his pale face.

The August rainstorm came without warning. The raindrops as big as beans hit the window frames, making crackling sounds, as if the heaven and earth were mourning the fall of this hero.

"Brother Wang!"

Chu Ning trembled as he held Chu Kuang's hand. Calluses still remained on his palm from years of holding knives, but he would never be able to hold his hand back with such strength again.

A tearing pain exploded from his chest, and he suddenly raised his head and let out a heart-wrenching roar:

"Brother Wang!"

Before he finished speaking, a mouthful of blood spurted out, splashing on Chu Kuang's clothes, spreading a glaring scarlet color.

Chu Ning’s eyes went dark and his body fell straight backwards.

"His Majesty!"

Although Ma Chao still had a bandage on his left arm, he rushed forward at an astonishing speed.

He stretched out his right arm and caught Chu Ning's falling body steadily.

Sun Simiao's expression suddenly changed, and he quickly stepped forward to feel the pulse: "Help His Majesty to the next room!"

Thunder roared outside the house. Several guards rushed in in the rain and hurriedly carried Chu Ning to the next room.

Sun Simiao took out the golden needle, burned it quickly over the candle flame, and then accurately inserted it into the Ren Zhong, Hegu and other important acupoints.

Fine beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, and the golden needle trembled slightly on Chu Ning's pale face.

"Cough cough..."

About a quarter of an hour later, Chu Ning finally woke up.

He just opened his eyes and was about to struggle to get up, but Sun Simiao held him down: "Your Majesty is furious and your blood is flowing backwards. You must not move rashly!"

"Let go!" Chu Ning's voice was hoarse like sandpaper rubbing against the ground: "I want to go see my brother..."

"Lord Jia has ordered the preparation of a nanmu coffin." Sun Simiao interrupted in a deep voice, "The body of His Royal Highness Prince Zhao is being properly placed and will be ready to return to the capital soon."

These words were like a bucket of cold water poured on Chu Ning's head.

He clenched the bed sheet tightly, his knuckles turning bluish-white, and after a long while, he squeezed out a few words from between his teeth:

"General Ma Chao."

"The general is here!"

"Call all the generals to discuss matters immediately." Chu Ning's voice was as cold as ice. "I want to see everyone in half an hour."

"According to the order!"

Ma Chao clasped his fists, accepted the order, turned around and rushed into the rainstorm.

His hoarse voice of command was heard in the rain, and soon the entire military camp was in motion, with torches forming a sea of scarlet light in the rain.

In the pouring rain, the generals walked through the puddles and rushed to the temporary meeting hall one after another.

They still had their armor on, and rain kept dripping down their armor, forming streams on the bluestone ground.

When Chu Ning walked out of the side hall with a gloomy face, everyone knelt on one knee in unison: "Your Majesty!"

"No gift."

Chu Ning raised his hand and said in a cold voice, "I'm sure you all know that King Zhao... has passed away."

Although they had heard it before, when the emperor officially confirmed the news, there were still gasps in the hall.

Young General Zhao Fei pounded the pillar fiercely, sending sawdust flying. "It's all those beasts of the Scorpion Tribe! I beg your command to lead the cavalry and crush the Scorpion Tribe!"

"And the Tang Dynasty!" Lieutenant General Zhou Jiang's eyes were red. "If Li Shiming hadn't secretly colluded, how could the King of Zhao be like this!"

"Your Majesty, please send troops!"

"The last general is willing to be a pioneer!"

Seeing that the crowd was outraged, Chu Ning suddenly slammed the table.

The rosewood table cracked open, causing the teacups to jingle.

"Prince Zhao had a final word before his death," he said, emphasizing each word: "He wanted me to conquer the Han Dynasty first!"

The whole hall was in an uproar.

An old general stroked his beard thoughtfully, "King Zhao is a man of foresight. The land bordering the Han Dynasty and our dynasty is flat. If we eliminate the troublesome situation first, our army will have nothing to worry about!"

"Preach my will."

Chu Ning stood up, his silhouette in the shadows like a sword drawn from its sheath. "Leave 50,000 elite troops here to contain the Tang army. The rest of the troops will immediately march to the western front and be under the command of General Han Xing."

"I obey your command!" The generals clasped their fists and accepted the order, their armors clanging.

At this time, Jia Yu hurried into the hall holding an oil-paper umbrella, a piece of letter peeked out from his sleeve: "Your Majesty, Lord Xun Yu has sent a letter by carrier pigeon, asking for instructions on how to deal with the remaining Wei soldiers who surrendered."

"Surrender?"

Chu Ning's eyes flashed coldly: "If it weren't for these bastards who kidnapped Divine Doctor Sun and delayed his treatment..."

He slammed the teacup to pieces and said, "Send a message to Xun Yu: Drain the tendons and skin all the prisoners, hang their heads on the gate, and throw their bodies to the dogs!"

Another bolt of lightning struck, illuminating Chu Ning's ferocious face.

He turned toward the stormy night sky outside the window and said, "Tell the Imperial Guard to return to the capital immediately and order the Minister of Rites, Deng Hongwen, to prepare the funeral in accordance with imperial standards."

Amidst the sound of rain, his voice was exceptionally clear: "I will personally escort the coffin back to the capital."

The generals were in awe.

They knew that this rainstorm washed away not only the bloodstains, but also the end of an era.

When the rain stops, the land of Kyushu will be ushered in even more violent storms and bloody rain.

Chu Ning dragged his heavy steps back to the inner room. The candlelight flickered in the stormy night, stretching his shadow longer and shorter.

Sun Simiao had already been waiting at the desk, holding a bowl of steaming medicine in his hand.

"Your Majesty, please administer the medicine."

Sun Simiao bent forward, and the bitter smell rising from the medicine bowl was particularly pungent in the humid air.

Chu Ning glanced at the dark medicinal juice and frowned: "No need."

Sun Simiao did not retreat, but stepped forward: "Your Majesty's health is the most important thing. If His Royal Highness Prince Zhao were still alive, he would certainly not want to see Your Majesty ruining yourself like this."

He paused, his voice lowered a bit: "Besides... to avenge King Zhao, Your Majesty must take care of himself.

These words were like a sharp knife, accurately piercing the most painful spot in Chu Ning's heart.

He suddenly looked up, his eyes bloodshot, but was slightly stunned when he saw Sun Simiao's tired face.

This miracle doctor, who is over sixty years old, now has dark circles under his eyes, and it is obvious that he has not slept well for many days.

After a long silence, Chu Ning finally reached out and took the bowl of medicine.

As the medicine entered his throat, the bitterness instantly spread to every part of his body, but it was not even one ten-thousandth of the pain in his heart.

"Divine Doctor Sun." Chu Ning put down the empty bowl and said in a hoarse voice, "Follow me back to the court to attend Brother Zhao Wang's funeral."

Upon hearing this, Sun Simiao immediately knelt on the ground and said, "Your humble servant... Your humble servant failed to rescue His Highness Prince Zhao, which is a capital crime. Your Majesty's refusal to punish me is already a great favor. How dare I return to the court to attend Prince Zhao's funeral?"

"enough."

Chu Ning raised his hand to interrupt: "If you hadn't been kidnapped, I believe the result would not be like this. What happened to King Zhao is not your fault."

Sun Simiao's body trembled slightly as he lay on the ground. After a long while, he whispered, "Thank you, Your Majesty, for your forgiveness."

Chu Ning closed his eyes tiredly and waved his hand: "Go away, I want to be alone for a while."

Sun Simiao bowed deeply and tiptoed out of the room.

When the door closed, a drop of rain fell along the eaves and splashed on the window frame, like someone's unshed tears.

Chu Ning sat alone at the desk, looking at the flickering candlelight, and in a trance he seemed to see that heroic smiling face again.

Outside the window, the rain is still pouring down.

But a bigger storm is coming!