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

The August sky was so gloomy that it seemed to crush the entire Qingcheng. Last night's heavy rain had washed the city walls clean, leaving them shiny, and the bluestone roads were filled with muddy puddles.

Chu Ning stood at the city gate, wearing a plain white linen robe and a black cloth belt around his waist. His face was as pale as the black coffin behind him.

Raindrops dripped down the ends of his hair, and it was hard to tell whether they were lingering raindrops or suppressed tears.

"Let's go." His voice was as hoarse as sandpaper.

A team of about 300 black-armored cavalrymen lined up in neat formation, their horses treading restlessly on the muddy ground.

Sixteen strong men carried the nanmu coffin carved with coiled dragon patterns, and each step they took was extremely heavy.

The coffin was covered with the black royal flag of the Chu State, and the corners of the flag were fluttering in the morning breeze.

Jia Yu stepped forward and bowed deeply: "Your Majesty, the journey to the capital is long, please take care of yourself."

The hem of his official robe had long been soaked with mud and water, but he was completely unaware of it.

Ma Chao knelt on one knee, his armor clattering against the ground. "I've ordered the vanguard battalion to clear out the bandits along the way. We will ensure the safe arrival of Your Majesty and the coffins of Prince Zhao."

Chu Ning didn't look back, but just raised his hand and gently stroked the coffin.

There was still the coolness of rain on it, just like the warmth of his brother's hand when he last held it in his memory.

"My brother loved riding horses when he was alive."

He suddenly spoke, his voice so soft it was almost blown away by the wind: "Now I am trapped in this small space."

Upon hearing this, all the generals behind him lowered their heads and covered their faces.

King Chu Kuang of Zhao, the god of war who once took the heads of enemy generals in the midst of thousands of troops as easily as taking something out of a bag, now lies quietly in this cold coffin.

The hidden arrow soaked with the scorpion clan's deadly poison half a month ago not only took Chu Kuang's life, but also carved a scar that will never heal in the hearts of every Chu army soldier.

"Farewell, Your Majesty! Farewell, His Royal Highness Prince Zhao's heroic spirit!"

The roar of the three thousand soldiers caused the accumulated water on the city wall to fall down.

Chu Ning jumped onto his horse, his black cloak spreading out in the wind like a cloud hanging from the sky.

He took one last look at the towering walls of Qingcheng, where the arrow-shaped fighting spirit left behind by his brother's final battle was.

"Send a message to the army," he said to Jia Yu as he reined in his horse, "the day I return, the capital of Han will be a river of blood."

The convoy struggled forward in the mud, leaving deep grooves where the wheels passed, which were soon filled with rainwater.

Chu Ning always rode his horse to the right side of the coffin, as if he was still guarding his brother's safety.

The commander of the personal guards, Han Ye, tried to hold an umbrella for him several times, but was forced back by that sharp look.

Two days later, in Chang'an, Taiji Hall

In the imperial study on the east side of the Taiji Hall, a gilded animal-head incense burner spewed out green smoke from ambergris.

Li Shiming was leaning over a rosewood desk, reviewing memorials, his red pen hovering over the memorial on the "severe drought in Hexi".

Dusk deepened outside the window. The eunuchs carefully lit the twelve-branch bronze lamps, casting the emperor's shadow on the screen painted with "A Thousand Miles of Rivers and Mountains". The shadow swayed slightly with the candlelight, like a dormant tiger.

"Your Majesty, this is a happy occasion, a great happy occasion!"

Suddenly, hurried footsteps were heard outside the hall, and the golden brick floor was thudding under the deerskin boots of the officials.

Li Shiming frowned slightly - the only one in the court who could break into the imperial study without notifying the emperor was Changsun Wuji.

He deliberately let the red pen hang on the memorial for a moment longer before slowly putting it down: "Come in and tell me."

The bead curtain rustled, and Changsun Wuji rushed into the hall with the coolness of the autumn night.

The prime minister, who was always known for his calmness, even wore his official hat askew at this moment, and a strange blush appeared on his pale face.

He was about to salute when Li Shiming raised his hand to stop him: "Forget it. What happy event could make you lose your composure like this?"

"Express from the front line, eight hundred miles away!"

Changsun Wuji took out a thin bamboo tube from his sleeve, and the sealing wax on the copper seal was still intact.

"General Qin Qiong's pigeon message has just been delivered to the Ministry of War. I have personally examined it - Chu Kuang is dead!"

With a click, the red pen fell on the memorial, splashing a few spots of scarlet.

Li Shiming stood up suddenly, and his black dragon robe overturned the teacup on the table, and the green tea soup spread all over the "Hexi Tuntian Ce".

"Dead?" Li Shiming's voice suddenly became unusually soft, as if confirming an absurd dream.

When he took the bamboo tube, Li Shiming noticed that his fingertips were trembling slightly.

When he unfolded the thin letter, Qin Qiong's familiar handwriting jumped into his eyes: "Chu Kuang died despite ineffective treatment!"

"Didn't they say Sun Simiao was rescued?"

Li Shiming suddenly slammed the secret letter on the table, causing the wolf-hair brush on the pen holder to vibrate.

"A few days ago, the secret guard reported that the old doctor was detoxifying Chu Kuang!"

Changsun Wuji hurriedly explained, "Your Majesty, Sun Simiao was kidnapped by the Scorpion Tribe and delayed for several days, which caused the poison to spread throughout his body."

"According to the secret report from the secret guards, Chu Ning vomited blood and fainted the day before yesterday. Now the entire Chu army is filled with evil fire."

The candle flame suddenly burst into a spark.

Li Shiming walked to the window and looked at the moon that was almost full on the palace wall.

"Send it to the commander of the secret guards."

In just half a cup of tea, a dark figure knelt silently behind the screen.

Li Shiming stroked the dragon-patterned jade pendant on his waist: "Have you confirmed Chu Kuang's body?"

"Your Majesty, the spies in Qingcheng saw it with their own eyes."

The shadow's voice seemed to come from underground: "This is absolutely correct. Our people saw Chu Kuang's body being placed in the coffin."

Li Shiming suddenly chuckled, and his laughter could even be heard by the imperial guards outside the palace.

As he turned around, his eyes flashed with brilliance. "Immediately send the Minister of the Honglu Temple with ten pairs of white jades and a hundred bushels of East China Sea pearls to the State of Chu to offer condolences. Also, order the Qin Qiong army to retreat thirty miles—no, fifty miles!"

Zhang Sun Wuji was shocked when he heard this: "Your Majesty, what are you doing..."

"Chun Ning is ten times more vicious than his brother."

Li Shiming sneered and said, "Issue an order to all prefectures and cities to impose a curfew from today and recall all merchant caravans in Chu."

"That madman is now a walking fire, burning anyone who touches him."

Suddenly, there was a loud thunder outside the window, and the autumn rain that had been brewing all day finally poured down.

Only then did Changsun Wuji realize that His Majesty was guarding against retaliation from the State of Chu.

Both the troops on the front line and the caravans must be arranged in advance.

At this moment, Li Shiming suddenly changed the subject and said, "Tell the Cui family of Qinghe and the Wang family of Taiyuan that if they cannot gather 500,000 dan of military rations within three days, I will send the Yulin Army to their estates to borrow grain."

"There are other noble families as well, and every one of them must come out!"

"In addition, our dynasty will continue to recruit 200,000 soldiers!"

This made Zhangsun Wuji's face change slightly: "Your Majesty, I'm afraid the aristocratic families will not agree."

Li Shiming sneered and said, "They can't disagree. If they don't agree, then let them see what happened to those aristocratic families after the other five dynasties were conquered!"

"If they don't want to be like these people, then they should donate silver and grain!"

Zhang Sun Wuji's heart was shaken, and he said in a deep voice: "Your Majesty, don't worry, I will do it right away!"

He understood that perhaps the real war was about to come!