Rebirth: Phoenix Riding the Ninth Heaven

Shen Zhenguo stood alone at the palace window, gazing at the distant sky, his thoughts surging like a surging tide. He recalled his journey from an ignorant boy to the ruler of a nation, a journey filled with countless setbacks and thorns. Each step was so difficult, like dancing on the edge of a knife.

He couldn't help but think of his mother, a gentle, kind, strong, and brave woman. She had endured countless untold hardships to protect him. The thought of this pierced Shen Zhenguo's heart, as if it were being pierced by thousands of needles. Yet, even in the face of so much hardship, his mother remained faithful to him, offering him endless love and support.

But now, having ascended the throne and wielded supreme power, he began to feel uneasy. He couldn't help but ask himself, "Can I still trust anyone in this world?" He knew that people's hearts were unpredictable, especially within the palace, where the temptations of power and profit were everywhere.

While he firmly believed his mother would never harm him, he wasn't sure his sons would maintain the same pure affection. After all, there was only one throne, and history was filled with examples of fathers and sons turning against each other in the struggle for it. Whenever Shen Zhenguo thought of this, a chill ran down his spine.

Over the years, many had counseled him against trusting anyone easily, even those closest to him. Initially, he had dismissed these words, but as time passed, and after experiencing betrayal and conspiracy, he gradually understood their deeper meaning. Now, these words of advice reverberated in his mind, causing him to fall into deep contemplation...

Shin Jin-guk has experienced very little fatherly love in his life. Growing up in a complex and cold environment, he has never truly experienced the deep, warm care and love of a father. However, at this moment, facing his own son, he felt an unprecedented urge deep within him - he decided to try to trust this child for once.

Despite his remaining doubts and concerns, Shin Jin-guk knew that without trust, the relationship between father and son would only grow further apart. Therefore, even if he couldn't trust his son wholeheartedly, he had to be prepared for both scenarios. On the one hand, he was willing to temporarily put aside past prejudices and listen to his son's words; on the other hand, he wouldn't blindly trust his son and remained cautious, just in case.

Shen Zhenguo deeply understands the fatherly love he never had, and now longs to pass it on to his son. In this cold and ruthless royal family filled with power struggles, he hopes to provide his son with a small warm haven, to ensure that the last trace of warmth can continue. Perhaps this effort is insignificant, but for him, it is a utmost effort and effort.

His second prince was his legitimate son by his first wife. Though their love for each other wasn't particularly profound, the bond they shared as a young couple was etched deeply into their hearts, like a brand that would never be erased. Back then, his first wife had suffered a difficult labor and tragically passed away. In her final moments, she clutched his hand tightly, her last words uttered: "Please take good care of our child. This is the only blood I have left for you!" With these words, she closed her eyes forever, leaving behind only the crying second prince in his cradle.

From then on, the father personally brought the Second Prince up by his side, carefully nurturing him and patiently guiding him through his upbringing. From the time the Second Prince was a babbling, tottering infant, every step of his development was spent in his father's warm embrace. From the clear, tender sound of his first call for "Daddy" to the adorable way he staggered into his father's arms after taking his first steps, to the pitiful expression of him shivering beside his father when he was sick... every little detail has become the most precious memory in his father's life.

Because of this, the father lavished far more love and care on the Second Prince than on any other of his sons. After all, the Second Prince was not only his first legitimate son, but also the only symbol of his beautiful past with his first wife. Therefore, no matter what difficulties or challenges they faced, he would do his utmost to protect and nurture this child, allowing him to thrive and become an outstanding talent.

The Second Prince lived up to Emperor Qian's earnest expectations, gradually blossoming into a talented young man possessing many fine qualities. He radiated the precious virtues of integrity and kindness, while his competence and diligence were particularly commendable. Whether handling palace affairs or navigating complex situations, he displayed remarkable ability and wisdom, commanding admiration.

Emperor Qian was filled with immense confidence in the son he had personally nurtured. In his eyes, the Second Prince was the undisputed future heir to the throne. However, Emperor Qian had no idea that his son, while so excellent and obedient in front of him, would display a completely different demeanor once he stepped outside the palace and met outsiders.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the palace windows onto the magnificent hall. Emperor Qian, clad in a magnificent dragon robe, sat upright on the throne, a symbol of supreme power. His expression was solemn and majestic, and his unspoken aura of authority filled the entire court with a solemn and dignified atmosphere.

Your Highness, the ministers were chattering away, reporting to the Emperor various important pieces of information and enthusiastically discussing how to properly handle these matters. Some were making impassioned speeches, while others were whispering in low voices, creating a cacophony of activity in the court.

However, at this moment of clamor, Emperor Qian suddenly spoke: "Hong'er, I want to hear your opinion on the affairs of the Northwestern Han people." As soon as these words came out, the originally bustling court suddenly became silent, as if even the sound of a needle falling to the ground could be clearly heard.

Everyone turned their heads in unison, their gazes fixed on the Fourth Prince. The ministers' eyes revealed a complex mix of emotions: curiosity, anticipation, and confusion; the other princes' gazes were even more peculiar, tinged with a hint of jealousy and wariness.

Upon hearing his father's inquiry, the Fourth Prince bowed slightly and then calmly stepped out of the ranks. Standing tall and composed, he spoke slowly, "In reply to your father, I believe the Northwestern Han Dynasty currently faces two pressing priorities. First, we must firmly defend our borders against the Xiongnu invasion. The northwest, with its strategic terrain, is a vital barrier for the Dashun. If the Xiongnu breach our defenses, they will surely advance unimpeded. The people of Dashun would then be ravaged by war, their lives decimated, and our vast land would be plunged into dire straits."

At this point, the Fourth Prince paused briefly, looked around, and continued, "Secondly, we must urgently escort sufficient money and food to the northwest. As the saying goes, 'Before the troops move, the food and fodder must go first.' If the soldiers at the front are hungry and cold, how can they have the strength and fighting spirit to defend the border fortresses of Dashun?"

The Fourth Prince's words were clear and powerful, and everyone present couldn't help but look at him with awe.

When the Fourth Prince's reply reached the main hall, the originally quiet court was instantly broken, and the ministers began to whisper and discuss. Some ministers nodded in agreement, thinking that the Fourth Prince's words were very reasonable; while others frowned and shook their heads repeatedly, saying that such a move was absolutely unacceptable.

"If a large amount of money and food is transferred to the northwest, will other places still have food to survive?" A minister with an anxious face shouted loudly, waving his arms as if to emphasize the importance of his point of view.

"Yes! What should we do if trouble breaks out in other places due to food shortage? How can we only focus on one side and ignore the overall situation!" Another minister echoed, his face solemn and his eyes full of worry.

As the debate escalated, the ministers' voices grew louder and their emotions intensified. Some, their faces flushed, argued their case, others raged in anger, and some even began accusing and insulting each other. The entire hall was in chaos, as if a war without gunpowder was unfolding.

Emperor Qian sat upright on his resplendent dragon throne, his gaze sweeping across the hall at the throng of ministers, their faces red with anger and arguing furrowed in passion. His brow furrowed slightly, a hint of discontent evident on his face. With a loud bang, Emperor Qian slammed his armrest and shouted, "Enough! This clamor is unbecoming! So, tell me, who should be assigned to handle this matter?"

As soon as these words were spoken, the previously bustling hall fell silent, and the ministers fell silent. They lowered their heads, glanced at each other, and then quickly looked away, as if avoiding the Emperor Qian's piercing gaze. For a moment, the entire hall fell into a suffocating silence.

After a while, a courageous minister finally raised his head cautiously and stammered, "Your Majesty... I think... this matter is really difficult to decide. After all, this is not an easy task, and it will be thankless if it is not done well. If it is done properly, you may not get too much reward; but once something goes wrong, you will definitely be held accountable. So... I really dare not recommend others easily." After speaking, the minister hurriedly lowered his head again, fearing that he would say something wrong and anger Emperor Qian.

Seeing this, the other ministers all echoed, "Yes, Your Majesty. This matter is indeed difficult, and we don't know who to send." Everyone looked at each other, and no one was willing to take the initiative to step forward and take this responsibility, for fear that they would accidentally bring disaster upon themselves.