On the wedding day, my wife was abnormal

Murong Yan nestled in his arms, her body trembling uncontrollably. The black and gold wedding robe that had shielded her from the calamity was torn and draped haphazardly over her shoulders.

The dark gold color of the phoenix-adorned dress she wore appeared even more somber after the upheaval, as if it were stained with the shadows of blood and betrayal.

The long, trailing tail curled helplessly under the tatami mat, like a wounded phoenix tail feather.

"Yan'er! Yan'er, how are you?" Lin Zhen called out anxiously, checking if she was injured.

Murong Yan caught her breath, raised her pale face, her phoenix eyes filled with disbelief, shock, and chilling coldness. She looked out the window in the direction Kong Wenbo had fled, and spoke slowly and deliberately, her voice weak but filled with overwhelming hatred and killing intent:

"Kong Wenbo, well done! A descendant of a sage, a model of Confucianism! Cough cough, issue my decree: the entire Kong family shall be exterminated!"

This betrayal and assassination, which occurred on his sickbed, shook the Holy Emblem Court like a thunderbolt.

The collusion between the Kong family, the Duke of Yansheng, and the remnants of Goguryeo had far-reaching consequences, exceeding even a simple military conflict.

......

When news of the upheaval at Penglai Palace arrived like a plague via express courier, the Confucius Mansion in Qufu, Shandong, a mansion renowned as the "Literary Hub of the World" that had weathered a thousand years of storms, was still immersed in a seemingly peaceful tranquility.

With its flying eaves and brackets, ancient cypress trees, and the sound of students reciting their lessons still emanating from the family school, it seems that all the strife in the outside world has nothing to do with this sacred land.

Kong Wenbo's younger brother, Kong Wenjian, was sitting in the Qingjian Hall of the mansion, reviewing the accounts of the clan's estates in recent days.

He was nearly fifty years old. Unlike his elder brother, who was obsessed with power, he was more devoted to learning and managed the family property with leniency.

Although he felt somewhat uneasy about his elder brother suddenly taking Zhixuan to Penglai, he didn't think too much about it, considering the Kong family's extraordinary status and the fact that they were going to offer medicine to the Empress as a gesture of goodwill. He only hoped that they would return safely soon.

However, this tranquility was completely shattered in the afternoon.

The earth began to tremble faintly, at first like distant thunder, but then it became clear and distinct, the roar of countless iron cavalry galloping!

Accompanied by the deafening sound of horses' hooves, sharp sirens and piercing cries came from the streets outside the mansion!

"It's terrible! Second Master! It's terrible!" A servant stumbled into Qingjian Hall, his face ashen and his voice trembling uncontrollably, "Soldiers... soldiers! So many soldiers! They've surrounded our mansion! They say... they say they've been ordered to confiscate our property!"

The account book in Kong Wenjian's hand fell to the ground with a "thud." He stood up abruptly, his face instantly turning deathly pale: "Nonsense! My Kong family are descendants of a sage, treated with utmost respect by emperors throughout history. How could there be any talk of confiscating our property?! There must be a mistake! Let me get out of here..."

His words came to an abrupt halt. A group of fierce, armored soldiers had violently kicked open the doors of Qingjian Hall, their cold weapons gleaming in the sunlight.

The leading general, his face frosty, held a scroll of bright yellow silk and shouted sternly:

"Imperial Edict! The treacherous subjects Kong Wenbo and Kong Zhixuan, in collusion with remnants of Goguryeo, plotted to assassinate His Majesty at the Penglai Palace. The evidence is irrefutable, and their crimes are heinous! His Majesty decrees: the entire Kong family, regardless of age, shall be punished for treason, executed along with their three clans! Their property shall be confiscated, and their residence burned down! The Confucius Cemetery and the Confucius Temple shall be immediately sealed off, pending further judgment! So be it!"

Every word was like a bolt from the blue, striking Kong Wenjian and all the Kong clan members who rushed to the scene upon hearing the news!

"No—! Impossible!" Kong Wenjian screamed hoarsely, his whole body trembling. "My brother is the Duke of Yansheng, how could he be plotting rebellion?! It must be a frame-up by treacherous people! I want to see His Majesty! I want to..."

"Shh!"

A cold, sharp blade flashed past.

Kong Wenjian's voice stopped abruptly. He looked down in disbelief, watching a blade tip protrude from his chest, blood quickly staining his simple scholar's robe.

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His body went limp and he collapsed, his eyes filled with endless injustice, anger and confusion.

Until his death, he never understood why a descendant of a thousand-year-old saint would suffer such a terrible calamity.

"Second Master!"

"Fight them!"

The Confucius Mansion was immediately thrown into an uproar.

Some weak scholars tried to reason with them, some loyal servants resisted to protect their masters, and some women and children cried out in terror.

However, faced with the well-equipped and well-prepared elite Imperial Guards, any resistance would be futile.

The massacre has begun.

The clash of swords replaced the poetry, literature, and music of the past.

Blood stained the bluestone pavement and splattered onto the ancient couplets and plaques. The once high-ranking nobles of the Confucius Mansion were now being driven and slaughtered like pigs and sheep.

The library was set on fire, and the thousand-year-old books were reduced to ashes in the flames. The air was filled with the stench of blood and burnt remains.

Kong Wenbo's youngest son, Kong Zhiqian, who was only ten years old, was originally practicing calligraphy in the study when his wet nurse hid him in a huge book box.

Through the cracks in the box, he witnessed the most horrific sight of his life: his kind uncles were hacked down, his gentle aunt was dragged away, and his familiar servants lay convulsing in pools of blood... He covered his mouth tightly, not daring to make a sound, his clothes soaked with tears and fear.

The bloody scene, the ferocious faces of the officers and soldiers, and especially the names "Murong Yan" and "Lin Zhen" mentioned by the general when he read the imperial edict, were like a red-hot branding iron, deeply imprinted on his young mind.

“Murong Yan…Lin Zhen…” He silently chewed on these two names in his heart, each word accompanied by the screams of his loved ones and the dull thud of a knife entering flesh.

Hatred, like a poisonous vine, frantically grew in the heart of this child who should have only known how to recite the classics.

He remembered it. It was these two people, the so-called empress and her henchmen, who destroyed his family and slaughtered his relatives!

The killings lasted for an entire afternoon.

As the setting sun dyes the sky a desolate blood red, the Confucius Mansion, once a place of resounding prosperity and glory for a thousand years, has become a living hell.

Corpses littered the ground, blood flowed like rivers. The few surviving distant relatives or servants who had gone mad with fear were chained like dogs and escorted out of the city, where they would face exile or slavery.

The towering fire engulfed the pavilions and towers, and the mansion, a symbol of Confucian rites and music, collapsed in the flames.

Kong Zhiqian, who narrowly escaped death, crawled out of the ruined Kong Mansion through a dog hole in the middle of the night under the desperate cover of his wet nurse.

He looked back and saw only ruins. The firelight illuminated his pale and distorted face, and his once clear eyes were now filled with deep hatred and coldness.

"Murong Yan... Lin Zhen..." He faced the sea of ​​fire and, with all his might, swore in a low voice, "I, Kong Zhiqian, swear to the heavens that as long as I have a breath left, I will avenge this blood feud! I will make you... pay for your blood debts!"

The mournful voice of a child drifted in the night wind, like the curse of a vengeful spirit.

Meanwhile, far away in Penglai, Murong Yan's condition worsened after experiencing a thrilling assassination attempt.

However, with Lin Zhen's meticulous care and the imperial physicians' all-out efforts to save her, and with the Kong family, this "internal threat," being eliminated in the most tragic way, the tension in her heart seemed to ease slightly, and her condition began to slowly improve.

Ten days later, although Murong Yan was still weak, she was able to get out of bed and walk with difficulty.

She knew that while the extermination of the Kong family had deterred the wicked, it would inevitably cause a huge uproar among scholars and the common people, and the capital needed her to return and oversee the situation. Moreover, the main objectives of her eastern tour—to deter those on the coast and consolidate border defenses—had already been initially achieved.

"My lord, issue the decree. We shall depart for the capital in three days." Murong Yan stood by the window of the palace, gazing at the now calm sea outside, and said softly to Lin Zhen.

She was still wearing the Phoenix Descent dress, its long, dark gold train trailing behind her. Although it had been tidied up, it still carried a hint of the disheveled state of someone who had survived a catastrophe.

Looking at her still frail figure, Lin Zhen said worriedly, "Yan'er, your health..."

“It’s alright.” Murong Yan turned around, her face showing a hint of weary determination. “The capital is the real battlefield. As for the Kong family’s affairs, I must return and personally ‘explain’ them to the people.”

Her gaze was deep, as if she could already see the storms and tempests she would face upon returning to the capital.

In mid-June, Empress Saint Hui's imperial carriage, escorted by a massive fleet, slowly departed from Penglai Port and embarked on its return journey.

The sea was calm, as if the previous assassinations, rebellions, and bloody purges had never happened.