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Jin Shuai waited in the palace for a full day and night, from the first light of dawn until dusk, and from the moon high in the sky until the first light of day, until finally he received Zhao Zhen's decree to summon him. He composed himself, straightened his court robes to make sure they were neat and his hat was properly placed, and then followed the eunuch who had come to deliver the decree, walking slowly toward Zhao Zhen's bedroom.

At this moment, he felt little sadness, but rather a strange emotion—perhaps the感慨 of witnessing the end of a wise and benevolent ruler, or perhaps the contemplation of this turning point in the power transition. After all, Zhao Zhen had reigned for over forty years and was known for his benevolence; his life had long been recorded in history. The fact that he himself would be participating in this final moment inevitably stirred up some complex emotions within him.

As General Jin stepped into the depths of the palace, subtle changes were already taking place in the city of Tokyo outside. Beneath the seemingly calm surface, undercurrents were surging. Outside Tokyo, soldiers of unknown designation had quietly set up camp, their tents stretching endlessly. Though they did not display hostility, a tense atmosphere of impending conflict was palpable. Gu Tingye, as previously arranged, led his troops from their hiding place in the village, slowly moving towards Tokyo like a lurking beast, waiting for the right moment. Inside the city, the people continued to come and go, and the markets remained open as usual. However, a closer look revealed that the number of imperial guards patrolling the streets had increased, and the guards around officials' residences were several times more stringent than before. Zhao Zhen's situation was no secret, and the Goryeo King's previous visit to the palace clearly indicated that the transition of imperial power was imminent. Those members of the royal family and nobles who coveted the throne would naturally not let go of this last opportunity, and were already secretly plotting their moves.

Inside Zhao Zhen's bedchamber, the light was dim, and the air was thick with the smell of medicine. As soon as Jin Shuai stepped into the room, he saw Zhao Zhen sitting on the edge of the bed, being combed by an old eunuch. His once jet-black hair was now mostly gray, sparsely plastered to his scalp. Zhao Zhen's movements were slow and stiff, as if even raising his hand required a great deal of effort.

Jin Shuai was slightly taken aback, but then realized—this was a final burst of energy before death. Judging from the situation, it seemed that this benevolent ruler would soon truly depart this world. He composed himself, quickly stepped forward, bowed before Zhao Zhen, and said, "Your subject greets Your Majesty."

Zhao Zhen slowly turned his head, his cloudy gaze falling on Jin Shuai. After a long while, his gaze focused, and he forced a weak smile, saying, "Xi Ge'er, you've come... If I had a prodigy like you, I wouldn't have to fear that this empire would ultimately be handed over to a collateral branch, cough cough."

The voice was hoarse and dry, yet it carried an undisguised sense of resentment and melancholy, as if the regrets accumulated over half a lifetime were finally being poured out at this moment.

"Your Majesty..." Jin Shuai was about to say something when Zhao Zhen raised his hand to interrupt him.

"Ah, never mind." Zhao Zhen sighed softly, his eyes becoming somewhat unfocused, as if he were talking to himself, or perhaps to Marshal Jin, "I should have sent you back to your fiefdom sooner, but I was afraid... afraid that without you, those petty villains would disturb the capital, and only you could keep them in check."

As Jin Shuai listened, a cold smile crept into his heart: In the end, isn't he just afraid that once he returns to his fiefdom, I will again hold a large army, which will pose a threat to the imperial power of the Song Dynasty, and there is even a risk of the throne changing hands? Now he is already on his last breath, and he still wants to show benevolence and control the balance of power. Is it really meaningful to be hypocritical like this?

He thought to himself: If it weren't for my promise back then, why would I have been stuck in this capital city for several years? Do you really think I care about your Zhao family's dragon throne? Isn't it more interesting to watch you royal relatives scheming against each other?

He kept these thoughts to himself, but naturally he didn't show them on the surface. He simply stood aside with his head down, waiting for Zhao Zhen to continue, his face still showing that respectful and composed demeanor.

Seeing that Commander Jin remained silent, only standing with his head bowed, Zhao Zhen understood perfectly. He knew that Commander Jin's strength had always been concealed, far beyond what was outwardly apparent. Yet, after observing him over the years, the other party had indeed not revealed the slightest ambition to seize the throne. This contradiction kept him suspicious. Previously, out of imperial dignity, he hadn't dared to ask directly, but now that he was on his deathbed, if he didn't ask now, he might never have the chance again.

Zhao Zhen gasped for breath, his withered fingers gripping the brocade quilt tightly. His gaze was fixed on the Golden Marshal, and he spoke in a hoarse voice: "Xi Ge'er, you...you really never thought of sitting on this throne? I know you have the ability, there's no need to deceive me anymore. Today, I want to hear your true thoughts."

Upon hearing this, Jin Shuai raised his eyes to look at Zhao Zhen, a faint smile appearing on his face. His tone was calm yet insightful: "Your Majesty, you have ruled the Song Dynasty for decades, holding the highest power in the land. But think about it carefully, how many beautiful landscapes of the Song Dynasty have you traversed in these years? How many times have you witnessed the ebb and flow of the river tides and the bright moon over the mountains? And how many ordinary homes have you experienced the warmth and tranquility of everyday life?"

He paused, and seeing that Zhao Zhen remained silent, he continued, "To speak disrespectfully, how many times have you actually been to the bustling Fanlou? How many of the girls you truly admired have you been able to marry? You seem to rule the world and enjoy boundless glory, but in reality, you are busy in the Imperial Study until late at night every day, reviewing endless memorials and balancing the court affairs. Of all these matters, how many were truly handled according to your own wishes?"

Jin Shuai's voice wasn't loud, but it was like a key, unlocking the long-standing pent-up frustration in Zhao Zhen's heart. "Rather than being a trapped dragon 'dying for the country,' bound hand and foot by this empire, I much prefer a carefree and unrestrained life. People say that the common people are the king's subjects and should serve him, but conversely, isn't the king also a 'tool' for the common people? For the stability of the empire and the well-being of the people, he has to sacrifice too much and bear too much. I neither envy nor desire such a life."

After these words, a long silence fell over the bedchamber. Zhao Zhen stared blankly at the Golden Marshal, a hint of confusion flashing in his cloudy eyes, which then turned into deep understanding.

"Hahaha..." Zhao Zhen suddenly chuckled, his voice hoarse, carrying a hint of relief and an endless desolation. "I understand now... The supreme ruler is not only the highest authority, but also a shackle that binds the dragon. It turns out that there are indeed people in this world who can see through the illusion of power and live so clearly and transparently... I am not as good as you."

He pondered for a moment, then a bitter smile appeared on his lips. That smile contained the weariness and helplessness of half a lifetime, as if he had finally unloaded a heavy burden, or as if it were an annotation of his life.

As Jin Shuai listened, he thought to himself, "What are you comparing me to? I have thoughts from hundreds of years in the future in my mind, so I see these things much more clearly. This is not even a contest on the same level." But he said respectfully, "Your Majesty is joking. You were born into an imperial family and have shouldered the heavy responsibility of the country since childhood. Many times, you are indeed not in control of your own destiny."

Zhao Zhen waved his hand, his eyes gradually becoming unfocused, but his tone carried an unquestionable entrustment: "Go back... help me take good care of this country."

Jin Shuai smiled slightly, offering no answer, nor was an answer necessary. He bowed deeply to Zhao Zhen, then turned and left. His back was straight and resolute, showing no trace of lingering affection.

Not long after returning to the Jin residence, as expected, the devastating news from the palace arrived: the benevolent Emperor Zhao Zhen had passed away.

Immediately following was the news of Crown Prince Zhao Zongshi's ascension to the throne, and the imperial edict announcing the new emperor's accession quickly spread throughout the capital.

Jin Shuai stood in the courtyard of his mansion, gazing towards the palace. Night had quietly fallen, and the shadows of white mourning banners could be faintly seen deep within the palace walls. His expression was calm and undisturbed. Hua Lan and the children had evacuated as planned, and he now had no worries.

A gentle evening breeze rustled the leaves of the trees in the courtyard. A sharp glint flashed in Jin Shuai's eyes, and a smile of interest curved his lips.

With the new emperor's ascension to the throne and the reshuffling of power, the ambitions and schemes that had been lurking in the shadows were finally about to be brought to the forefront. He wanted to see just how this long-brewing storm would sweep across the land.

A series of hurried footsteps approached, breaking Jin Shuai's reverie. A guard quickly approached him, stood tall, gave a crisp military salute, and reported in a deep voice, "Your Highness, Gu Tingye has led his troops into the city and is currently moving towards the imperial palace. In addition, three other unidentified military forces are also secretly approaching the palace, their movements shrouded in secrecy."

Upon hearing this, Jin Shuai raised an eyebrow, a knowing glint in his eyes. After a moment's thought, he immediately ordered, "Pass on my command: each squad, immediately move to your designated positions and perform your duties! Within a hundred feet of the Jin residence, activate Level One alert. Anyone who attempts to force their way in without explaining their purpose will be killed on sight!"

"Yes!" The guard saluted again, his voice firm and clear, then turned and strode away to relay the order.

After the guards left, General Jin remained standing in the same spot, gazing intently towards the palace. He murmured softly, "You can make a scene all you want, fight to the death, but don't provoke the Jin family, or else..." Before he could finish speaking, a cold glint flashed in his eyes.

The next day, the morning sun pierced through the thin mist, slowly illuminating the streets and alleys of Tokyo. Jin Shuai was having breakfast in the front hall. He had just scooped up a bowl of hot porridge when his personal guard rushed in again, his face showing signs of exhaustion from a sleepless night, yet he remained solemn: "Reporting to Your Highness, a chaotic battle broke out around the capital last night, with various forces fighting fiercely. Ultimately, the Crown Prince's forces successfully repelled all attacks and stabilized the situation. They are currently preparing for the enthronement ceremony."

Jin Shuai put down his bowl of porridge, picked up a handkerchief to wipe his mouth, and a meaningful smile appeared on his face: "It seems that the Crown Prince has indeed done a good job of cultivating his power behind the scenes these past few years; his foundation is more solid than I imagined." He paused, then changed the subject, his tone carrying a hint of self-deprecation, as if he had already expected it, "Once the national mourning is over and the new emperor ascends the throne, he will need to establish his authority. It seems that next, he will probably start by targeting me."

As soon as he finished speaking, the hall fell silent, save for a few clear birdsongs from outside the window, creating a strange contrast to the calm that hinted at an impending storm. Jin Shuai picked up his teacup, took a small sip, and looked calm, as if he had already planned out the impending turmoil.

The national mourning lasted for several days, and slowly came to an end in a simple yet solemn atmosphere. The funeral procession stretched for miles, with paper money flying everywhere and mournful music playing softly. Finally, the coffin of the benevolent emperor Zhao Zhen was placed in the imperial mausoleum to accompany the emperors of the past.

Throughout the entire process, the new emperor Zhao Zongshi only appeared once on the day of the funeral. Dressed in plain clothes, his face was solemn, but he could not hide the aloofness between his brows. From beginning to end, he did not interact much with the court officials, and hurriedly returned to the palace as soon as the memorial ceremony was over.

Standing in the funeral procession, Jin Shuai observed everything, a strange feeling stirring within him—this new emperor exuded an almost deliberate indifference, seemingly showing little grief over the late emperor's passing, but rather a focused concentration on power. However, this was ultimately a matter of the Zhao Song imperial family, and as a prince from another clan, he had no need to interfere. Jin Shuai thought to himself that as long as the new emperor behaved himself and didn't provoke him, they could coexist peacefully.

After the funeral procession dispersed, General Jin returned to his residence and immediately began preparations for returning to his fiefdom of Dengzhou. He had already prepared a memorial, which he sent to the palace that same day. The memorial was earnest and stated that the national mourning period was over, the new emperor had just ascended the throne, and the court was gradually stabilizing. As a vassal, he could not stay in the capital for long and earnestly requested the new emperor's permission to return to Dengzhou to guard his fiefdom and defend the Song Dynasty's coastal borders.

Every procedure had to be followed, and the new emperor's face had to be given due respect. Jin Shuai sat in his study, watching his subordinates pack and organize boxes of books and artifacts, his eyes calm and undisturbed. The waters of Tokyo were now turbulent; staying here was pointless. He would rather return to Dengzhou, where his true power base lay.

A series of hurried footsteps echoed in the corridor, carrying an unmistakable tension. A guard abruptly pushed open the study door, his steps faltering before he gave a crisp military salute, his voice trembling slightly with urgency: "Your Highness, a large number of soldiers are advancing towards the mansion in an encirclement formation. Judging from the banners, the leader is Gu Tingye!"

Jin Shuai paused, the ink dripping onto the rice paper, spreading into a small black spot. He raised his eyes, a cold sneer flashing in them—it really had come. The new emperor was eager to give him a taste of his power, and also to have Gu Tingye use the imperial decree to find some ground and test his worth.

"Pass on my order," Jin Shuai put down his pen, his voice calm to the point of being icy, "Anyone who trespasses within fifty meters of the mansion will be executed without mercy!"

"Yes!" The guard acknowledged the order, turned and rushed out to relay it down through the ranks.

Outside the Jin residence, at the street corner fifty meters away, Gu Tingye reluctantly dismounted. He looked at the Jin marshal's personal guards, who were standing ready for battle, and his brows furrowed tightly. Each of the guards was tall and straight, and they were all holding strangely shaped shotguns. The dark muzzles of the guns were pointed directly at the street corner, clearly indicating that they were serious.