Zhan Beiye's laughter reverberated through the palace doors, but Yan Jingchen's face had already turned ashen.
He clenched his fists so tightly that the sweat in his palms seemed to be squeezing out. Even the veins on his forehead were throbbing. His eyes were bloodshot like a net, forming a demonic rope that wanted to tie up the woman he loved but couldn't get her.
Opposite him, the woman raised her head to the sky, her chin engraved in a resolute and disdainful arc in the light of the torch. Behind her, Zhan Beiye sneered. Yun Hen's eyes were cold, but no one was willing to look at him.
Only Pei Yuan held onto Zhan Beiye's motionless hand and struggled weakly. She glared at her fiancé with anger and despair in her eyes. As she struggled, the bones in her neck creaked. The sound was chilling in the stifling silence, as though a thousand swords had been unsheathed and were about to face a great enemy.
Yan Jingchen avoided her eyes that were filled with grief, anger, and madness, and stared at her with hope. After what seemed like a long time, he finally loosened his fists.
In his palms, the crescent-shaped wound that had been pinched by his fingernails began to ooze blood. The blood was then diluted by his sweat into a pale red color that dripped soundlessly onto the green stone floor and disappeared.
Yan Jingchen's eyes were filled with a murderous intent as if he was ready to cut off all means of retreat.
After a while, he said sternly, "Give me …"
Before he could finish his sentence, a loud bang was heard and a buzzing sound could be heard from all directions. It was as if a heavy object had hit the brass palace door, causing it to shake slightly.
The sound was dull, like the sound of a bomb hitting a solid object. After a while, blood flowed from the green stone doorsill, twisting like a snake as it slowly flowed into the door.
Everyone subconsciously lowered their heads and stared at the blood that was spreading to their feet. There wasn't a lot of blood, but it sent a chill down their spines. It was as if something unexpected had happened. It was horrifying, piercingly cold, and blood splattered everywhere, instantly suffocating everyone.
In the darkness, countless eyes flickered as they turned towards the palace door that had been hit.
After a while, another loud bang was heard. At the same time, shouts and sounds of fighting could be heard from the darkness. The stench of blood soared into the sky, forming a pink blood mist in mid-air. Someone shouted.
"Those who stand in my way will die!"
Someone screamed.
"Ah! Imperial Guards! — "
The screams of people and the neighing of horses were accompanied by the rising flames. Waves of black smoke mixed with the sticky smell of blood passed through the front of the wide palace gate and floated into the noses of the people on the other side of the palace gate. There were continuous sounds of bodies crashing into the palace gate, followed by the sounds of things flying in all directions. It could be imagined that those were the broken limbs that once again fell on the palace gate.
It wasn't hard to imagine how each of the giant brass nails on the palace gates would be covered in strands of flesh and blood. It would be the truest of blood to record the massacre that had taken place in Taiyuan Palace that night in the shadows of fire.
At this moment, the clamor from the outside was like a boiling pot of porridge, and the deathly stillness within was deathly silent.
Not only had the Crown Prince escaped the assassins at the birthday banquet, but he had also safely left the Palace. Finally, he arrived at the camp of the Imperial Guards stationed in the capital before midnight. Stepping on the bloody path that Ming He's army had taken 15 minutes ago, he once again charged over.
Suddenly, the sound of hoofbeats broke the silence. Yuan Zhaoxu had arrived on horseback, his robes fluttering in the wind. His posture was calm despite the urgency. His voice wasn't loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly.
"Open the gates!"
"You're crazy!" Yan Jingchen turned around in shock. "Open the gates now and you'll die!"
Yuan Zhaoxu raised his head and smiled faintly. He twirled the reins around his fingers, as if he didn't want to talk to this person. Zhan Beiye suddenly laughed. "You'd be an idiot if you don't open the gates. Eighty thousand Imperial Guards against fifty thousand unprepared Imperial Guards blocking the square, who's going to beat who? Open the palace gates, gather your guards and flintlocks to form another force, and lead the battlefield into the palace. There are too many roads, and the Imperial Guards can't use many of their weapons. They're not as familiar with the terrain as the guards. Who can predict the outcome of the battle then? "
He turned to Yuan Zhaoxu and raised his thick brows. "You're a talent. I hope to fight you on the battlefield one day and beat you up!"
"Our wishes are the same." Yuan Zhaoxu raised his hand with a warm smile.
Their gazes met in mid-air, and there seemed to be a clanging sound in the air. Suddenly, the blue dome of heaven moved, and lightning danced in and out of the sky like snakes. Thunder rumbled faintly in the distance, approaching the four seas and eight wastelands.
It was a promise of blood and iron made by a peerless character that was destined to affect the layout of the five continents. Once a word was spoken, it corresponded to the heavens.
Their gazes collided once more, and the two of them turned around and walked away. Zhan Beiye let out a long laugh, his face full of fighting spirit and fighting spirit. Suddenly, a snow-white ball crawled out of Yuan Zhaoxu's arms and climbed onto Yuan Zhaoxu's shoulder. It stuck out its butt and farted at the arrogant junior who dared to provoke its master.
…
The palace gates finally creaked open.
Meng Fuyao stared at the slowly opening gates and felt that she was very lucky. The two of them had foolishly chased in the wrong direction and tried to kidnap Qi Xunyi in front of the palace gates, but Yuan Zhaoxu had foiled their plans. Looking at the stacked guards of the Triple Gate, they had lost all hope. Who would have thought that a new army would suddenly appear, and their bold act of burning down the palace would finally pay off and save their lives.
The palace gates opened, and Zhan Beiye lowered his head to look at Pei Yuan, who was still choked by his throat. He frowned. "I really want to kill you, but to kill a defenseless girl like this … sigh, I can't do it."
He turned to look at Yun Hen for help, but Yun Hen glared at him and turned his head away.
Zhan Beiye said helplessly, "But I think that you're better off dead than alive. This is better." He let go and threw Pei Yuan away. She fell like a fallen leaf in mid-air, but before she landed, Zhan Beiye suddenly pulled out his sword and flashed it.
With a scream, blood spurted out from Pei Yuan's shoulder like a thin sword, splattering on the face of Yan Jingchen, who had subconsciously rushed forward to catch her.
A neat, bloody hole appeared on Pei Yuan's left shoulder, and there was no flesh or blood in the hole.
Her shoulder blade had been pierced by Zhan Beiye.
"The second hole!" Zhan Beiye shouted, his black hair fluttering and his eyes sharp. "Eight more!"
The heartless Meng Fuyao did not know about the oath of ten holes. She giggled and rolled up her sleeves. "Aiya, Prince, you're so lewd."
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