Chapter 661: The Mysterious Letter

「Beili Imperial Palace, Dragon and Qilin Hall.」

The Beili Emperor gazed at the person lying on the large bed, wishing he could strangle him with his own hands. ’To think my own son would turn out like this.’

His entire personality had changed, all because a child had died.

"Your Majesty." Du Zhong withdrew his hand from Sang Zhi’s wrist.

"What is his condition?"

"The Eighth Prince possesses an immense Inner Strength. It’s a miracle he’s managed to survive this long. Now, any emotional fluctuation could cause that Inner Strength to rupture his internal organs at any moment."

"Immense Inner Strength? How does it compare to yours?"

Du Zhong shook his head. "My Inner Strength is less than half of what the Eighth Prince contains."

The Beili Emperor was utterly astonished. "Who would transfer such immense Inner Strength into a child?"

"There are rumors in the martial arts world of a secret technique from overseas. Those poisoned by it suffer a rapid loss of their Inner Strength. I suspect the person who transferred their Inner Strength to the Eighth Prince was afflicted by this technique and simply grabbed the nearest available vessel to pour it into."

"A vessel? Is there any way to disperse the Inner Strength?"

"If we try to force it out, I’m afraid the Eighth Prince won’t survive the day. However, I can see that the Eighth Prince’s willpower is extraordinary. He has even endured bone-deep agony, so suppressing the Inner Strength shouldn’t be a problem." In his heart, Du Zhong felt a certain admiration for Sang Zhi.

A martial artist would best understand the pain of clashing Inner Strength. For someone so young to have absorbed the equivalent of a hundred years’ worth of Inner Strength and not died... it was truly a rarity.

The Beili Emperor frowned. ’With such immense Inner Strength, if the Eighth Prince is allowed to mature... he will become a terrifying force.’

"Your Majesty." Mr. Li entered and bowed.

The Beili Emperor looked at him. "How is he?"

"He stopped moving after the eightieth military stroke."

"He’s dead?"

"After the full one hundred strokes, he looked no different from a dead man. Dean Chen had his people carry him away," Mr. Li reported.

"Hmph. It would be better if he were dead. If he’s not, he got off easy. Have the Ministry of Revenue go and seal the General’s manor tomorrow. Order the authorities to send men over. Whether he is dead or alive, he is to be expelled from the Capital City. No one from the General’s manor is permitted to take anything from the estate." The Beili Emperor was giving them no chance to breathe.

"Yes."

"Also, go to the Ministry of Justice at once. Have them take Consort Yuan to the border immediately. Dispatch a contingent of men to follow her entourage in secret. Her safety must be guaranteed."

’She was supposed to leave the city three days ago, but the gates were sealed that day, delaying everything. He feared Xiang Minghou and Consort Yuan might cross paths.’

A flicker of understanding passed through Mr. Li’s eyes. "Yes."

That night, the General’s manor was ablaze with lights.

Xiang Minghou’s injuries were extremely severe. Dean Chen used the medicine Ye Qianning had provided, administering it both internally and topically. The effect on stopping the bleeding was excellent, but Xiang Minghou had developed a high fever.

"In his condition, being jostled around like this... he doesn’t have enough lives to spare. Have someone find some soft bedding to line the carriage with. It should cushion the ride a little." Qian Fu had sent men out of the city to intercept him, but they had missed him completely.

’I don’t know which road he took!’

"I’ll leave the city with Xiang Minghou tomorrow. I still have some of the medicine the young lady left behind, so I can look after him." Dean Chen poured a pill from a porcelain vial and placed it in Xiang Minghou’s mouth for him to hold there.

Hearing the three words "the young lady," everyone grew even more somber.

"Gu Shuo said you have news, Dean Chen. Is it true?" Qian Fu asked, his voice choked with emotion.

Dean Chen put away the vial, then pulled a sheet of rice paper from his sleeve and unfolded it. "Someone delivered this letter to me this morning."

Qian Fu and Zhan Yi leaned in for a closer look, puzzled. "What is this?"

"It’s writing."

"Writing? It doesn’t look like it."

"It’s a script Ye Qianning invented herself." Qian Fanji’s eyes lit up.