With death looming, Mira Tang, Spring, and the others were already pale with fright, eyes shut as they awaited the end. But instead of death, they heard a voice that saved their lives.
The group hurriedly opened their eyes and saw the Crown Prince himself walking toward them like a savior. Their legs gave out, and they dropped to their knees, choking out, "Your Highness, may you live for thousands and thousands of years!"
Never before had they been so grateful for the Crown Prince's arrival. Vincent Su finally let out a long breath and slumped to the ground, relief written all over his face.
He knew it—he just knew Ninth Royal Uncle would have made arrangements. There was no way Uncle Nolan would leave Serena Feng to fend for herself. Even if the Crown Prince had come a bit late, it was still better than not coming at all.
There were many people, and it was chaotic, but the Crown Prince immediately spotted Vincent Su and nodded to him. Then he strode quickly toward the Feng Manor ancestral hall. Everywhere he looked, the Feng Manor servants were in a sorry state, and the whole estate was a mess.
The Crown Prince's brow furrowed. When he saw the Bloodcloak Guard fail to salute him, his displeasure grew even stronger.
It was true that the Bloodcloak Guard answered only to the Emperor, but they shouldn’t forget—he was the Crown Prince, the heir apparent. Even if he wasn’t favored by the Emperor, as long as he held the title, all of Eastlyn was supposed to treat him as the future sovereign.
"The Bloodcloak Guard certainly has airs. You see me and still don’t salute?" the Crown Prince barked. Only then did the Bloodcloak Guard react. Though they resented him and didn’t respect him, they couldn’t afford to slip up in public etiquette.
"Greetings, Your Highness," the Bloodcloak Guard said, dropping to one knee in a half-hearted salute.
The Crown Prince was still dissatisfied, but said nothing more. He simply let them kneel for a long time without granting permission to rise, coldly surveying the Bloodcloak Guard. A hundred men knelt, their resentment growing. If not for fear of being impeached by the censors and bringing trouble to Adrian Dongling, they would have ignored the Crown Prince altogether.
Of course the Crown Prince knew what the Bloodcloak Guard was thinking. To have fallen so far, to be humiliated this way—he could only swallow the bitterness and cling to his last shred of pride. He waved his hand: "You may rise."
"Thank you, Your Highness," came the scattered replies, their dissatisfaction plain. The Crown Prince knew it well but could only endure. As heir, he refused to stoop to the level of these small fry. He ordered, "Go summon Prince Adrian of Luo. I wish to see him."
As long as he remained Crown Prince, he was, at least in name, the second most exalted person in Eastlyn. No matter how little favor he had, it was Adrian who should come to him—not the other way around.
That was the difference in status. It was precisely why Adrian Dongling schemed so hard to depose him and take the heir's seat for himself.
As the Empress's legitimate son, Adrian Dongling had every right to inherit. If the Crown Prince ascended, he would never let Adrian go. Among all the brothers, aside from the Crown Prince, Adrian was the only one with a truly legitimate claim. In such a situation, Adrian had no choice but to fight for it.
From birth, Adrian and the Crown Prince were destined to be at odds. So when Adrian heard the Bloodcloak Guard report that the Crown Prince had arrived and wanted to see him, a flash of killing intent appeared in his eyes...
Once again, the Crown Prince was blocking his way!
As long as the Crown Prince wasn't deposed, Adrian had to salute him every time they met, no matter how much power he held or how unwilling he was.
Prince Evan and Prince Jason were just bystanders. Even though they’d allied with Adrian, they didn’t mind watching him clash with the Crown Prince.
If the legitimate sons tore each other apart, the others would have a shot too. As long as they were the Emperor’s sons, they qualified to compete for the throne.
The four brothers exchanged polite but insincere words. Adrian Dongling was all force and aggression—anyone who didn’t know better might have mistaken him for the Crown Prince.
Normally, to save face, the Crown Prince would have backed down. But today, for some reason, he refused to yield even half a step to Adrian Dongling’s relentless pressure.
One wielded power, the other wielded status—neither gave way. Prince Evan and Prince Jason exchanged knowing glances, both understanding the deeper game.
For the Crown Prince to show such backbone, he must have received a promise from Ninth Royal Uncle. Otherwise, why would he risk coming to Feng Manor today and interfering in the Walker family’s affairs? That would be openly defying the Emperor.
Their eyes met, sparks flying. Neither the Crown Prince nor Adrian Dongling would give an inch. The tension mounted, and killing intent began to fill the air.
Adrian Dongling insisted on searching Feng Manor and dragging out William Wang Jinling. The Crown Prince refused, demanding Adrian wait until Serena Feng finished her surgery. He accused Adrian of condoning his subordinates’ violence and abusing the descendants of loyal generals, chilling the hearts of the empire’s soldiers.
The Walker clan’s crisis was now a contest not just between the Emperor and Ninth Royal Uncle, but between Adrian Dongling and the Crown Prince. Frankly, neither could afford to lose.
If Adrian lost, the Emperor would see him as incompetent. Once a prince was branded useless, how could he hope to win the throne?
If the Crown Prince lost, he’d not only offend his own father but also lose the powerful support of Ninth Royal Uncle. Without Nolan’s help, how long could he keep his title?
This was the imperial power struggle—advance or be swept away. Prince Evan and Prince Jason looked conflicted, hesitating over whether to step forward and help Adrian.
After wavering back and forth, they finally nodded. If Adrian lost, they’d be implicated too.
So what began as a one-on-one standoff turned into three against one. Earlier, the Crown Prince had managed to suppress Adrian with his status and the master-level guards he brought. But once Evan and Jason joined in, the Crown Prince lost his advantage—especially since his heart was weak and he couldn’t handle agitation. He quickly fell behind.
Vincent Su saw it all and was anxious, but this was a battle between princes—what could a commoner like him do? He scratched his head, racking his brain, until finally he thought of someone.
The Crown Prince was here—so it made perfect sense for Prince Titus of Lyndaria to come out and greet him. With a foreign prince present, surely the four Eastlyn princes wouldn’t disgrace the imperial family by quarreling in front of outsiders.
Vincent Su quickly signaled a Feng Manor servant to quietly invite Prince Titus and explain what was happening.
Adrian Dongling and the Bloodcloak Guard had their backs to Vincent Su and didn’t notice his maneuver, but the Crown Prince did, and a hint of approval flashed in his eyes.
Seeing the Crown Prince stalling for time and refusing to let go of the Guard’s abuses, Adrian Dongling hardened his stance: "Your Highness, I respect you as Crown Prince, but that doesn’t mean you can use your status to interfere in my official duties. This is my assignment, and I’ll handle it myself. Right or wrong, our father will judge.
The Bloodcloak Guard are my men, sent by my order to search Feng Manor. Even if you are the Crown Prince, you have no right to stop them. The Bloodcloak Guard obey only imperial commands. If you keep obstructing their work, I won’t be polite any longer."
Adrian Dongling’s every word made it clear—he no longer regarded the Crown Prince as worthy of respect.