Venting His Anger, Ninth Royal Uncle Slaps the Prince of Luo Before the Throne

"Your Majesty, I know you worry for me. That is why, as soon as I entered the city, I hurried to the palace. Please rest assured, I am perfectly well." His icy tone and stern expression made it impossible to tell if Ninth Royal Uncle was sincere.

The Emperor could only force a dry laugh: "As long as you are safe, Ninth Brother, I am relieved. I have only you as a brother—if anything happened to you, how could I face the late Emperor?"

With these words, the Emperor made it clear to the ministers that Ninth Royal Uncle’s accident had nothing to do with him.

"Your Majesty’s care for his younger brother is known throughout the land. The late Emperor’s spirit will understand your kindness." Ninth Royal Uncle echoed the Emperor’s words, but the ministers heard something darker.

The Emperor’s other brothers had all died by his hand.

Ahem... When imperial brothers spoke, the ministers knew to stay out of it.

None of the ministers dared speak. Instead, Adrian Dongling, unhappy that Ninth Royal Uncle had stolen his spotlight, stood up with a wine cup and a bright smile: "Royal Uncle, I was anxious when I heard you were injured. Now that you are well, I can relax. I toast you, wishing you peace and smooth days ahead."

He finished the toast in one gulp and signaled for a palace maid to serve wine to Ninth Royal Uncle.

The Emperor didn’t stop him, just watched coldly.

Adrian Dongling’s words sounded polite, but his actions were domineering. This wasn’t a toast—it was clearly forcing Ninth Royal Uncle to drink.

Moreover, Adrian Dongling knew full well that Ninth Royal Uncle disliked women approaching him, yet deliberately had a palace maid serve the wine. This was an obvious show of dominance.

If Ninth Royal Uncle drank the wine, it meant he bowed his head; if he refused, he would be branded as arrogant.

The ministers widened their eyes, eager to see how Ninth Royal Uncle would respond—who would win this uncle-nephew showdown.

As the palace maid drew closer, the frost on Ninth Royal Uncle’s face deepened. The banquet hall fell silent; everyone held their breath, waiting for his reaction.

It was the height of summer. The palace maid wore a thin, sheer gauze dress; her chest—two pale curves—swayed enticingly with each step.

Whether fearless or simply clueless, the maid ignored the icy chill from Ninth Royal Uncle, approaching with a fawning smile.

Ninth Royal Uncle did not get angry, which only emboldened the maid. She knelt before him, deliberately exposing her snow-white chest.

A flash of disgust passed through Ninth Royal Uncle’s eyes. Before the maid could speak, he kicked her away: "Get out."

"Ah—" The maid shrieked, collapsed to the floor, and died on the spot.

Everyone’s expression changed again. One by one, they shrank back, lowered their heads, and pretended not to exist.

The Emperor’s brows knitted in displeasure, making it clear he was unhappy. Adrian Dongling seized the chance to protest again: "Royal Uncle, I sincerely toasted you—what do you mean by this?"

To kill someone at his victory banquet—wasn’t this deliberately bringing him bad luck?

Ninth Royal Uncle raised his eyes to Adrian Dongling and beckoned: "Prince Adrian, come here."

His tone allowed no refusal.

Adrian Dongling almost stepped forward, but his strategist coughed a warning. Adrian paused, forced down his anger, and asked, "What advice does Royal Uncle have for me?"

"What? My words no longer work?" Ninth Royal Uncle swept a glance at the strategist who had warned Adrian. The man trembled and quickly lowered his head.

"I wouldn’t dare." Adrian Dongling swallowed his fury. Ninth Royal Uncle was his elder and a higher-ranked prince—he dared not defy him in front of everyone, and obediently stepped forward to stand before him.

Smack—

To everyone’s shock, Ninth Royal Uncle raised his hand and slapped Adrian Dongling hard. Adrian was caught off guard; the blow landed solidly, twisting his face sideways.

"Ah—" Someone gasped. The entire hall was terrified; a flash of anger crossed the Emperor’s face.

Adrian Dongling was stunned, clutching his face, staring at Ninth Royal Uncle in disbelief: "Royal Uncle, what do you mean by this?"

To be slapped in public—Adrian Dongling had never suffered such humiliation. His rage was beyond words.

"What? Are you unconvinced? Do you think I have no right to discipline you?"

Adrian Dongling bit his lip and forced out, "I wouldn’t dare."

"Good. Remember—when I’m speaking with your father, you have no right to interrupt. Get back to your place!" Ninth Royal Uncle barked, making clear why he’d slapped Adrian.

No matter how dissatisfied Adrian Dongling was, he could only grit his teeth and accept it, retreating in anger.

Ninth Royal Uncle outranked him both in seniority and in princely rank. How could he resist? But to be slapped in front of so many people—how could he face the ministers again?

Adrian Dongling looked to the Emperor for help, desperate to salvage his dignity.

The Emperor nodded slightly, signaling Adrian to endure for now.

Having finished disciplining Adrian, Ninth Royal Uncle turned to the Emperor: "Your Majesty, please forgive my loss of decorum at court. I nearly lost my life outside the capital—my temper has grown violent."

This was both an excuse to the Emperor—Ninth Royal Uncle slapped Adrian Dongling because he was in a foul mood after nearly dying outside the capital—and a warning, hinting that he suspected Adrian was involved in the ambush. It was a lesson for Adrian.

Originally, the Emperor had doubted whether Ninth Royal Uncle’s ambush was real, but this display erased his suspicion. If he hadn’t truly been attacked, Ninth Royal Uncle wouldn’t be this furious.

A cough—A flicker of awkwardness crossed the Emperor’s face: "Adrian is still young, Ninth Brother, don’t hold it against him."

There were many suspicious points about the attack on Ninth Royal Uncle, but… no culprit could be found. Hearing him bring it up, the Emperor could not press further.

After all, he himself was the biggest suspect.

"Thank you for your understanding, Your Majesty. I traveled day and night to return to the capital and am feeling unwell. Please allow me to withdraw early. Tonight, I’ll host a banquet at The Windchaser Inn, inviting Prince Adrian and Prince Jason to celebrate my safe return." Ninth Royal Uncle’s words were plainly contradictory.

First he claimed exhaustion, yet he had the energy to host a banquet that night—he was giving the Emperor no face at all.

Yet what puzzled everyone was that the Emperor not only didn’t get angry, he even tacitly allowed Ninth Royal Uncle to invite Adrian Dongling and Jason Dongling. The ministers were left bewildered.

Could it be that Ninth Royal Uncle was planning to apologize at the banquet?

Was that possible? Ninth Royal Uncle, apologize? Wouldn’t that be a sign the heavens were raining blood?

Ninth Royal Uncle couldn’t care less what they thought. Having achieved his goal, he turned and strode out of the palace. As for the civil and military officials in the banquet hall, he hadn’t spared them a glance from start to finish.

Leaving the palace, Ninth Royal Uncle went straight back to Ninth Prince Manor. As soon as he arrived, a servant reported that the Wang Patriarch had sent an urgent letter.

Ninth Royal Uncle glanced at the long list of names and smiled.

The eldest son was truly extraordinary. Nolan had hinted so subtly, yet William Wang Jinling still understood his meaning—remarkable indeed.

William Wang Jinling wanted to borrow a knife to kill. Nolan would gladly oblige—but his knife was not so easily borrowed...