"If you already know it's the Emperor's test, why fight at all? You have plenty of ways to force Prince Rowan's men out of the city."
Outside, the tension was palpable—gunpowder in the air, the two sides locked in a standoff, ready to ignite at any moment. Prince Nolan and Prince Rowan's men were on the brink of clashing. Inside, though, Prince Nolan and William Wang Jinling lounged over a game of chess, utterly unconcerned about the chaos outside.
Prince Nolan glanced at the chessboard and casually placed a piece: "The Si Clan Army is the Emperor's trusted force. I don't want to make the Emperor sad."
"The Emperor is already sad." Young Marshal Colin Si is showing signs of rebellion.
Prince Nolan replied insincerely, "My deepest sympathies."
William couldn't help but laugh, glancing at the deadlocked chess match before tossing his piece aside: "I'm done!"
"Let's go see what's happening." Prince Nolan casually tossed his chess piece onto the board and stood up, heading outside.
If they didn't go out soon, it was still uncertain whether Prince Rowan's guards could even make it out of the city.
The timing was perfect. As Prince Nolan and William stepped outside, they saw Nolan's personal guards single-handedly beating up Prince Rowan's elite troops.
Prince Rowan's guards were considered formidable in the Capital, but compared to Prince Nolan's men, they were outclassed. Every one of Nolan's guards was a survivor of life-and-death battles, hardened by real war.
Most importantly, the personal guards by Prince Nolan's side were not the original group—the previous ones died at Colin Si's hands. These were trusted confidants Nolan had secretly brought in.
There wasn't a drop of blood on the ground, nor were Prince Rowan's guards lying about wailing. No one had visible injuries on their faces, but they were still utterly unable to fight back.
Prince Nolan was very pleased with his men's performance—they vented their anger but knew when to stop, showing real restraint. After watching for a while, Nolan finally spoke: "Enough."
Prince Nolan's order came late, but Prince Rowan's men dared not complain. The moment Nolan appeared, everyone noticed—he and William were impossible to ignore.
"Your Highness, long life to you!" Nolan's men instantly withdrew, switching from fierce warriors to kneeling in terror in a heartbeat.
Watching Nolan's men try to act scared was almost comical. William couldn't help laughing—it was tough for these hardened men to pull off.
Seeing this, Prince Rowan's guards reluctantly knelt as well. Nolan's status was undeniable—they could shout at his men, but didn't dare challenge Nolan himself. Only after kneeling did they realize their whole bodies ached.
"Do you know your crime?" Prince Nolan made no move to let them stand, questioning them from above.
Rowan's men kept silent, but Nolan's guards admitted fault without hesitation: "We know our crime."
"Since you know your crime, go back and accept your punishment—twenty strokes of the army cane each." Nolan said expressionlessly. The guards responded in low voices; not one dared protest.
Rowan's men looked relieved—until Prince Nolan added, "Escort Princess Vivian and her party out of the city first. You can take your punishment afterwards."
"Yes, Your Highness!" Nolan's men answered loudly, while Rowan's men grew angry. One impulsive guard stood up and protested, "Prince Nolan, we marched all night and are exhausted. We need three days to rest before we can travel again."
"Rest? You're Eastlyn's elite soldiers, not to be compared with useless guards. Only incompetent troops need constant rest." Prince Nolan replied arrogantly, throwing Rowan's earlier insult right back at them.
Rowan's guards flushed red, unable to argue back. That morning, they'd called Nolan's men useless—yet now they'd been utterly beaten. Didn't that make them even more useless?
Nolan didn't give them a chance to speak, declaring righteously that since his own men had injured Rowan's guards, as compensation, his guards would 'escort' Princess Vivian and her group out of the city—and he had to see them leave safely with his own eyes.
"Prince Nolan, Princess Vivian is unwell and can't travel right now. Please allow us to stay two more days." Rowan's guards were determined not to leave.
Leaving as soon as they arrived—what would happen to their reputation if word got out?
"There are Imperial Physicians in the Capital. To avoid delaying Princess Vivian's treatment, you'd best leave quickly—unless you want her to die on the road." Prince Nolan sneered, then barked at his own men: "Why are you still standing there? Princess Vivian is gravely ill—escort her out immediately. If you delay her treatment, you'll answer for it."
"Yes, Your Highness!" Nolan's guards obeyed, forcibly driving Rowan's men out whether they liked it or not. To preserve a shred of dignity, Rowan's guards could only grit their teeth and leave.
Watching the disgruntled group depart, William Wang Jinling glanced thoughtfully at Prince Nolan: "Do you want Princess Vivian dead?"
"I'm not so kind as to clean up other people's messes. Whether Princess Vivian dies of illness is Rowan's problem. If you want her dead, go ahead—I'm not getting involved." Princess Vivian's value is limited; once Rowan and the Empress have squeezed her dry, her death day will come.
Princess Vivian chose the wrong allies. Rowan is hardly honorable, and the Empress would never agree to him marrying a foreign princess.
William understood the meaning behind Nolan's words, saying nothing—he simply watched Princess Vivian leave, deep in thought.
Princess Vivian was half a disciple of their late teacher, and thus his junior. Yet she was also one of the people responsible for his death.
He'd considered killing Princess Vivian himself, but now it seemed he wouldn't need to.
When William returned to the courtyard, Uncle Zhan was waiting in the study. Seeing William, the old man clung to him like a drowning man to a lifeline, urgently asking, "William, was it really Prince Nathan of Southlyn who exposed Yana Zhan's parentage?"
"How did you know?" William instantly realized that Nolan had deliberately leaked the news; otherwise, House Zhan could never have uncovered it so quickly.
Nolan, you're truly devious—always looking to borrow someone else's knife.
"So it's true, then. But why? House Zhan never meddled in royal succession. Our patron's downfall was his own fault, and we've had nothing to do with it since. Why would Nathan do this?" Uncle Zhan was shaken, stumbling backward in shock.
Of course—it was all to frame Prince Nolan.
But William couldn't say this aloud. He could only shake his head: "I don't know either. Prince Damien has disappeared, and Southlyn is hunting him as a wanted man."
Uncle Zhan didn't say much, but his face was furious: "Fine, Prince Damien! If you act without righteousness, don't blame House Zhan for being unfaithful."
With that, he stormed off. William knew Uncle Zhan would certainly tell Prince Nathan where Damien was hiding. In doing so, House Zhan—always neutral—would be dragged into the succession struggle.
William sighed for House Zhan's future. Right now, Prince Nathan looked sure to win, but in succession battles, the true victor is never clear until the end.
What does it matter to be Crown Prince? Prince Terrence Valen of Westlyn was once unrivaled, but in the end, even his fate was uncertain.
House Zhan's future looked grim, but William had done all he could. To them, he was still an outsider; he could not change their destiny.