Bloodbath at the Eastern Palace

For twelve years, the snowstorms of the northern frontier buried him. Twelve years ago, he was Xiao Jingyan, Crown Prince of the Great Qian Dynasty. His mother died suddenly, he was stripped of his position, and he was exiled three thousand li away. Everyone thought he had long since died in a wolf’s belly at Luoxia Mountain Pass. Twelve years later, he has returned. In an old robe, carrying a black sword, he walks through the snow into Chang’an. No one at court recognizes his face. The officials take him for a down-and-out wandering cultivator from the northern frontier, seeking a post at the Imperial Astronomy Bureau. No one knows he survived the encirclement by demonic cultivators in Netherworld Valley. No one knows that the Sword Venerable of the northern frontier’s direct disciple has appeared on the streets of the imperial capital. Someone asks him to investigate an old case: the ironclad evidence that the Crown Prince “rebelled” twelve years ago. He takes the dossier, looks it over, and smiles. The forged secret letter bears the Grand Preceptor’s handwriting, but the words are the emperor’s. Following this lead, he uncovers the cause of his mother’s death, the blood on the Grand Princess’s hands, and a secret powerful enough to overturn the entire Great Qian Dynasty: the man sitting on the Dragon Throne is not the late emperor’s blood at all. The man who raised him in the northern frontier for twelve years is. Father and son cross swords in Zichen Hall. Brothers drink together in the Eastern Palace. As the officials of the court kneel beneath the vermilion steps, Xiao Jingyan ascends the throne in black robes and crimson skirts. He enters the cold palace and offers one last stick of incense before his mother’s spirit tablet. Outside the hall, the sun shines bright. “Mother, your son has come home.”