Who said the eldest daughter is crazy? She's clearly a woman of high rank and influence in the

Tuoba Lie's Adam's apple bobbed. The hall was so quiet that the faint crackling of the candlelight burning in the bronze lamp could be heard. All the officials' eyes fell on him, and the direction of those gazes changed more than halfway in just a few breaths.

Tuoba Lie was silent for a moment, then he stood in the center of the hall, his voice two octaves lower than usual: "Your Majesty, I request that you examine this before everyone."

The king handed the secret letter to the Left Prime Minister, who unfolded it and read it aloud in front of all the civil and military officials.

The letter detailed the Regent's report to Empress Daying on the layout of granaries in Beishuo, the allocation of border defenses, and the rotation of royal guards. It also included the statement, "When the time is right, we can launch a joint campaign in the north and south as agreed."

When the last line was read, gasps rose and fell in the hall, and two of the generals who were closest to Tuoba Lie in the ranks subconsciously took a half step back.

Tuoba Lie stood in the center of the hall, his back still straight, but the knuckles of his fingers gripping the jade belt at his waist had turned white. It had been read aloud in public by the Left Prime Minister, which meant that his entire route for transmitting secret messages had been figured out.

Before he could speak, the king turned his head and glanced towards the palace gate.

Shen Qingya stood inside the palace gate, dressed in a dark blue military officer's uniform, with a narrow-bladed longsword hanging at his waist and the "Dark Pivot" iron plaque hanging on his leather belt. At the same moment the king looked over, he raised his hand and made a very short gesture.

Two rows of imperial guards silently emerged from behind the brocade curtains on either side of the palace gate. Their armor was neat and their steps were steady. They pressed in from the flanks in a fan-shaped formation, surrounding Tuoba Lie in the center of the palace.

Three steps away, the sword still sheathed, the encirclement was clear to everyone – today was not a court assembly for deliberation, but a trap to close the net.

Tuoba Lie stood in the center of the encirclement. He looked at the king's solemn young face and suddenly laughed, a short laugh that came from someone who had been pushed to the brink of despair: "Your Majesty has good methods."

The king raised his hand, and two guards stepped forward, one on each side, to grab Tuoba Lie's elbows and lead him away from the center of the hall, through a side door, into a side hall to await trial.

Tuoba Lie did not struggle when he was taken away. His back was still straight, and his dark purple python robe flipped in the morning light before disappearing into the shadows of the side door.

The hall remained silent for a long time. All the civil and military officials stood still, and no one moved or spoke first.

The officials who were close to Tuoba Lie had different expressions. Some were wiping their sweat with their heads down, some were rapidly calculating their future, and a few stood there with pale faces, like puppets whose backbone had been removed.

The king put the secret letter back on the table and glanced at the court officials: "The regent has been taken into prison to await trial. You need not be alarmed. I will only investigate Tuoba Lie himself and will not implicate anyone else."

She paused, her voice growing even deeper, "But what if someone had been passing messages to him, hiding evidence, or secretly conspiring during this time—"

The king didn't finish his sentence, but that unfinished sentence sent chills down one's spine even more than if it had been spoken.

The court meeting ended before noon, and the civil and military officials filed out, their pace much faster than when they arrived, as if they were in a hurry to go back and sort out whether there was any relationship between themselves and Tuoba Lie.

The news that Tuoba Lie had been imprisoned spread throughout the four gates of Shuojing within half a day.

Those old subordinates he had left behind after more than ten years of entrenched power were like a swarm of ants with their heads cut off; in the first few days, they all huddled in their mansions, not daring to make any rash moves.

No one stood up to speak up for him, because the secret letter had been read aloud in front of the entire court, and the wax seal, handwriting, and content all matched perfectly.

The first to react were two people who had served as advisors to Tuoba Lie for seven years.

That night, they secretly packed their valuables and tried to leave the mansion through the west side gate, but they were caught red-handed by the secret agents who had been lying in wait. All their belongings and the secret letters that had not yet been sent were intercepted, and they were taken to a secret room where they shared a cell with Tuoba Lie.

That night in prison, Tuoba Lie sat on a stone bed covered with a thin layer of straw. Opposite him sat his two former advisors. Separated by an iron bar, the three of them remained silent for a long time in the dimly lit room.

The highest-ranking officer among his former subordinates sent a letter of apology to the Left Prime Minister's residence on the morning of the second day. The letter included all the original drafts of his correspondence with Tuoba Lie over the past few years, along with a fragment of a secret letter that had not yet been completely burned.

On the afternoon of the day the letter of apology was delivered, Shen Qingya stood under the corridor of the Imperial Guard barracks, clutching the draft of the lieutenant general's letter of apology in his hand. The winter sunlight made the shoulder line of his dark blue military uniform appear white.

He looked down and finished reading the last page, folded the document and put it in his pocket, then glanced at the direction of the Hall of Diligent Governance.

The lights were still on, and the king's vermilion brush was still marking new folds on the desk, casting a silhouette of a seated figure on the window paper.

On the 23rd day of the eleventh lunar month, a light snow fell silently, covering the gray tiles and stone slabs of the Shuojing Royal Court with a thin layer of pure white.

On the night the snow fell, the Imperial Advisor Xi Yueli announced to the public that "his illness has been relapsed and he needs to rest and recuperate."

The king personally issued an edict ordering the Grand Preceptor to temporarily relocate to the Xichen Pavilion in the northern corner of the royal court. The pavilion was situated on high ground, with the back mountain of the royal court to the north and the roof ridge of the Qinzheng Hall to the south. It was a place rarely visited by people and was where the former king of Beishuo observed the stars and the qi (vital energy).

The imperial edict clearly states: "During the period of the Imperial Preceptor's illness, all political affairs shall be handled by the Councilor of the Imperial Court and reported directly to the King. The Imperial Preceptor's seal shall not be affixed for the time being."

The next morning, a small blue sedan chair was carried out from the side door of the Imperial Preceptor's bedroom, circled halfway along the north corridor of the royal court, and entered through the corner gate of Xichen Pavilion.

Accompanying him were only two servants and the doctor wearing a silver-gray mask—he carried a medicine box in one hand and a hand warmer in the other, his moon-white long robe walking very steadily in the fine snow, and he followed into the pavilion in a few steps.

When the news spread, the civil and military officials in the court had their own thoughts. Some breathed a sigh of relief, some clenched their sleeves, and some lowered their heads to count the days.

With the Grand Preceptor on sick leave and the Regent imprisoned, the only people the King can rely on now are the aging Left Chancellor, the newly appointed Shen Qingya, and the envoy from Daying who is still in the guest quarters. All eyes in the court are once again focused on the direction of the throne.

After noon, the bronze bell in the Hall of Diligent Governance rang three times.

The charcoal fire inside the hall burned brighter than usual, and the flames in the bronze incense burner spread warmth throughout the entire hall, creating a clear boundary with the chill outside.

Today, Tuoba Zhao wore a dark blue royal robe. The jade beads hanging from her twelve-tassel crown remained motionless. She stood in front of the throne without sitting down, her hands folded in front of her. The silver dragon pattern on her cuffs shimmered in the candlelight.

After all the civil and military officials had taken their places, the hall was quiet for a moment before Tuoba Zhao spoke:

"I have been on the throne for ten years, and the Imperial Advisor Fu Yuan has assisted me for nine years. The new Imperial Advisor has been in power for less than two months. Now the Imperial Advisor is seriously ill and recuperating, and the Regent is in prison awaiting trial. There is no one in the court to rely on."

She paused, her gaze sweeping from the purple-robed civil official at the head of the line to the green-robed minor official at the end. "But what I have summoned you here to say today is—"

"From now on, I will personally manage the affairs of Beishuo."

The hall was quiet for about three breaths, and then an old minister standing at the head of the civil officials' line knelt down first. The old minister's surname was Yan. He was a veteran of three reigns, with a white beard. He didn't usually show off, but his influence in the Northern Shuo court was enough to make everyone follow suit.

As he knelt, his back was still bent, his forehead touching the gold-brick floor, and his voice was old and solemn: "Your Majesty, we... respectfully request that Your Majesty assume personal rule."