Volume 1, Chapter 43: Welcome, Prince of Northern suppression!

At that moment, Zhao Wujiang dismounted in front of the palace gates. He stroked the head of his chestnut steed and patted the wrapped Tyrant Sword strapped across its flank, as if signaling the horse to take good care of his weapon.

He was neither a military general nor granted any imperial exceptions, and thus could not bring weapons into the palace. Fortunately, the Tyrant Sword had long since recognized him as its master and responded to his call.

Zhao Wujiang straightened his bright red robes and walked toward the ancestral grounds deep within the imperial palace. Today was his wedding day; he hoped everything would go smoothly, but if anything went awry, he would have no choice but to lay waste to the situation.

The palace was deep and vast, flanked by vermilion walls. Zhao Wujiang strode forward as if navigating a boat through water. The swaying of his sleeves hinted at wind and thunder, gradually taking on the majestic momentum of a dragon in flight and a tiger in stride.

Arriving outside the ancestral grounds, his gaze swept past the hazy, blue-tinged curls of incense smoke. He saw the rows of officials kneeling in a dense crowd on the ground, the members of the imperial clan kneeling upon prayer mats, and among the royalty, Li Yunrui dressed in a radiant gown of fiery red.

He saw her, and she saw him. She offered a sweet smile, bright enough to make flowers bloom.

She called out to Zhao Wujiang, eager to run toward him, but her wrist was intercepted and tightly gripped by a large hand extending from within a bright yellow dragon robe.

"Zhao Wujiang..."

Standing at the entrance of the ancestral grounds, the dignified and graceful Empress called out softly.

Zhao Wujiang remembered that in the original novel, after Long Zhan replaced Li Zaiyuan, he had once attempted to take this still-charming Empress for himself. Yet he had underestimated the Empress's backbone; even when choosing to end her own life, she remained to the very end the noble Empress of Great Xia.

Zhao Wujiang withdrew his gaze, cupped his fists, and bowed slightly to his mother-in-law.

"Wujiang pays his respects to Your Majesty the Empress."

The Empress possessed delicate, stunning features and a kind expression. She smiled at Zhao Wujiang and said, "Go on in. Yunrui is waiting for you."

Zhao Wujiang nodded and bowed once more. Supporting the hem of his wedding robe, he prepared to step over the high threshold of the Li imperial family's ancestral grounds when the Empress's gentle voice reached his ears again:

"If today... does not go smoothly... and there are changes... You may protect yourself and leave first... Yunrui will not blame you..."

"I would blame myself." Zhao Wujiang glanced sideways at the Empress and smiled, looking like an innocent, stubborn next-door boy, full of unyielding pride and an indomitable spirit.

The Empress was slightly startled, then smiled brightly, the warmth and fondness in her eyes deepening.

Zhao Wujiang stepped over the high imperial threshold, walked past the kneeling officials, and stood before the doors of the ancestral temple. Before him were entirely members of the imperial family—and some of his own people.

Today, Li Yunrui wore a fiery red wedding dress devoid of excessive pearls and dazzling gems; it was minimalist and clean. The mandarin ducks and countless flowers embroidered across her gown seemed to rise and fall with her every breath and smile.

If previously Li Yunrui's beauty scored a ten in Zhao Wujiang's heart, today she was an eleven. He wasn't afraid of making her proud over that extra point; after all, she was the bride about to mount his horse and enter his home.

Zhao Wujiang was captivated by Li Yunrui's curved eyes. As she looked at him, her gaze was brimming with lingering affection, waiting for him to take her home.

He crossed this final threshold, and even though Li Zaiyuan was gripping her wrist, Li Yunrui struggled to break free and rush to him.

Just as Zhao Wujiang was about to speak, Li Zaiyuan said coldly:

"If you wish to marry my daughter, you must first pass a test!"

"Zhao Wujiang!" Following Li Zaiyuan's words, a tall, exceptionally handsome man slowly stood up from among the officials kneeling before the ancestral temple. It was none other than Long Zhan.

Zhao Wujiang frowned, realizing that Long Zhan's appearance had been authorized by the Emperor.

This destined protagonist of the original book was, after all, standing in his way as a minor villain.

Long Zhan held a bundle of gray cloth, looking both righteous and filled with indignation:

"You only had an engagement with the Seventh Princess, but I truly adore her! Now that you have lost the backing of the Prince of Zhenbei, you are neither a civil nor a military official in the court—you possess nothing but an inherited, empty title of nobility. How can you compare to me, a deputy lieutenant in the骁骑营 (Xiaokiying Cavalry)? Everything I have, I climbed up to earn step by step with my own abilities! What right do you have to be worthy of the Seventh Princess? How could those who cherish her ever willingly allow her lifelong happiness to be buried in your hands? If you want to marry the Seventh Princess today, let's see if you have the ability!"

Emotionally charged, Long Zhan violently yanked the gray cloth with his left hand. A brilliant azure light burst forth from the fabric as he grasped the royal sword, radiating a fierce and intimidating aura.

Zhao Wujiang had anticipated twists, and the Empress had gently warned him. But he hadn't expected the Emperor to actually hand the Heavenly Sword over to Long Zhan.

Did they intend to use this sword to make his blood spill on the spot?

"Hahaha."

In the past, Zhao Wujiang would have wanted to avoid Long Zhan, but since Li Yunrui had chosen him, he refused to back down any further. Besides, it was his wedding day; if he let Long Zhan steal his wife, he would be a cuckolded coward for the rest of his life.

Zhao Wujiang cast a sidelong glance at Long Zhan and said indifferently:

"Today is my wedding day. There are many ways to ward off bad luck, and your blood can certainly be one of them."

The hand with which Long Zhan gripped his sword trembled, ready to strike. "It seems the Heir of Zhenbei is courting death."

Li Yunrui's eyes were filled with anxiety. She wanted to scream out that she truly loved Zhao Wujiang, to explain it to her imperial father and everyone else, and make them let Zhao Wujiang go.

Yet no matter how hard she tried, no sound came from her lips, nor could she move a muscle.

She had been hit with a paralyzing acupoint strike!

With a look of disbelief, the corner of her eye caught sight of her father beside her, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Do not interfere," Li Zaiyuan said coldly, his expression majestic and ruthless.

The Empress, who had followed Zhao Wujiang into the ancestral temple, nodded. She took Li Yunrui's arm and slowly pulled her toward the side door.

With her mute and mobility acupoints sealed, Li Yunrui was forced to take stuttering steps alongside the Empress.

Her father had set a death trap for Zhao Wujiang—how could she possibly leave?

"Zhao Wujiang, run!"

"Hurry and run!"

She screamed internally as two lines of clear tears rolled down her cheeks.

How she wished that at this very moment, she wasn't the woman in the world who understood Zhao Wujiang best; she didn't want to hear his inner thoughts anymore.

She wanted Zhao Wujiang to be able to hear her thoughts, to hear her telling him to run and not get trapped here.

Yet she had already been escorted out the side door of the ancestral temple by the Empress. Struggling to look back, she could only see the hazy blue mist inside the temple.

When Yunyi and the Sixth Brother had wept bitterly, they were right: the Li family's incense burned brightly, yet it felt suffocatingly dense and choking.

Long Zhan was eager for action. To publicly execute Zhao Wujiang today and marry Li Yunrui would be the moment he soared to supreme heights. "I beg Your Majesty's permission for a fair fight with the Heir of Zhenbei to win the hand of the Seventh Princess!"

Everyone looked up toward the monarch seated on high.

"If you wish to be the imperial son-in-law, you must possess the strength to defeat all competitors. Otherwise, you are unworthy of marrying my daughter." Li Zaiyuan's voice grew deeper, like a giant dragon whispering from an abyss:

"Zhao Wujiang, do you dare to fight Long Zhan?"

The imperial clansmen kneeling on their prayer mats and the officials outside the ancestral temple all heard the Emperor's inquiry.

Ever since Long Zhan had jumped out to mock Zhao Wujiang, they had been utterly shocked, but bound by the rules of the ancestral grounds, none dared to speak.

Now, the Emperor's words made everything clear to them.

The Emperor intended to use Long Zhan's hands to eliminate Zhao Wujiang!

Everyone turned their gazes to Zhao Wujiang. This was not an easy question to answer.

If Zhao Wujiang shrank from the fight, he would lose all face today, never able to hold his head high again, and the reputation of the entire Prince of Zhenbei's estate would be largely ruined along with it.

And if he accepted the fight...

Given Long Zhan's martial arts, Zhao Wujiang was bound to lose.

Victory and defeat aside, the most crucial issue was that the Emperor clearly favored Long Zhan, while Zhao Wujiang no longer had the Prince of Zhenbei as his backing!

Once Zhao Wujiang accepted the challenge, Long Zhan could beat him to death right here today!

This was no longer about losing face; it was about losing his life!

"Heir, why not take a step back?"

An older official, unwilling to see the sole bloodline of the Prince of Zhenbei perish thus, stepped forward to persuade him.

"Indeed, life is what matters most; everything else is fleeting."

"The Heir must not act on impulse."

The officials frowned, fixing their attention on Zhao Wujiang's every move, acutely aware that a single misstep would bring eternal regret.

Zhao Wujiang remained silent, leading everyone to believe he was terrified.

In truth, however, he was waiting.

Waiting for his greatest backing to make an entrance.

Suddenly, the ground of the ancestral grounds trembled slightly.

Startled, everyone looked outside. Sharp gasps from eunuchs and palace maids seemed to echo from beyond the grounds, their trailing tails vaguely carrying three words: the Prince of Zhenbei.

Listening closer, the sound grew louder and louder, merging into countless voices.

That was...

A wave of thunderous welcome shaking the heavens and the earth.

"Welcoming the Prince of Zhenbei!"