Preposterous people utter preposterous words and do preposterous deeds. On the seventh day of the first month of the eleventh year of the Qingli era in *Qing Yu Nian*, Fan Xian directed his subordinates to assassinate a high-ranking official in broad daylight and openly murder a Grand Secretary of the Inner Secretariat at the foot of the imperial city. This was truly a preposterous event unprecedented in the *Qing* Kingdom's history. Yet, here he stood, speaking eloquently and claiming to be acting on imperial orders to cleanse the court of evildoers. He seemed to believe this rhetoric could justify his actions today, which was, in itself, utterly preposterous.

However, despite the absurdity, the Emperor's lips curled into a subtly mocking smile, and he did not seem angered. He asked, "When did I give you such an order?"

"Understanding and acting upon the Emperor's will is the duty of us subjects," Fan Xian replied calmly.

Today, taking advantage of the lax security during the post-New Year festivities and the palace's underestimation of his influence and ability to summon his former subordinates from the Supervisory Council, he had been able to act with lightning speed, eliminating the core members of the He faction in Kyoto.

The main reason he achieved this strategic objective was the suddenness, even the abruptness, of Fan Xian's actions. It was so unexpected that neither the palace nor the court had any warning.

To unleash a thunderclap in silence, shocking the world into covering their ears in fear, was Fan Xian's intent. He had to consider the consequences of failure and preemptively eliminate those officials who, like hunting dogs, were relentlessly pursuing him and his allies.

By killing decisively, he hoped that if he were to fail, the officials and subordinates he wanted to protect would have an easier time.

The thunderclap had sounded, but it could not continue indefinitely. It was a fleeting moment. The court would quickly react, and once the powerful state machinery of the *Qing* Kingdom was fully engaged, with its formidable military force entering Kyoto, Fan Xian's faction would be destroyed like withered grass, especially within the capital.

Presumably, the Kyoto Garrison had already begun a joint operation with the Thirteen City Gate Guards for a purge. The Imperial Guards, responsible for palace security, would not intervene, but that was already sufficient. Loyal subordinates of Fan Xian had already begun to hide in the shadows, but for Fan Xian, this was far from enough. He had to create a door, as wide as possible, for those loyal to him under the strict laws of *Qing* and the Emperor's wrath. This was the root of his preposterous words with the Emperor.

"Grand Secretary He's residence kept two fierce dogs, known for their integrity. However, his two cousins in the He clan's ancestral county also had a reputation for being fierce, never hesitating to seize land and beauties,"

Fan Xian said with a slight curl of his lips, "As for selling offices and accepting bribes, that didn't happen. But in the last three years, Grand Secretary He's seemingly dilapidated residence has acquired dozens of famous paintings from the pre-Wei era."

"Fan Wujiu was formerly a subordinate of Chen Ze, one of the Eight Generals. Although he left the Prince's residence, he also participated in the rebellion. After the Kyoto rebellion was quelled three years ago, this man did not surrender to the court but went into hiding, joining Grand Secretary He's residence under an assumed name. His motives are self-evident. And Grand Secretary He knowingly harbored him, his intentions unknown."

Fan Xian spoke slowly and calmly. The Supervisory Council had long been investigating He Zongwei, but due to the Emperor's favor, the hard-earned evidence could not be brought to light. Today, Fan Xian would naturally not be concerned about anything, especially since he knew that the Emperor was well aware of these matters, even more so than himself.

"A month ago, Fan Wujiu was mysteriously attacked and nearly killed." Fan Xian suddenly smiled, looking at the Emperor's profile. Because the assassination of Fan Wujiu had actually been ordered by the Emperor. "Fortunately, someone under my command happened to pass by and saved him. In the end, he gave a statement, which should have been sent to the Supervisory Council by now."

Back then, He Zongwei and the widow of that Lord Peng were being chased by the Prime Minister's residence, and the Second Prince and Prince Li Hongcheng happened to pass by. Now, the man in He Zongwei's residence was killed, and Shadow happened to pass by. Things in life are always like this.

"What intrigues me even more is that Grand Secretary He is not young, yet he has never married, not even a concubine or a maid, and he lives with his widowed aunt in..."

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...

Just as Fan Xian was elaborating on Grand Secretary He's crimes with great relish, the Emperor finally spoke coldly: "Enough. Lord He served the country wholeheartedly. Even if he offended you in the past, he died at your hands. Why defile a dead man with such vile words?"

"The Emperor is right."

"You should know that I know these things."

"Yes, Your Majesty. But the people of the world are not aware that the Grand Secretary He, whom Your Majesty favors so much, is such a man."

Fan Xian had already wiped the smile off his face, calmly and unyieldingly retorting, "I have sent people to confiscate the He residence. The accounting records and evidence of crimes will be copied and sent to the Supervisory Council. It shouldn't be long before Director Yan personally delivers them to the palace. As for the original, it has been sent to the Danbo Bookstore and the Xishan Bookstore, or perhaps elsewhere. In a few days, the whole world will see this extra edition."

"How could these things be done without the Eight Bureaus of the Supervisory Council? Are you threatening me? Do you want the people of the world to laugh at me?" The Emperor smiled, his lips slightly upturned.

"I dare not. I am only asking Your Majesty to think twice. Today's events will surely shock the world. Regardless of whether the official historians can stand tall, there will still be unofficial histories and anecdotes, which will be recorded in the books and left in the annals of history."

Fan Xian lowered his head slightly and said calmly, "Your Majesty is a wise ruler. Whether I, the former Director of the Supervisory Council, am mad, or Grand Secretary He deserves to die, it will not look good written on paper. But if Your Majesty's eyes are like torches, it will be a different story."

"That sounds like a feasible plan. But if it really is like this, wouldn't the court appear ungrateful?" The Emperor looked at this son with a cold and mocking expression, uncertain whether he was truly moved by Fan Xian's words.

"All subjects are ultimately the Emperor's slaves. It is insignificant if a slave dies. If his death can glorify the Emperor's benevolence and power, it can be considered his honor." Fan Xian's words were extremely harsh, and it was unclear whether he was mocking himself and the officials of the court, the already deceased Grand Secretary He, or... the ruthless monarch in front of him who always remembered the words "gentle" and "benevolent."

"The court acts according to its own laws. Even if He Zongwei is guilty, he should be taken into custody by the relevant authorities, interrogated properly, and given a public trial. How can he be brutally murdered?" The Emperor said coldly, perhaps not detecting the sarcasm in Fan Xian's words.

"Therefore, the officials who acted out of righteous indignation today are guilty, but ultimately, they understood the Emperor's will, and their sins can be forgiven. As for me, this insane brute, I am naturally unforgivable." Fan Xian smiled wryly and said, "I will exchange my life for the silencing of the world's discussions. Surely no one will think He Zongwei was at a disadvantage."

The Emperor listened to these seemingly gentle but actually cold words without showing any emotion, and said, "However, I... still feel guilty towards Grand Secretary He in my heart."

"The dead are gone." Fan Xian spat out these four words unhurriedly.

Unexpectedly, a trace of melancholy and gloom appeared on the Emperor's face. He looked at him quietly for a long time before saying, "If the dead are truly gone, why would you enter the palace today?"

...

...

Fan Xian was silent. Regarding this topic, the Emperor and he no longer needed to discuss it. The difference in the way he addressed his father and the Emperor during his last visit to the palace had already outlined this divergence. And Fan Xian's determined attitude in entering the palace today clearly explained his intentions.

However, Fan Xian had to make these words about today's storm in Kyoto clear, because even a slight shift in the court's characterization of today's killings would have a completely different impact on those loyal to him. The Emperor's words were as heavy as heaven.

The Xishan Bookstore and Danbo Bookstore had long been prepared to print and distribute it to the world, but Fan Xian was not trying to threaten the Emperor with a mere reputation, because that was impossible. He simply understood the Emperor's ruthlessness and his principle of prioritizing interests above all else too well.

Now that He Zongwei was dead, no matter how much he had been valued and appreciated by the Emperor during his lifetime, he was just a cold corpse with no use. For the general ministers and officials, the Qing Emperor regarded them as slaves, which was a chilling truth.

How to ensure that the death of Grand Secretary He did not excessively shake the foundations of the Qing Kingdom's court was the most important thing the Emperor was considering. And Fan Xian was trying to use his prepared strategy to persuade the Emperor to accept it. As for the crime of poisoning the ministers, he could not escape it, nor did he want to escape it. His actions today had touched the bottom line of a feudal dynasty. Whether from the Emperor's standpoint or the standpoint of the scholar-officials of the world, there was no place for him, Fan Xian, in the vast Qing Kingdom.

What was even more strange was that the imperial family always had to maintain a gentle and benevolent demeanor. Even the monarchs who regarded the common people as ants did not care about the death of a minister. They had some harsh thoughts in their hearts, but even their closest ministers would carefully raise the banner of righteousness to cover it up when making suggestions. They would never be as naked and vulgar as Fan Xian was today.

Fan Xian did it anyway, said it anyway, and strangely, the Emperor did not feel ashamed but simply listened. Perhaps only between these two imperial father and son could there be such naked, bloody, and shameless conversations. If someone were to hear the content of their conversation at this time, in addition to being shocked by the content itself, they would also notice another very serious issue.

In the desolate winter palace, from the beginning of the conversation until now, Fan Xian had not performed any etiquette, not bowed, not knelt, not addressed himself as a subject, but only used "I," responding calmly and speaking his mind frankly, without restraint.

...

...

The Emperor tolerated Fan Xian's audacity because there was a faint chill in the depths of his eyes. He simply waved his hand in disgust. Others might not understand the meaning behind every movement of the Emperor, but Fan Xian was different. He quickly straightened his body, his expression returned to calm, and his spirits lifted slightly. He knew that the verdict on today's events would have some slight deviations. Although the charges were only slightly different, the difference in the degree of the court's open pursuit and covert suppression was extremely significant.

A gust of bleak wind blew past, and the light snow on the long grass behind them was swept up, falling on them, adding to the coldness and harshness. If the deceased He Zongwei knew that the Emperor he had served faithfully until his death and Fan Xian, who had killed him, had only used a conversation to make it impossible for him to die cleanly, his resentment would probably be even greater.

But this was a feudal dynasty, this was the so-called family rule. In the eyes of this pair of shameless father and son, the reputations of both Emperor *Qing* and Fan Xian were more important than that of He Zongwei, the minister who had initially risen to prominence. As for whether this would make the ministers feel disheartened, that was a matter for the palace to handle specifically in the future.

The snow continued to fall slowly and coldly. The Emperor slowly turned around and silently looked at Fan Xian, who was about the same height as him. For a long time, he did not speak. Usually, when Fan Xian was in front of the Emperor, he would always unconsciously hunch over or lower his head. It was only today that Fan Xian stood straight that the Emperor realized that this son of his was already as tall as him.

An aura of terrifying coldness and pressure emanated from the man in the bright yellow dragon robe, welding Fan Xian to the snow-covered grassland. This aura was not deliberately released but simply changed with the state of mind and emotions. The incomparably majestic substance revealed itself, about to affect the surrounding environment.

Fan Xian's expression did not change. He breathed the air in the snowflakes calmly and seriously. The two of them had talked for so long, and they both knew that this moment would eventually come. Now that He Zongwei's matter was resolved, it was naturally their turn.

"I am very curious, what do you rely on to face me alone in the palace?" The Emperor's face was calm, and he looked up slightly with a hint of mockery and disdain.

"There is no reliance at all." Fan Xian slowly closed his eyes, and after a moment of silence, he took a deep breath and bravely opened his eyes, looking directly at the unfathomable monarch in front of him. He said in a tone that was so calm that it was almost numb, "I... just want a fair fight with Your Majesty."

A fair fight! A fair fight? After a slight daze, the Emperor could not help but laugh, his laughter deep and distant, full of absurd meaning, echoing in the deep winter palace, not knowing how many hibernating creatures under the frozen soil were awakened.

The Emperor's eyes narrowed slightly, and a strange smile flashed in the corners of his thin eyes. His voice was slightly hoarse as he said, "You have no right to ask me for fairness."

Yes, in front of the Emperor, what right did Fan Xian have to demand fairness? His sister was still in the palace, his family was still in Kyoto, and his subordinates, although they had had a good time today, were still just a group of ants who could not make waves in the Emperor's eyes. It was precisely because the Emperor was confident and powerful that he did not take today's turmoil in Kyoto seriously. As long as he was willing, he could easily mobilize the army and use the power he held in the world to suppress Fan Xian to death, without allowing him to move even a bit.

The four words "a fair fight" were so arrogant, so brave... but also so naive. The imperial palace was not a world of outlaws. If you want to fight, the monarch does not bother to fight with you, so what can you do?

Fan Xian's expression did not change at all. He calmly and firmly looked back at the Emperor's gaze and said, word by word, "The qualification lies in strength, the strength to seek a quick death. I think I still have that."

As he said this, the Emperor's eyes narrowed slightly. His deep gaze naturally swept past Fan Xian's shoulder and looked towards the vast and continuous palace complex in the southeast direction. The normally bustling palace was incredibly quiet in the snow today. There were no abrupt sounds, and no disturbances occurred. However, the Emperor's heart moved slightly. He knew that there was a problem there, because Fan Xian had come to the palace alone today seeking a swift and bloody revenge, so naturally he had prepared arrangements and presented the chips to show his qualifications.

If the world was a game of chess, the chessboard between the father and son was seven territories, three forces, countless prefectures and counties, and the pieces were hundreds of millions of people, endless wealth, and the hearts and minds of the world. And what Fan Xian had done today, in addition to the word "brave," was to take the chessboard back from the world and turn it into the cold imperial soil under his feet, and remove those pieces from the chessboard, leaving only himself and Emperor *Qing*. This was his ruthlessness and decisiveness, his ruthlessness towards himself and his decisiveness towards the Emperor.

But to get the Emperor to abandon the chessboard of the world and to ensure the safety of those chess pieces, Fan Xian had to have enough chips to convince the other party, even including the death of He Zongwei. If Fan Xian did not produce enough evidence of lethality, then he would not even be qualified to say this sentence.

The first chip Fan Xian threw out was a fire, a fire in winter. This fire was now burning in a quiet but heavily guarded room somewhere in the palace. A dozen eunuch masters who had never cared about worldly affairs and were only responsible for guarding the things in that room looked somewhat blankly at the flames gradually spitting out from the window, knowing that they were finished.

Not long after, the fire in that room was extinguished, but the files and books inside had already been burned to ashes, leaving no trace behind.

...

...

The Emperor's gaze looked at the palace in the southeast corner. After a while, he saw black smoke rising, and then the black smoke dissipated in the snowflakes, disappearing without a trace. His eyes finally gradually became cold and dignified.

"The place where the copied internal treasury process is stored, even few people in the palace know about it." The Emperor's gaze did not fall on Fan Xian's face but said coldly, "You were able to find it and burn it down in one fell swoop, which really surprised me."

Fan Xian stood aside and said, "There are only two copies of the internal treasury process in the world, one in Minbei and one in the palace. Since I can burn the one in the palace, I can also burn the one in Minbei... Whether Su Wenmao is dead or not, I believe Your Majesty should understand that I have the strength to do all this in Jiangnan and in the internal treasury."

After saying this, Fan Xian looked at the Emperor's calm face and sighed in his heart. The internal treasury was the foundation of the *Qing* Kingdom. However, upon hearing that the foundation was damaged, the Emperor was calm as usual. This kind of demeanor and realm had truly transcended the ordinary and entered the realm of saints. How could he, a mortal, resist it?

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(Sleep is still chaotic, the brain is still anxious, the fingers are working hard...)