MTLNOVEL Chapter 178: Who Will Stop Me?
The head didn't bounce. It landed with a soft squelch, rolling just enough to face the Emperor on an angle. The man who thought he was the ruler of the world stared at the head as if it might rise again and speak.
Clearly, the Emperor had never seen war or blood, because he was seriously squeamish about stuff like that.
I stepped back and crossed my arms in front of my chest, my eyes glittering with quiet satisfaction.
No one moved.
Not a single minister dared breathe too loud. The guards near the entrance didn't reach for their weapons. The generals didn't speak.
And it was all because of me and the fact that no one knew what I would do next.
The Emperor rose slowly, his face pale, the fury in his eyes barely contained. "You—"
"Are standing in your presence," I interrupted sweetly, "covered in your son's blood. Well, to be fair, I'm also covered in a lot of my own blood, too. But there is no point in arguing over schematics."
His lips curled into a sneer. "You murdered a prince... my favorite Prince. And just how are you going to account for your actions in front of the Yuan family?"
"I removed a traitor," I replied, unbothered about the not so subtle threats that he was throwing out. "But call it murder if it makes you feel better. Shall I go collect more? I forgot how fun it was to let loose a bit. The palace has been so… confining…"
My gaze drifted pointedly toward the nearest table—toward the ministers who had probably just that morning been whispering about my disappearance.
One of them dropped his teacup.
Zhu Mingyu didn't speak.
He didn't have to.
Because everyone in that room finally saw what he'd known for weeks.
I wasn't a woman that they could control. I was the weapon they were promised when I first appeared in the middle of court, climbing out of a trunk. I was the threat that kept other countries in check.
And now, I have officially chosen a side.
And it wasn't the country of Daiyu.
The Emperor's fingers twitched at his side. His lips parted as if to shout, to summon someone—anyone—to drag me away in chains. But no one moved. They all knew better.
Not one soldier lifted a hand.
Not one voice rose to object.
They all just… waited.
Because I had killed the Third Prince and walked away untouched. Because I had survived the hell he'd dragged me into, I survived being tortured for three days and still returned to the court with a smile on my face.
And let's face it…no one in that camp—not the Red Demons, not the generals, not even the Crown Prince himself—looked surprised to see me alive.
In fact, they looked relieved.
Zhu Mingyu finally stood, slow and steady, and approached the table where the Third Prince's head still lay, its vacant eyes locked on nothing.
He reached forward, took the bloodstained scroll from beside it, and held it up for all to see.
"This list was written by the man whose head now rests before you," he said calmly. "A man who would have betrayed this country to foreign powers and burned the capital to the ground."
He turned toward his father.
"Shall we mourn him, Father? Or thank her for removing the son who wanted your head more than he clearly wanted his next breath?"
The Emperor's eyes narrowed, but his mouth stayed shut.
He looked old now. Not just aged, but hollowed—like something inside him had finally cracked. The silence that followed Mingyu's words rang louder than any accusation.
He glanced at the ministers, but none would meet his eyes.
They were watching me like I was a tiger in their midst.
I hadn't moved from where I stood beside the Crown Prince, staking my claim. My blood-slicked robes stuck to my arms, my hair damp with sweat and gore. The soft crunch of my feet as I shifted my weight on the straw-covered floor was the only sound in the pavilion.
When I spoke again, my tone was calm. "I didn't kill him for power," I sighed, scratching off some dried blood from the back of my hand. "I killed him because he wouldn't stop. Not when I asked him politely. Not even when I bled."
My voice remained even, but I couldn't help the smirk that was fighting to appear on my face.
"I told you once before, Your Majesty. I don't serve anyone. It never would have mattered who I married or what your plans were for me. I make my own decisions, and I will not allow myself to suffer like this for no reason. He was willing to kill his sister in law to get what he wanted. I couldn't let that happen."
The Emperor's lips thinned.
"You presume too much," he said coldly.
"I presume nothing." I met his gaze, unflinching. "You've already proven what you are. I'm just the one who survived long enough to say it aloud."
Zhu Mingyu didn't speak. He didn't need to.
Because in that moment, the whole court understood—
The Emperor no longer ruled by fear.
Someone else did.
The Emperor sat back down, slow and stiff, like every bone in his body ached.
He didn't speak again.
Not a command. Not a protest. Nothing.
The ministers, sensing the shift, bowed their heads slightly—not to him, but to the space between him and the travel throne.
To the Crown Prince.
And then to me were I stood beside him.
I turned my face slightly toward Mingyu, speaking low enough that only he could hear. "Do I need to disappear again?"
He glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "No. They already understand."
I hummed, thoughtful. "Good. I'm tired of hiding."
Then I stepped back from the table and crossed my arms. The ministers parted to make room. No one stopped me. No one dared.
Zhu Mingyu looked down at the scroll again, his voice even as he addressed the room.
"This list will be reviewed. Quietly. But if any of you think this was an act of rebellion, think again."
He let the scroll roll closed.
"It was mercy."
A few faces paled.
"Next time," he added, eyes sharp as razors, "we won't be so merciful."
He walked out of the tent without waiting for dismissal, and I followed slowly behind him. "Just remember," I purred at the Ministers who stared at us with pale faces. "He's the nice one in the relationship."
I walked out, letting the head of the Third Prince remain, staring into the void of his own failure…silent proof that the rules had changed.