MTLNOVEL Chapter 188: Let Them See
The skies above the Red Demon camp were still heavy with smoke when I stepped out of the command tent, my boots pressing fresh prints into blood-streaked dirt. The scent of steel, sweat, and something scorched lingered in the air—not unpleasant, not anymore. It smelled like survival.
Mingyu walked ahead of me, slower than usual, but there was nothing hesitant in his stride. His robes had been changed, deep red and black, the color of warning banners and fresh kills. He no longer bothered with the neutral shades of a peacekeeping prince.
'Let them see,' his silence said. 'Let them see what I've become.'
The guards lining our path didn't bow. They dropped to their knees, their heads bowed as they pressed their fists to their chests in reverence. Every single one of them.
He didn't look at them, and neither did I.
"Do you think they understand yet?" I asked, my voice low as we continued walking forward.
Mingyu didn't answer right away. We reached the center of camp—the main square where morning drills once happened, where supplies were handed out and scouts reported. Now, it was where the scrolls had been burned.
The ashes were still visible, dark smudges smeared into the gravel.
The soldiers almost treated it like a sacred site, the beginning of the end of the Daiyu Empire.
"They understand fear," he said eventually, eyes on the remains. "Respect takes longer."
"They'll learn both," I shrugged. I didn't want to rule, it wasn't on the bingo card of my life, but I was more than willing to stand beside the man that I married, I was more than willing to fight for my place in this world.
A short distance away, Zhu Deming and Shi Yaozu were speaking with Sun Longzi. Their faces were unreadable—calm, composed—but even from here I could see the shift. They were speaking less like military men and more like ministers.
Mingyu had begun his transformation, and so had they.
We were no longer preparing for war. We were preparing to rule.
"Today," Mingyu said without turning his head, "we return to the capital."
I blinked once. "That's a bit sudden," I said, not prepared for that. Going back to the capital meant going back to the manor, and all the issues that that brought.
"It wasn't all that sudden," he sighed, finally looking at me. "More like a calculated attack. The Emperor is cracking, and the ministers are floundering. Now is the moment we take control of the court while it still pretends to function."
"And your father?" I asked raising an eyebrow. That man wouldn't willingly hand over his throne and all the power.
"He won't stop us," he said simply.
He didn't say because he's weak or because he owes me. He said it like fact—like gravity or death.
I nodded once, not believing him any more than he believed his own words, then turned to Yaozu. "You'll ride ahead. Clear the route. No nobles, no merchants, no traveling officials are to get in our way."
Yaozu bowed. "Understood."
Deming handed me a fresh roll of parchment. "You'll want to look at this. It's a list of which districts still belong to the Emperor and which have already pledged themselves to Mingyu's name."
I unrolled it, skimming quickly. "Half the court is already on our side."
"For now," Deming replied. "They'll turn the second they feel threatened."
I handed it back. "Then we make them too scared to turn."
We left that afternoon.
There was no ceremony, no trumpets. Just the sound of horse hooves, steel armor, and the steady march of those who knew they were returning to a place that no longer ruled them.
The roads between the camp and the capital were quieter than usual—empty, almost unnervingly so. Yaozu had done his job well. No caravans passed us. No travelers dared approach. Even the common folk seemed to sense something in the air and kept behind shuttered doors.
By the time the outer walls of the capital rose into view, the sky had begun to dim. A winter dusk. Soft pink clouds bled into the horizon like wounds poorly stitched.
The guards at the southern gate scrambled as we approached. One of them opened his mouth to speak—maybe to announce protocol, maybe to demand a writ.
He stopped when he saw my face.
When he saw Mingyu's.
The gates opened without a word.
Inside the city, the atmosphere had shifted. No bells. No cheering. Just hundreds of citizens lining the streets, silent and watching as our party moved through.
"This is not a celebration," Yizhen muttered beside me. "It's more like a funeral procession."
"For the old dynasty," I conceeded.
The palace loomed ahead, pale against the darkening sky. I felt the weight of the walls as we passed through the courtyard, every step echoing in stone.
And then the doors opened.
The Emperor did not rise to greet us.
He didn't even look at Mingyu.
He sat slumped on the jade throne, his fingers twitching faintly, a goblet of wine resting in one hand. The ministers who had not fled to their estates stood in two silent rows. Their eyes flicked between me and the Crown Prince like children trying to guess which parent would strike first.
Mingyu did not stop at the foot of the dais.
He kept walking—past the steps, past the gold-trimmed rugs, straight up to the base of the throne.
"Father," he said, voice even.
The Emperor looked up slowly. His face was pale, his eyes rimmed in red. He hadn't shaved.
He said nothing.
Mingyu reached into his sleeve and pulled out a document. "This is an imperial decree. Written in your name, though I doubt you remember authoring it. It states that all affairs of state will now be handled by the Crown Prince directly, effective immediately."
No one moved.
Not even the Emperor.
"This," Mingyu continued, "is how the court survives. This is how Daiyu survives."
Still nothing.
I stepped forward, just once.
The sound of my boots hitting stone was louder than the rustle of ministerial robes.
I didn't speak.
I just stood beside Mingyu.
The statement was made.
From now on, we ruled together.
The Emperor's lips parted, a whisper of breath escaping.
"Let them see," Mingyu murmured beside me, his voice so low only I could hear it. "Let them all see what it means to touch you. What it means to make you bleed."
My fingers tightened around the hilt of my blade.
I didn't reply.
I didn't need to.
Because now, all of Daiyu would answer for what they'd done.
"I am here," I assured him. "And I'm not going anywhere."