(The writing today is still just so-so, the murderous aura is gradually showing...)

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The Southern Qing dynasty was very harmonious during this period. A new little prince was born in the palace, a joyous event. As for how Consort Mei actually died, no one dared to openly discuss it. The midwives who delivered the baby in that palace naturally died along with Consort Mei due to her difficult labor, which was only to be expected.

Currently, the Great Qing Dynasty is using troops in the north, a time of national tension, the day to unify the world and establish a foundation. Who would have the audacity to say those two or three forbidden sentences, fearing not that the inner court eunuchs and ascetic monks in the darkness would report them?

In just a few days, the matter of Consort Mei faded, and Kyoto once again transformed into a bright moon, clear breeze, and deep autumn scene, a picture of serenity.

The northern war continued to drag on. Winter snow was approaching, but Southern Qing's offensive did not weaken. It advanced straight north, nearing the Nanjing defense line that Northern Qi had prepared for twenty years. However, it was a pity that Shang Shanhu, who had remained in Song State's Zhou City, after gaining the full trust of the Northern Qi Emperor, coldly suppressed his troops, firmly wedging himself into the Qing army's path, causing immense concern among the Qing military.

Shi Fei eventually went to the north. Due to the urgency of the war, Kyoto felt a slight solemnity. This former Yan King general, who had single-handedly subdued the Northern Military Camp, was sent north by His Majesty to assist Marshal Wang Zhikun in handling the Northern Expedition. A famous general is like a beautiful woman; presumably, Shi Fei's heart was filled with heroic aspirations when he embarked on his journey.

With Shi Fei's departure, the position of Commander of the Kyoto Garrison became vacant again, attracting the fervent gazes of many young and promising figures in the military. However, His Majesty's subsequent decree immediately extinguished all hopes.

Ye Wan formally disengaged from his staff work in the Privy Council. In addition to his position as Martial Arts Tutor to the Crown Prince, he also took on the position of Commander of the Kyoto Garrison. No one dared to express opposition to this appointment, not even the slightest opinion, because Ye Wan's remarkable achievements in the western part of the empire this year were vividly evident in the eyes of the ministers and people, and no one could suppress his rise.

Decades ago, Ye Wan's father, Ye Zhong, had taken on the position of Commander of the Kyoto Garrison at a very young age. Now, fate had turned, and it had turned to his son, whom he did not favor. However, in the eyes of outsiders, the so-called tiger son of a general, a pillar of the family, was nothing more than that.

In the midday of late autumn, the cold sunlight fell on Ye Wan's plain light armor. The young general frowned slightly, gently nudged his horse's belly, and slowly walked outside the Zhengyang Gate of Kyoto. His eyes were slightly narrowed, constantly sweeping over the people passing by, like a hawk searching for its prey in the vast grassland.

In fact, this was just a subconscious reaction to his true inner emotions. He did not expect to meet that young Lord Fan here, but he was somewhat eager to see that legendary figure. Although His Majesty had strictly ordered that if he saw Fan Xian, he must take three steps back first, how could Ye Wan be willing?

In the clear, expansive autumn sky, the cold sunlight transformed into countless lines of light, either straight or curved. Ye Wan's eyes narrowed even more. On his slightly dark cheeks, wrinkles that did not match his age were squeezed out at the corners of his eyes. He silently thought about the conversation he had had with His Majesty in front of the Taiji Hall that day, and his mood was extremely complex.

Why choose to launch the Northern Expedition in the autumn, when the long winter was about to arrive? This was a question that greatly puzzled the rulers and ministers of Northern Qi, and it was also a concern for the Southern Qing ministers. However, once His Majesty issued a strict decree, the entire world began to dance to his tune, and warhorses galloped onto the road of invading the Northern Dynasty. No one dared to ask more questions. The strangest thing was that even though they knew that the timing of this war was wrong, none of the important Qing military officials in the Privy Council, led by Ye Zhong, chose to advise His Majesty.

"Thousands upon thousands of men are advancing one after another, embarking on a road of no return, just to force him to show himself." Ye Wan, riding on his horse, lowered his head slightly, seemingly to avoid the not-so-fiery sunlight. A slightly bitter smile appeared on the corner of his lips. He did not understand why His Majesty valued Fan Xian so much, nor did he understand whether His Majesty should have made Qing's men pay such a high price to lure and kill Fan Xian.

As General Ye Wan felt a sense of regret, he did not know that the object he desperately wanted to hunt down, the one that Emperor Qing was most worried about on this continent, had already passed through the city gate and returned to Kyoto. It was just that the city gate that the two men used was not Zhengyang Gate.

The midday sunlight was equally clear and diffused at the West City Gate. Among the busy crowd coming and going in Kyoto, there were two figures that were extremely difficult to notice, one wearing ordinary cloth clothes and the other wearing a bamboo hat.

Fan Xian, who had undergone some minor disguises, subconsciously turned his head to look at Wu Zhu beside him the moment he stepped into Kyoto. The wide bamboo hat completely blocked the black cloth on Wu Zhu's face in the shadows. No one should notice anything strange.

Many years ago, Ye Qingmei brought a youthful Wu Zhu, casually like they were traveling, to the capital of Qing. She passed through the Kyoto city gate guarded by Ye Zhong, beat Ye Zhong into a pig's head, and then began to assist a man in starting his magnificent life.

Today, Fan Xian, with an indifferent Wu Zhu, quietly returned to Kyoto, avoiding the Zhengyang Gate personally guarded by Ye Wan, and joined the flow of people like two ghosts, preparing to end that man's magnificent life.

Starting from here, ending from here, it seems to be a perfect cycle.

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When Fan Xian and Wu Zhu returned to Kyoto, the war in the north was still continuing, and many days had passed since Consort Mei's death. Although he was now a traitor to the Qing Dynasty, stripped of all official positions and power, he still possessed his extremely powerful intelligence channels. In an inn in Kyoto, Fan Xian closed his eyes, thinking about the cause of Consort Mei's death, analyzing his chances of success, and his mood gradually became heavy.

In the following days, Fan Xian disguised himself as the most common blue-clothed servant in Kyoto, traveling between various mansions and teahouses in the streets and alleys. He did not go to see anyone he knew, because he did not want to be shouted at and chased down by thousands of people. He was just carefully looking for something.

He was looking for the box, that heavy box. That snowy day, the assassination failed, and he was besieged by the Qing army on the palace square. He heard the sound of the box, and he also knew that His Majesty was almost killed by that heavy sniper rifle.

If he could find the box, perhaps the subsequent events would be much simpler, but who would have the box in their hands? This question should have been asked to Wu Zhu for the simplest and clearest answer. However, Wu Zhu was now just a pale, indifferent piece of paper, remembering nothing and caring about nothing. He was just subconsciously following Fan Xian away from the temple, starting to wander, travel, and experience in this world outside the temple...

In those few days, for the safety of his family, and for the tacit understanding between him and His Majesty, Fan Xian did not return to the Fan residence. He searched for traces near the Star Plucking Tower, racking his brains, wondering who would have Wu Zhu's greatest trust...besides himself. However, his thinking fell into a misunderstanding, and he never thought about that woman. Therefore, this search seemed so wandering, without any direction, and he almost wanted to shout out loud on the streets of Kyoto in the deep autumn.

After all, he was now the common enemy of the entire Southern Qing Dynasty. In Kyoto, which seemed peaceful and without the flavor of war, but was actually beginning to seep out a solemn aura, his primary task was to survive and conceal his traces. He did not even dare to contact his former subordinates in the Supervisory Council, so this search seemed somewhat futile.

The current Kyoto was no longer the same as Kyoto a year ago. The Supervisory Council had become like a stepchild raised by a second wife, swaying in the cold wind and rain. If His Majesty had not completely lost his mind, the ministers would have already suggested that His Majesty directly abolish the Supervisory Council.

Fan Xian had always believed that he possessed three treasures, and that he could go anywhere in the world. Therefore, no matter what kind of dangers he encountered since his rebirth, he had never truly lost confidence. Even when facing Ye Liuyun's sword and the Emperor's fingers, he still felt that he was the most ruthless person in the world.

His three treasures were the poison crossbow, the poison dagger, and Uncle Wu Zhu. However, now that Uncle Wu Zhu had become an idiot, and the box was gone, what could he do?

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Fan Manor, Duke Liu's Manor, Jing Wang Manor, Yan Manor, Prince He's Manor, the Supervisory Council on Tianhe Road, an office next to Dali Temple, a small house in the south of the city, all the places that Fan Xian might come into contact with had the court's eyes and ears. Several times, Fan Xian almost bumped into those ascetic monks wearing bamboo hats, narrowly escaping.

Since he could not figure out where the box was, then he would not think about it. The current Fan Xian was such a ruthless person. Compared to that, determining the Emperor's current true physical condition and mental state was the most important thing.

Although intelligence was gathered into his hands, he did not quite believe it, because that Emperor in the palace was the best at hiding, deceiving, and luring to kill. The Great East Mountain was like this, and so were many other times. Fan Xian did not want to make a mistake, because he knew that the Emperor would never give him any more chances to make mistakes.

It was very strange to say, but the Emperor and Fan Xian could not completely sort out their feelings and emotions for each other. However, once they thought of each other, their moods calmed down, and all that remained was one word: kill!

There was no need to tell anyone, no need to announce it to the sun and moon. Killing each other seemed to have become some kind of spiritual support for them to live in this world. It had to be said that this was indeed a rather sad thing.

To obtain the most accurate information from the palace, Fan Xian thought for a long time in the inn, and then chose the Ye Manor. The Ye family was loyal and virtuous, Ye Zhong was the head of the Privy Council, Ye Wan was the commander of the Kyoto Garrison, and His Majesty trusted them beyond measure. Naturally, he would no longer send spies to monitor them.

In the current world, there were not many places that could stop Fan Xian from sneaking in. So when Ye Ling'er, with a worried look on her face, suddenly saw a blue-clothed servant appear in front of her like a ghost, her expression changed drastically. However, this daughter of a general was not a weak woman after all. She did not call out, but her face darkened, and she directly pulled out her saber from her waist and slashed it down without hesitation!

"It's me," Fan Xian said, a tired smile appearing on the corner of his lips.

"It's you?" Ye Ling'er looked at his unfamiliar face in disbelief, unable to speak for a long time. She had never thought that this young master was still alive, that he could actually return alive from the temple.

After a conversation, Fan Xian lowered his head tiredly. It seemed that His Majesty's body was really not doing well. And from the death of Consort Mei and from the imperial family's arrangements for that little prince, his heart moved slightly, and he grasped His Majesty's intentions and mood with unusual accuracy.

It was a faint sense of aging. It seemed that after suffering heavy blows from his closest sons and ministers, the powerful Emperor was not only physically, but also mentally, in the lowest period of his life.

But why would His Majesty choose to start the Northern Expedition at this time? Was it because he felt that his time was running out, so he had to seize the time?

In order to drag Emperor Qing down from the altar, Fan Xian did not hesitate to use guns, swords, and people's hearts, exhausting the shameless thoughts he had cultivated in two lives, using the world as a threat, and taking the people of the world as his own, he had finally succeeded in creating the current situation. The Emperor was old, had feelings, and was naturally weak. This was the situation he had always been most looking forward to seeing, but why was there no joy in Fan Xian's heart at this time?

Fan Xian was not only unhappy, but also a little lost. He sat in the chair in front of Ye Ling'er, his feet on the chair, his arms around his knees, his face pressed against his legs, silently thinking, giving people a feeling of extreme fatigue.

When Ye Ling'er saw his posture, her eyes lit up slightly before quickly turning into a thick, unconcealable sadness, because she thought of someone. Perhaps it was because she thought of someone, so she did not ask Fan Xian where that other person was now.

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The sun gradually shifted to the west, and a twilight shone in the Ye Manor. Ye Wan entered the back garden with a sullen face. Whether it was because the northern war was tense, or because the entire Kyoto was preparing for the return of that person, the palace did not strictly order him to leave Kyoto and return to the camp. Instead, His Majesty left a message, allowing him to attend to matters with the yamen.

His father, Ye Zhong, should still be in the Privy Council analyzing military reports and formulating strategies, and he would probably have to stay up all night again. Ye Wan did not feel any envy or resentment, because he now knew better than anyone else that although this Northern Expedition had already broken out, it would not end in a short time, because there was still a very important goal that had not been achieved.

It was also because Ye Zhong was not in the mansion that Ye Wan's footsteps seemed lighter. His relationship with his father had always been extremely bad, otherwise he would not have stayed in Nanzhao for so many years, and even the people of Kyoto had almost forgotten his existence.

However, Ye Wan's relationship with Ye Ling'er was very good. Perhaps it was because the two siblings had not seen each other for many years that they seemed particularly close.

Ye Wan was preparing to go to the back garden to see his sister, so he did not bring any subordinates or guards. However, as soon as he entered the back garden, the first thing he saw was not his sister's figure, but a blue-clothed servant.

The blue-clothed servant hunched over and bowed humbly, preparing to leave.

Ye Wan's eyes narrowed, because the moment he entered the garden, he had already noticed that there was a problem with the position of the seemingly ordinary blue-clothed servant's feet.

This was an extremely subtle detail. The blue-clothed servant's feet seemed casual, but Ye Wan knew that as long as this person moved his back foot, his entire body could rise lightly. Of course, this was a skill that only masters at their level could possess.

Was he too vigilant? The cold light in Ye Wan's narrowed eyes gradually solidified. He looked at the back of the blue-clothed servant passing by, and suddenly asked, "Why did you come back?"

The blue-clothed servant's figure paused slightly, slowly stopped, and then turned around with unusual calmness, looking at the young master of the Ye Manor, and asked with great interest, "Ye Wan? You can see through me like this. Although it's because I was careless, you are indeed...not bad."

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While Fan Xian unexpectedly encountered Ye Wan in the Ye Manor, Wu Zhu, who had entered Kyoto with him, was wandering around Kyoto wearing that large bamboo hat. Regarding the current Wu Zhu, Fan Xian had long since not known what words to use to describe his feeling of frustration. This masked, forever fifteen-year-old young peerless powerhouse had not only lost his memory, but had even forgotten many of the knowledge of survival in the world.

Fan Xian had stayed in Kyoto for many days, and Wu Zhu had stayed by the window of the inn for that many days. Although the black cloth covered his eyes, Fan Xian always felt that he could see a trace of eager and curious gaze in his eyes.

Wu Zhu still did not speak, still remained silent, like a walking pale machine, just subconsciously following Fan Xian's footsteps. Fortunately, Fan Xian's greatest expertise in his life was dealing with mentally challenged children. He had coaxed Da Bao very well, and Wu Zhu was no exception. The journey had been without any major problems.

However, that seemingly soulless body always made Fan Xian's heart ache uncontrollably. So later, he no longer prevented Wu Zhu from going out of the inn to wander around. To be honest, he could not prevent it. As long as Wu Zhu remembered the way back to the inn in the end, that was fine. Fan Xian was not worried about Wu Zhu's safety either, because in his opinion, no one in the world could harm him now.

However, Fan Xian seemed to have forgotten that the current Wu Zhu was just like an ignorant and curious child. And even more troublesome was that there was no possibility of harming humans in Wu Zhu's brain at all.

So Wu Zhu, masked, was wandering around Kyoto seemingly freely, but actually dangerously. He did not take action, did not interfere, just looked through the black cloth, looking at this strange but familiar city.

Wu Zhu walked among the pedestrians in the streets and alleys, curiously looking at the candied haws, listening to the people in the teahouses, enthusiastically discussing the war in the north. However, he walked through the long lanes, walked through Tianhe Road, and came to the edge of the Royal Palace Square.

He curiously tilted his head, looking through the black cloth at the main gate of that magnificent palace. For some reason, a hard to restrain feeling of annoyance arose in his cold heart.

*Pa!* A small stone hit him, followed by many stones coming over. The Kyoto urchins did not know that this person wearing a bamboo hat was the most dangerous being in the world, and desperately threw stones at him.

"Throw at the idiot! Throw at the idiot!"

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Wu Zhu remained motionless, letting the children throw stones. He looked at the main gate of the palace, and suddenly said to himself, "This place seems to be called Meridian Gate (Wu Men), it is used to kill people."

This was the second sentence Wu Zhu had said since leaving the temple. There was no audience. He only remembered that this place used to be called Meridian Gate, and that many people had died here. That was a very distant story.