My Wife Is a Battle Maiden Of The Horde

On the 15th day of the eighth lunar month, before the onset of the winter solstice, the capital city of Cháng, at the heart of the Liang Kingdom, was alive with festive cheer. The Moonlit Harvest Festival had transformed the bustling streets into a dazzling display of red lanterns, strung elegantly in front of every house.

Auspicious talismans adorned doors, firecrackers cracked to ward off evil spirits, and uplifting music spilled from brothels and entertainment establishments. Families of all statuses gathered for feasts, offered prayers to their ancestors, and shared in the joy of the season. Children waited eagerly, their bright eyes shining with anticipation as they awaited the coveted red envelopes from their elders.

The red-light district was especially lively. Brothels flaunted their allure with lavish decorations and enticing scents of incense. Delicate giggles and flirtatious whispers wafted through the air, drawing passersby like moths to a flame. Each establishment exuded its own distinctive fragrance, blending into a medley of sensual aromas.

For the common people, such celebrations were rare opportunities to forget the hardships of life. They poured their hearts into the festivities, embracing the fleeting moments of happiness that came when the kingdom was at peace. As the crisp autumn air heralded the approaching winter, the streets were filled with revelers eager to enjoy the outdoors before the chill set in.

However, one place in the city stood in stark contrast to the festive atmosphere—the Imperial Palace. An air of unease and foreboding hung over it like a dark cloud. As the morning court session approached, the carriages of courtiers rolled solemnly along Qilin Avenue toward the palace gates.

The sight of court officials heading to the morning audience was routine, yet today felt different. An oppressive silence enveloped the avenue, broken only by the rhythmic clatter of carriage wheels. Inside the carriages, the courtiers sat stiffly, their faces betraying a tension that mirrored the stillness outside.

At the palace gates, the guards, usually composed and disciplined, appeared unusually tense. Their eyes darted cautiously toward the approaching carriages, noting the insignias and the hierarchy they represented. Among these carriages, one moved particularly slowly, its curtains fluttering as a young boy peeked out curiously.

"Li'er! Don't cause trouble!" an old man barked, pulling the boy back into the carriage.

The boy, embarrassed, sank back into his seat. But his curiosity was insatiable, and after a brief pause, he turned to his grandfather, seated opposite him.

"Grandfather... something feels off today. What's happening?" he asked hesitantly.

The old man, eyes closed and arms crossed, raised an eyebrow at the question. Slowly, he opened his eyes, revealing a sharp gaze. "Little bastard, keep quiet and don't cause trouble today. I won't be able to protect you if you stir up trouble. Do you understand?"

The eleven-year-old boy, though confused, nodded obediently. A moment later, he asked again, "Grandfather, you still haven't answered my question!"

The old man's brows twitched in irritation. He was already regretting bringing the boy to the palace. "You'll find out soon enough. Don't pester me, and remember—behave yourself in front of the Empress Dowager. If you mess this up..." He trailed off, his icy glare delivering the unspoken warning.

Chen Li, the mischievous third young master of the Chen family, immediately shrank back, a sense of foreboding settling over him. For all his infamous pranks and antics, even he knew when to tread carefully. He nodded earnestly, his earlier boldness replaced by nervous anticipation.

The carriage soon arrived at the palace gates. The insignia of the Chen family was instantly recognized by the guards, who straightened with serious expressions. After a brief inspection of the documents handed over by the coachman, the head guard, Feng Hai, personally stepped forward to receive the passengers.

As the occupants disembarked, Feng Hai greeted them with a deep bow. "Marquis Chen," he said respectfully.

Chen Bai, the Marquis of Ping'an, returned the gesture with a polite nod. His demeanor was calm, but his eyes carried a flicker of concern as he glanced at his grandson.

Feng Hai's gaze shifted to young Chen Li, the boy summoned to the palace by the Empress Dowager herself. Though expressionless, Feng Hai's thoughts churned. He knew more about the palace's inner workings than most and could guess why the boy had been summoned. Deciding it was wise to leave a favorable impression early, he offered a slight bow to the boy as well.

Chen Li, despite his mischievous nature, understood the gravity of the situation. Bowing politely in return, he flashed a well-practiced smile. Feng Hai nodded in satisfaction and gestured for a eunuch to step forward.

"Young Master Chen, please follow me," the eunuch said, his tone flat but respectful.

Chen Li glanced at his grandfather, seeking reassurance. The old Marquis gave a nod, though his eyes carried a silent warning. Taking a deep breath, the boy followed the eunuch into the depths of the imperial palace.

As the young master disappeared into the harem's corridors, the Marquis of Ping'an stood silently, his gaze lingering. A heavy sigh escaped him as he turned to leave for the Imperial Court. But before he could take more than a few steps, a group of elderly courtiers approached him with worried expressions.

Feng Hai, watching from a distance, broke into a cold sweat. These men were powerful figures, bitter rivals in court politics, and some were outright enemies. Seeing them together with such somber faces was enough to unnerve anyone.

"What in the world is going on today?" Feng Hai muttered under his breath. The uneasy atmosphere was palpable, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something monumental was about to unfold.

---

In the grand hall of the Imperial Court, the air was thick with tension. Ministers, scholars, and officials filled the room, their ranks meticulously arranged according to status. At the center, the dragon throne sat empty, awaiting the arrival of the emperor.

Prime Minister Cui Minglong stood solemnly beside the throne, his expression unreadable. To his left were the ministers of the Six Ministries, while the dukes and marquises occupied the right. Behind them, rows of lesser officials, palace scholars, and scribes completed the assembly.

A heavy silence hung over the hall. Unlike usual days when quiet murmurs and discussions filled the room, today there was only the oppressive weight of anticipation.

The silence was broken by the announcement of the emperor's arrival. Heads bowed low as the seven-year-old Emperor Huizong entered, accompanied by the Regent Empress Dowager. The child emperor ascended the throne, his small frame dwarfed by the grandeur of the dragon seat. Behind him, the Empress Dowager took her place, hidden behind a screen of gauzy curtains.

"You may rise," the emperor's young voice commanded. The courtiers rose in unison and took their seats, the proceedings beginning with the usual formalities.

As officials presented reports on minor matters, the emperor listened attentively, though his gaze frequently darted toward the Empress Dowager's veiled figure. When decisions were required, the Empress Dowager's soft voice would drift from behind the curtains, her words carrying the weight of final authority. The emperor would then affix his seal to the prepared edicts, his role reduced to little more than ceremonial approval.

This routine had become the norm. The court knew well that true power lay with the Regent Empress Dowager. Since the sudden death of the previous emperor, she had swiftly consolidated her position, presenting a final decree of the late Emperor naming her youngest Grandson as heir and herself as regent.

This was of course, very suspicious. The late emperor, despite having many concubines, was only able to have three Princes as all his other children were Princesses. In such a case, why would he name the youngest as his heir? Wasn't this a little too convenient?

But in the end, those who were doubtful could only scheme in the shadows and wait for the right opportunity. Of course, the other two princes had already been suppressed and could not even raise their heads without attracting suspicion.

Despite the outward calm, the court was rife with undercurrents of dissatisfaction. Many people harbored doubts about the Empress Dowager's motives and authority, but they did not dare speak up as the oppor was already gone due to the Empress Dawager's decisiveness. The water had been boiling for a long time and no one knew when it could spill over.

As the routine discussions drew to a close, an air of nervous anticipation settled over the court. In their heart, everyone knew that perhaps someone would make their move.

Marquis Chen, seated among the noble ranks, opened his eyes slowly. The real drama was about to begin.