Inside a side hall of the imperial palace.
"Zheng Longtu, you were the one who poisoned and plotted against Us? Everything your Zheng family has today is thanks to Us! If I die, what good does that do you?"
With his back pressed against the latticed doors, Zhang Yuanqing did not dare move a muscle. Yuanshi Tianzun had walked through life and death; even at the brink of doom, he felt no fear. But right now, he was a foolish tyrant.
To tell the truth, the plot's developments had once again exceeded his expectations. Logically speaking, the Zheng family were imperial in-laws, and maternal clans relied on the emperor for their authority. Zhao Shun had no heirs. If he passed away, once a new monarch ascended the throne, the Zheng family's power would inevitably be curtailed. The Zhengs had no reason to murder the emperor.
"What good?" Zheng Longtu sneered. "The good of claiming the Southern Dynasty's vast realm, of course! Don't be afraid—I won't just run you through with a sword. There are only the two of us in this hall. If you die by the blade, even leaping into the Yellow River wouldn't wash me clean."
With that, he sheathed his longsword, grabbed Zhang Yuanqing by the throat, and dragged him over to the table.
Next, Zheng Longtu drew a wooden box from his robes and clicked it open. Inside lay a purple pill the size of a longan.
"Your Majesty, you are the ruler of a nation. Dying by the blade lacks dignity. I will leave your corpse intact. Once you take this pill, you will have died at the hands of assassins, with nothing to do with me." Zheng Longtu pried the emperor's mouth open and shoved the pill in.
Zhang Yuanqing clenched his throat, refusing to swallow it no matter what.
Zheng Longtu snatched up a water pitcher from the table, pinched his nose, and roughly poured water down the foolish monarch's gullet.
"Cough, cough..." Zhang Yuanqing choked on several gulps of water, then abruptly stopped resisting. His throat bobbed, and he swallowed the poisonous pill.
Zheng Longtu set the pitcher down, satisfied.
Holding onto the edge of the table, Zhang Yuanqing coughed violently for a moment before gasping for breath:
"Has your Zheng family lost its mind? The Northern Dynasty's army is practically at the capital's gates! If We die, the court will be thrown into chaos, and the frontline army will be recalled to the capital. For the Zheng family to dream of usurping the throne is utter lunacy!"
Zheng Longtu glanced toward the doorway outside. Seeing that the fighting was still underway, he said:
"The army at the front won't be coming back. The Northern Dynasty will pin Yang Ce down for us."
"The Zheng family is colluding with the Northern Dynasty too? Plotting with a tiger for its hide—aren't you afraid they'll eat you alive, down to the bone?" Zhang Yuanqing sat by the table clutching his throat, his face pale.
"You have only yourself to blame, Your Majesty," Zheng Longtu said in a deep voice. "After the Empress Dowager passed away, you doted on the Empress and placed your faith in the Yang clan, appointing Yang Ce as Grand Marshal over the Zheng family's objections. If he holds Linxia City and repels the Northern Dynasty's forces, the balance of power between the Zheng and Yang families at court will be completely overturned. The Zheng family had no choice but to plan for the future.
"Only if you die at the hands of assassins can the Zheng family take control of the court in the aftermath. With the Imperial Guard of the Imperial City Bureau in our grip, not a single purple-robed dignitary in the entire court will dare oppose us."
Zhang Yuanqing scoffed. "Ludicrous. The Imperial Guard of the Imperial City Bureau is the elite of Our royal house, not the Zheng family's private army! They obey you only because you are the commander of the Imperial Guard. The moment you rebel, they will see you as an enemy."
Zheng Longtu chuckled. "Your Majesty needn't worry about that. The Imperial Preceptor naturally has our back. Besides, with the ridiculous things you have done over the years, public outrage has long been boiling over, and the officials resent you deeply. Everyone can't wait for you to die an early death. My father ascending the throne and declaring himself emperor is merely following the general trend and the will of the people."
*The Imperial Preceptor? Who is the Imperial Preceptor?* There was no relevant information in Zhang Yuanqing's inherited memories, but seeing Zheng Longtu's supremely confident expression, this Imperial Preceptor seemed to be an important figure.
"Even if the Imperial Preceptor backs the Zheng family, what about the Northern Dynasty's army? On what basis does your family think it can defend the capital?" Zhang Yuanqing asked.
A smile curled on Zheng Longtu's lips.
"Father made a secret pact with Tuoba Guanghe long ago. Once he ascends the throne, he will represent the Southern Dynasty as its sovereign to sue for peace with the north, ceding territory, paying tribute, and submitting to them in perpetuity.
"Tuoba Guanghe rose to power too quickly and has countless political enemies at his court. He needs military merit, yet he also fears being eliminated once his usefulness ends—the hounds boiled when the hares are dead. Leaving a severely crippled Southern Dynasty alive offers him nothing but benefits."
*Keeping the enemy alive to secure his own importance, huh?* Zhang Yuanqing muttered inwardly.
"Huh?" Zheng Longtu scrutinized the foolish ruler in astonishment, frowning. "Why hasn't the poison taken effect yet?"
No sooner had the words left his mouth than he suddenly began coughing violently—a hacking, chest-tearing cough. His forehead burned scorching hot, and every breath he drew was filled with searing heat.
*N-no, this is bad... It's the plague...* He staggered to his feet and drew the sword at his waist, his eyes swimming with confusion.
*Patter!*
A drop of water fell from above, landing on the back of his hand.
Zheng Longtu looked up. Between the crisscrossing ceiling beams, he saw trickles of water seeping through the roof tiles like rainwater leaking in.
The trickles fell to the floor and swiftly coalesced into a broad-shouldered, thick-waisted woman. Her face was as round as a platter, her eyes like bronze bells, her eyebrows thick, and her lips heavy. Her physique was decidedly masculine—a truly formidable warrior of a woman.
It was Beauty Wan.
Beauty Wan reached out a palm, pressed it against Zhang Yuanqing's chest and abdomen, and swiped upward.
With a retch, Zhang Yuanqing vomited up the poisonous pill, which was encased in a sphere of tea.
The pill had remained wrapped in tea all along, which was why Zhang Yuanqing hadn't died from the toxin. Naturally, he didn't possess water-controlling abilities; Beauty Wan had acted in secret, using her water-manipulating skill to envelop the pill.
When Zhang Yuanqing had swallowed, he had felt the anomaly in the tea, which was why he had boldly gone ahead and swallowed the pill.
Beauty Wan was the one he had dispatched a eunuch to summon. The three beauties' assassination attempt had indeed come as a surprise—partly because he had entered the dungeon so recently and gathered very little intelligence,
and partly because who could have imagined that his teammates' mission would be to assassinate him?
This had gone beyond the scope of mere intellect. Unless one possessed clairvoyance, no one could have foreseen it.
Yet as Yuanshi Tianzun, a high-tier player who had conquered S-rank dungeons back-to-back, the very moment he fled the bedchamber, he was already asking himself: *Who is the spy mentioned in the mission?*
It obviously couldn't be the three beauties. They were his teammates, and this was a cooperative multiplayer dungeon, not a competitive one. Teammates couldn't possibly be mortal enemies; that violated the Spirit Realm's mechanics.
The spy had to be someone else.
In other words, the survival crisis of the first twenty-four hours was not truly over.
And so Zhang Yuanqing thought of Beauty Wan. In Beauty Wan's character background, this woman—broad enough for a man to stand on her fist and a horse to gallop along her arm—had fished Zhao Shun out of the water after he fell in, beating the Imperial Guard to the rescue.
Even with extraordinary innate talent, an ordinary person couldn't surpass military experts. Therefore, Beauty Wan was definitely no ordinary mortal.
Furthermore, Beauty Wan, having saved him once before, was a bodyguard the foolish monarch could rely on and trust.
This was the hint the dungeon had given him.
Just as he had predicted, Beauty Wan was the foolish monarch's bodyguard—a protector granted by the dungeon.
Only by grasping this hint could one safely weather the crisis without harm.
Looking at Zheng Longtu, who was coughing uncontrollably with trembling, weakened limbs, Zhang Yuanqing chuckled:
"We already knew there was something off about you. It was only because Our Beauty Wan had not yet arrived that We humored you all this time without calling you out. My thanks to Commander Zheng for sharing so much information."
The dungeon's main storyline had suddenly become crystal clear.
During the day, Zhang Yuanqing had indulged his curiosity and skimmed through the memorials. They had all been impeachments directed against the Yang clan and Yang Ce. The sentiments in those memorials made it apparent that the Zheng family was in an immense hurry—anxious to suppress the Yangs and Yang Ce.
Just now, Zheng Longtu had dragged him into this side hall without stationing any imperial guards outside. That fact alone was completely inconsistent with the attitude of someone trying to protect him.
Thus, he had sensed that the Zheng family was up to no good, though he hadn't yet suspected they were the spies. When Zheng Longtu leveled a sword at his chest, Zhang Yuanqing had indeed broken out in a cold sweat.
Gritting his teeth, Zheng Longtu snarled, "Tyrant, I will kill you—"
He snatched up his iron sword and lunged.
Beauty Wan stepped in, interposing herself before Zhang Yuanqing. She let the sword plunge into her heart, spraying only faint ripples of water.
"Your Majesty, get back!" Turning around, she shoved him. The frail, helpless emperor was sent sprawling flat on his face.
Beauty Wan clamped onto Zheng Longtu's wrist. In an instant, a thin white mist condensed in the surrounding air, streaming into her mouth and nose wisps at a time.
Moisture Deprivation!
Zheng Longtu's skin rapidly shriveled and withered. He struggled frantically, an expression of sheer despair overtaking his face. An instant later, that desperate look froze in place.
He had become a completely desiccated corpse.
Chapter 846