Chapter 18 — TVF Chapter 18

Love-Brained Empress (18) After three straight days of forced marching, Marquis Antai—his mind weighed down by worries—finally fell ill.

Qin Jingzhou honestly felt that being able to hold out this long under fear and guilt already counted as impressive. He summoned Lord Wu, the ever-obedient and utterly trouble-free Grand Sacrificial Libation of the army, into the main tent.

“Go talk some sense into him,” Qin Jingzhou said. “For the sake of all the years he served me conscientiously as my deputy, I hope he can tell right from wrong and turn back before it’s too late.”

He had no intention of sparing Marquis Antai in the long run, but among the fifty thousand troops there was still a small portion loyal to Marquis Antai, the former deputy of the original Duke Cheng’en.

This was not the moment for internal strife. For now, he could only choose to placate Marquis Antai.

Lord Wu promptly acknowledged the order. Leaving the command tent, he went straight to Marquis Antai’s quarters.

The moment he entered, he could tell that Antai’s illness of the heart far outweighed his illness of the body. Lord Wu spoke up at once, “Duke Cheng’en sent me to see you.”

Marquis Antai had collapsed precisely because he had realized that, whether he was convinced or not, the overall situation was already lost—and his heart had gone cold with it.

At the same time, he understood all too clearly: Duke Cheng’en probably did not intend to let him off. It was only because of the bigger picture… And thinking back to how ambitious and confident he had been back in the capital, it all felt like a bad joke.

After turning it over in his mind again and again, Marquis Antai let out a bitter laugh. How many soldiers were truly loyal to him—two thousand? Three thousand? The Emperor had already abandoned the capital and fled. Even if he was not deposed, if he ever returned, he would have no real authority left.

Why ruin the futures of these young men just to satisfy the last shred of resentment in his own heart?

Seeing Marquis Antai silent but smiling bitterly, Lord Wu urged him again. “Even if not for yourself, think of your wife and children, and of the men who follow you. Duke Cheng’en not only flattened that stronghold, he also wiped out the former prince’s private guards and seized countless supplies. He killed who needed killing, imprisoned who needed imprisoning, and forced the rest—after giving them enough rations—to go repair the dikes. He’s clearly overstepped his authority, yet who dares say a word? Several princes are so frightened they’ve gone into defensive lockdown. As for His Majesty… a handful of schemers gathered a band of rebels, and he immediately abandoned his concubines, sons, and daughters and ran at the first hint of trouble. If he hadn’t run, do you really think that secret edict you carried would have worked? Brother, don’t be stubborn anymore!”

Marquis Antai grew even more dispirited.

So it was already common knowledge that he carried a secret edict to deal with Duke Cheng’en?

Lord Wu could tell exactly what he was thinking. “Do you think the Qi family has any integrity worth mentioning? Maybe Duke Cheng’en didn’t know before, but Qi Er has been locked up. And as far as I know, Noble Consort Qi is currently staying in Prince Jing’s residence.”

Marquis Antai shot upright and burst into furious curses. He had to see Duke Cheng’en at once and sever all ties with the Qi family!

And so Qin Jingzhou sat in the main seat, looking at Marquis Antai who entered and immediately knelt to beg for forgiveness. He sighed.

“You’re a veteran general who served Emperor Taizong. What exactly did you see in this Emperor? That he’s easy to manipulate? Even if you managed to manipulate him successfully, do you really think he’d give you full rations and pay?”

Marquis Antai fell silent. After a long moment, he finally said, “I was the one who got manipulated by our ‘good’ Emperor.”

Qin Jingzhou waved his hand. “I’ll allow you to redeem yourself through merit. Go.”

Which meant: die in battle or be gravely wounded, and Duke Cheng’en would not pursue the matter further.

Marquis Antai’s heart tightened. Looking at Duke Cheng’en’s half-smile, he remembered his own role in plotting the assassination attempt.

Fine. Fine. At least this… left him a shred of dignity. Otherwise, based on Qi Er’s testimony alone, Duke Cheng’en could have made an example of him—who would have been able to say a thing?

He accepted it helplessly.

When Marquis Antai walked out of the tent, he looked as if he had aged ten years, his steps unsteady.

After that, Lord Wu entered again to report. He said earnestly, “I have ordered my unfilial daughter to enter religious life. Once the overall situation is settled, I too will resign and return home.”

Qin Jingzhou nodded and watched Lord Wu leave with light steps. “A smart man.”

The system chimed in, “He’s afraid you’ll get carried away and make yourself emperor. If he didn’t submit and accept punishment now, his head would probably be rolling later.” Five days later, when the army reached a point thirty li from the capital and faced Prince Jing’s ‘rebels’ from afar, Qin Jingzhou had still been in constant contact with his children, Prince Lu, and his old comrades. He had even received letters from the border generals guarding the northeastern and northwestern passes—the two greatest external threats to Great Jin.

The letters were full of hardship and ended with cautious probing about what he intended to do.

No wonder that when the Emperor fled to the suburban military camp, neither of the two border armies nor the princes outside the capital rushed to his aid.

Back then, for the Emperor to persuade Duke Cheng’en to lead troops south, he had grudgingly squeezed out a large sum from his private treasury and the Ministry of Revenue. Qin Jingzhou had also shaken Prince Jing down for another huge amount. That money paid six months’ wages for fifty thousand soldiers, replenished weapons, armor, winter coats, daily uniforms, and stocked enough grain.

Only with all that did the portion of troops drawn from the suburban camp have decent morale and fighting strength—enough to smash one of the four southern princes’ private armies at first contact.

If even the suburban camp had been in such straits, one could imagine how miserable the northeastern and northwestern border troops had been over the years. Just being owed two years of pay already had strong late-Ming vibes.

Under those circumstances, demanding that they fully equip themselves and rush in to rescue the Emperor was like refusing to pay wages while forcing employees into 996 overtime. Even capitalists wouldn’t dare dream like that.

Qin Jingzhou ordered camp to be set up and sent scouts to gather intelligence.

Just as he was about to summon the generals for a briefing, Prince Lu’s household guards arrived escorting his children and one thousand Xiao clansmen safely to the camp.

Second Miss Xiao’s eyes were red. “Father! You must… you must seek justice for us!”

Qin Jingzhou quickly waved her over to sit beside him. Seeing his son and clansmen all seething with anger, he immediately guessed the Emperor had once again shattered the bottom line.

It turned out that the Emperor had fled with twenty thousand Imperial Guards to the suburban camp—but that same camp, also owed pay, had no surplus grain.

No grain, no money. Having fled the capital in disgrace, the Emperor finally realized in despair: without food or silver, he could command no one. Well—not quite no one. He still had the Empress Xiao, hopelessly devoted, who had come to find him on her own.

In a moment of desperation, the Emperor took Empress Xiao and the Imperial Guards to loot grain—from the nearby Xiao family ancestral lands and several neighboring princely estates.

Then five thousand utterly demoralized Imperial Guards were beaten black and blue by two thousand village militias and estate guards.

The Emperor likely knew he had no face left to see his ministers. He rolled up a stunned Empress Xiao and, with the last three thousand guards still willing to follow him, fled toward the northwestern frontier.

Oh—and before looting grain and before his final desperate escape to the northwest, the Emperor had met with Qi Langhuan both times.

Qin Jingzhou pinched the bridge of his nose and asked his son and Second Miss Xiao, “Are the people placed around your elder sister still with her?”

Both nodded.

He nodded in return. “Good.”

His son added, “As long as they don’t leave Great Jin, the information shouldn’t be cut off.”

Qin Jingzhou wasn’t worried about the Empress’s safety at all. He sneered. “Don’t let the Emperor escape and cede territory to borrow foreign troops.”

Everyone—including the generals present—shuddered.

Damn it. That useless, muddle-headed ruler really would do something like that.

Qin Jingzhou, however, saw it clearly. Qi Langhuan, to secure her seat on Prince Jing’s speeding chariot, had used her most desperate trump card to continuously lower the Emperor’s intelligence—using it as a ticket or pledge of loyalty.

In the original storyline, at this point everyone in the Duke Cheng’en household except the Empress was already dead. The family’s power had been carved up, and the Qi family had gained considerable benefits.

Qi Langhuan and the Qi clan had played major roles in helping Prince Jing’s forces seize the palace, control ministers and clan members, and even murder Prince Lu—the most reliable and formidable royal.

And don’t forget: back then Prince Jing had the full support of his wife, Lady Mi.

But in this reality, Qin Jingzhou had warned Prince Lu and his old comrades before leaving the capital. When Prince Jing gathered a hundred thousand “rebels” outside the city, people were startled—but quickly took action. Losses were limited.

The key was that Prince Jing had absolutely intended to seize the Emperor first and kill him cleanly. He never imagined the Emperor would bolt immediately. When the Emperor fled to the suburban camp, before Prince Jing could organize a surprise attack, the Emperor ran again.

Qin Jingzhou could only conclude that once stripped of their halos, the novel’s supporting-cast Emperor and main-character Prince Jing were… surprisingly evenly matched.

Now he hesitated over whether to split his forces: keep the suburban-camp troops with him to deal with Prince Jing’s rebels, while sending the battle-hardened portion of the Imperial Guards to capture the Emperor.

That night, Qin Jingzhou held another meeting with the generals. He ordered Marquis Antai to personally lead a surprise attack with elite troops, to test the quality of the private army Prince Jing had been nurturing for years.

The results proved that Prince Jing’s ambitions weren’t baseless.

Out of the hundred thousand “rebels,” sixty to seventy thousand were truly battle-worthy. With Marquis Antai, an experienced veteran, leading the charge, they cut down over a hundred men at first—but the enemy reacted quickly. If Qin Jingzhou hadn’t sensed danger and sent reinforcements in time, Marquis Antai and his three thousand vanguard might have been swallowed whole.

The next day, Prince Lu and other imperial clansmen arrived with their household guards to “assist.”

Though these tens of thousands of guards were loyal to their own masters and couldn’t be commanded by Qin Jingzhou, the sheer show of force finally made Prince Jing lose patience.

He stopped pretending.

Prince Jing ordered the western gate commander—whom he had bribed long ago—to open the gates. He discarded the cannon-fodder peasants in his “rebel” army and led nearly seventy thousand elite troops into the city himself, taking over the palace.

The problem was that he hadn’t bribed all four gate commanders. Qin Jingzhou knew he couldn’t allow Prince Jing to fully control the capital—otherwise it would turn into a siege. And he had no confidence in that outcome at all. One glance at history was enough to know how brutal siege warfare was, especially against massive, fortified capitals that could hold out for years.

So after consulting with Prince Lu and the others, Qin Jingzhou led forces through the southern gate and fought Prince Jing in street battles.

Prince Jing no longer intended to proceed slowly with the plan of “installing the swaddled Sixth Prince as emperor, Qi Langhuan as Empress Dowager, and himself as regent.” He was aiming straight for the throne.

As long as he eliminated Duke Cheng’en and Prince Lu, then captured the foolish Emperor, he was convinced he could take the entire north of Great Jin in one sweep.

Prince Jing’s plan was obvious. Qin Jingzhou had no desire to waste time or energy. He would simply seize the ringleader.

Prince Jing had only just entered the palace and dreamed of total control—pure fantasy. Tens of thousands of eunuchs and palace maids, abandoned by the Emperor, were filled with resentment, but that didn’t mean they would calmly accept Prince Jing, an opportunistic traitor seizing the fruits of chaos.

So when Prince Jing ordered the palace gates sealed, eunuchs joined with guards emerging from secret tunnels, hacked down his men, and let Qin Jingzhou’s personally led vanguard storm in.

Inside the palace, the two armies faced off. Prince Jing personally took the field. Unlike the Emperor, he wasn’t a coward—he wouldn’t run.

This was winner takes all. He was gambling with his life.

Qin Jingzhou sat astride his horse, calmly meeting Prince Jing’s gaze.

At that instant, he felt an indescribable prickling sensation over his body. From the corner of his eye, he saw Prince Lu gripping his riding crop tightly, radiating a strange unease.

Qin Jingzhou understood at once.

No wonder Prince Jing wasn’t affected by Qi Langhuan’s intelligence-lowering ability. He really did have something special.

Too bad he was born at the wrong time. If he and Qi Langhuan hadn’t abused the Empress so badly in the original storyline, he never would have run into Qin Jingzhou.

Qin Jingzhou steadied his breath, signaled with his eyes, and spurred his horse forward, gripping his specially made long blade with both hands, aiming straight for Prince Jing.

With him leading the charge, Prince Lu and the others followed in tight formation.

Prince Jing’s guards saw his intent and tried to converge to shield their lord—but then they witnessed a scene they would never forget.

Duke Cheng’en leapt from his horse beneath the moonlight, like a divine warrior descending. His blade flashed again and again; cold light swept past. Prince Jing and several guards beside him had their throats cut in succession, blood spraying as they fell backward…

The battlefield fell deathly silent.

But with Prince Jing dead, his most loyal soldiers went berserk, charging Qin Jingzhou without regard for their lives.

At that moment, Prince Lu and the others arrived to support him.

After paying a price—many new wounds, though none crippling—Qin Jingzhou and Prince Lu drove off the now leaderless guards of Prince Jing. On the spot, they captured thirty thousand men.

After all, those willing to die for Prince Jing were few. Most people still wanted to live.

Yet there was little reason to celebrate retaking the palace, because… the scouts brought back news:

The Emperor… had returned—leading about five thousand Northern Di cavalry skilled in mounted archery.

Qin Jingzhou: “……”

He couldn’t help but wonder, “Is the Emperor really incapable of escaping the pull of the plot?” The system sounded just as pained. “Because you personally broke the previous setup, after Prince Jing’s death the narrative momentum… you can roughly think of it as the ‘protagonist halo’ transferring to the Emperor.” Qin Jingzhou took a deep breath. “Then I’ll just cut him down again.” The system added, “There’s actually good news. According to this world’s mechanics, if you kill the Emperor too, the protagonist halo should fall onto Prince Lu.” Qin Jingzhou looked at his second daughter, who was lowering her head to mix medicinal salve, and at Prince Lu, who couldn’t stop watching her. “…Fine,” he said.