BDSMST -Chapter 195 The Second Prince’s Final Path

The news that the Crown Princess was pregnant spread like wildfire, reaching every corner of the capital overnight.

In the court, the officials who had previously been restless and secretly inclined toward Prince Zhao, the Second Prince, suddenly became the most loyal supporters of the Eastern Palace. Memorials of congratulations piled up on the Crown Prince’s desk, written with such sincerity that it seemed these officials had never harbored any other intentions.

In stark contrast, Prince Zhao’s residence was deserted.

Where there had once been bustling carriages and busy staff, now there was a silence so profound that one could hear the rustling of falling leaves. Prince Zhao locked himself in his study for three full days without leaving. The precious porcelain in his study was smashed to pieces, and his priceless calligraphy and paintings were torn into fragments.

“Jiang Suisui! Gu Yan!” His bloodshot eyes were streaked with veins, and he roared their names like a trapped beast. “You dare refuse my goodwill and oppose me! Fine, very well! You think this means you’ve won? As long as I stand, none of you shall find peace!”

Cornered and desperate, Prince Zhao made his most mad, reckless decision.

He summoned all his loyal assassins, including the Southern Gate Commander he had secretly placed within the Forbidden Army, and began planning a high-stakes palace coup.

His plan was to seize the palace during the Winter Solstice Heaven Worship Ceremony, exploiting the temporary shift change of the Forbidden Army, and force the emperor to issue a decree of abdication.

The plan was wild and crude, a gambler’s desperate last bet.

What he did not know was that every one of his moves had already been caught in an invisible net.

Part of that net came from Gu Yan’s military informants stationed in the capital. The other part came from an unexpected source—the reckless young men of the Duke’s household, led by Zhou Jue.

Ever since their last “hide-and-seek” game with Gu Xuan, these bored aristocratic youths seemed to have discovered a new amusement in life. They turned gathering misfortunes from Prince Zhao’s residence into a competition.

Which steward had been beaten, which newly taken concubine ran off with an actor, even what Prince Zhao shouted in his study today—they would know almost immediately. Though these pieces of information seemed trivial individually, together they painted the true picture of Prince Zhao’s state of mind.

When they discovered that Prince Zhao had been frantically liquidating his assets, converting silver into weapons and rations, and frequently meeting secretly with men from the Forbidden Army, even the slow-witted Li Wenbo sensed that something unusual was afoot.

“He… he’s really going to make a move?” Li Wenbo muttered in disbelief.

The carefree expression disappeared from Zhou Jue’s face. He consolidated all the intelligence, marked it using the special symbols Gu Xuan had taught him, and handed it to Chen Qian.

“Your father and Old Marquis Gu are bonded by life-and-death trust. This information must be delivered to General Gu through the most reliable channel, or we risk alerting the snake,” Zhou Jue said in a low voice.

This intelligence, a product of the combined wit of the capital’s top aristocratic youths, was delivered at lightning speed to Gu Yan in Jinling.

Studying the intelligence alongside information from his own channels, Gu Yan had a perfectly clear picture of the Second Prince’s entire plan.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he compiled all the evidence into a dossier, and together with a foreign correspondence from overseas allied nations and the imperial petitions regarding the auspicious new crops, he sent everything through the Gu family’s most secret channels, racing overnight to the imperial palace.

On the Winter Solstice, large snowflakes began drifting across the capital.

The Heaven Worship Ceremony proceeded as scheduled. The emperor, dressed in the twelve-symbol dragon robe, ascended the altar surrounded by civil and military officials.

Prince Zhao stood at the front row of officials, wearing his princely attire. His hand never left the hilt of his sword, and his eyes occasionally met the gaze of several Forbidden Army generals among the crowd.

Everything was proceeding according to his plan. Prince Zhao’s men had already taken control of several key gates of the palace. Once the Heaven Worship Ceremony ended, with a single command, he could have turned the palace into a cage.

However, at the most critical moment of the ceremony, a sharp, synchronized clatter of armor echoed beneath the Temple of Heaven.

Thousands of elite soldiers from the Capital Garrison surged in from all directions, surrounding the entire altar with no gaps. Leading them was the commander of the emperor’s most trusted garrison troops.

Prince Zhao’s face instantly went pale.

Before he could even react, the few Forbidden Army officers who had been secretly signaling him were captured on the spot by the rushing soldiers.

The emperor slowly descended from the altar. He did not look at Prince Zhao, but walked straight to the Crown Prince, carefully adjusting the collar of his robe, dampened by the falling snow.

“My Crown Prince, you have endured much,” the emperor said softly, his voice filled with both a father’s warmth and the authority of a sovereign.

Then he turned, casting a cold, disappointed gaze at his second son.

“Prince Zhao, do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Prince Zhao’s legs gave way, and he collapsed onto the snowy ground, realizing that all was lost.

The emperor did not look at him again. He simply gestured to the commander of the garrison.

“Seize him. Confine the Prince’s Residence permanently. As for his followers, hand them over to the Three Judicial Offices for trial and ensure they are severely punished.”

A palace coup capable of overturning the court had been silently extinguished. The officials hadn’t even fully understood what had happened before the outcome was already decided.

That evening, the emperor summoned the Crown Prince alone. The fire burned brightly in the imperial study.

The emperor handed the Crown Prince the thick secret memorial submitted by Gu Yan.

“See for yourself,” he said.

The Crown Prince flipped through the pages, growing more alarmed with each one. He saw ironclad evidence of Prince Zhao’s treason, the pivotal role Gu Yan had played, and the intelligence provided by Zhou Jue and others—seemingly absurd, yet infallibly precise.

“Father,” the Crown Prince said, closing the memorial, his expression complex.
“Gu Yan and his wife have done the nation a tremendous service.”

“Not just tremendous,” the emperor sighed, walking to the window and gazing at the snowfall blanketing the capital. “One works within to calm the people, the other works outside to secure the state. They wield the divine tools that sustain the people, and have the ability to stabilize the nation. Yet even with such great merit, they show no arrogance and have always remained dutiful and modest.”

He turned back to his son, his gaze more solemn than ever.

“Remember this: such ministers are the foundation of Great Xia. In the future, you must treat them well. No—not just well—you must respect and honor them. As long as the Gu family stands, half of Great Xia’s realm will remain secure.”

The Crown Prince bowed deeply.

“Your son will obey your teachings, Father.”