Dusk was falling.
The palace gates stood especially tall in the fading light. The vermilion walls had darkened into a deep, heavy red. Inside the gate archway, it was pitch black—no one could see how far the darkness went.
The guards at the gate had already changed shifts.
Niu Jinda was not on duty today. The officer stationed there was a squad leader the boy didn’t recognize. He stood straight as a spear, one hand resting on his sword hilt, eyes fixed forward.
Footsteps came from the far end of the street.
The squad leader’s gaze shifted slightly toward the sound.
A person was walking toward the gate.
Slow steps, but steady—each one firmly placed.
A boy of fifteen or sixteen. He wore a plain dark robe. His left arm was no longer suspended; it hung naturally at his side, swaying slightly as he walked.
He stopped seven or eight steps away from the guards.
Then he raised his hand and straightened his clothes.
Straightened his posture.
The squad leader frowned slightly as he looked at him.
The boy looked familiar, but he couldn’t place him.
The boy spoke.
Not loud, but every word was clear.
“Imperial Son-in-law Commandant Zhou Yi requests an audience with His Majesty.”
The squad leader froze.
Imperial Son-in-law Commandant?
Then he remembered.
The son of Zhou Xiong.
His expression changed slightly.
“Please wait. I will report it at once.”
Zhou Yi said nothing.
He just stood there, maintaining his posture without moving.
The squad leader turned and ran inside.
Footsteps faded into the distance.
The twilight deepened.
Lanterns were lit at the gate, their dim yellow light stretching across the ground and pulling Zhou Yi’s shadow long behind him.
He remained standing.
Completely still.
A cold early-winter wind drifted through the alley.
He did not move.
Time passed.
He did not know how long.
Maybe a quarter of an hour. Maybe half an hour.
Eventually, footsteps came from within the gate arch.
An eunuch walked out.
He stopped in front of Zhou Yi.
“Imperial Son-in-law Commandant.”
Zhou Yi looked at him.
The eunuch said, “A verbal decree from His Majesty.”
Zhou Yi knelt.
The eunuch cleared his throat.
“Return home. Take care of your father.”
Only these few words.
When he finished, the eunuch nodded slightly and turned to leave.
Footsteps faded again.
The gate returned to darkness.
Zhou Yi knelt there, motionless.
He looked at the cold stone bricks lit by lantern light, and at the ground beneath his knees.
“Return home. Take care of your father.”
Just those words.
He knelt for a while.
Then he stood up.
He brushed the dust off his knees.
Turned around.
And walked back.
Still slow. Still steady.
The night wind blew his robe slightly as he left.
He did not look back.
Two Halls.
Candlelight blazed.
Emperor Li Shimin stood by the window, staring into the night outside.
The yellow glow from the paper window screens cast his shadow onto the wall, stretched long and thin.
He paced back and forth.
Two steps. Stop. Look outside.
Two more steps. Stop again.
A soft knock came at the door.
“Your Majesty.”
It was the eunuch who had delivered the message.
Li Shimin did not turn.
“Speak.”
The eunuch’s voice came from outside.
“The Imperial Son-in-law Commandant has already left.”
Li Shimin was silent for a moment.
“Did he say anything?”
The eunuch replied, “No. He did not speak. He knelt for a while, then stood up and left.”
Li Shimin asked no more.
He stood by the window, completely still.
He already knew about the incident with Cheng Yaojin.
When asked, Cheng Yaojin refused to explain—just waved his hand and returned to his residence.
At that moment, Li Shimin understood.
Zhou Xiong had done it.
He had even struck Cheng Yaojin.
He had lost it.
Truly lost it.
Li Shimin suddenly turned and walked back to the desk, sitting down.
He stared at the memorials on the table.
Not turning a single page.
Only one thought kept circling in his mind—
It was him who drove him to this.
He was the one who granted the title.
He ordered the sealing of the iron workshop.
He said those words himself.
He sent the men.
He gave the orders.
All of it was his decision.
He thought he was helping.
He thought giving him a noble title and letting him forge iron elsewhere would be enough.
He thought…
He thought nothing of it!
Bang!
Li Shimin slammed his fist on the desk.
The memorials jumped from the impact.
A panicked voice came from outside.
“Your Majesty?!”
He ignored it.
He stood up and walked to the window again.
Staring into the pitch-black night.
After a long silence, he turned around.
“Summon someone.”
An attendant entered.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Li Shimin said, “Issue an order.”
The attendant waited.
After a pause, Li Shimin said:
“Tomorrow, lift the seal on the Zhou family iron workshop.”
The attendant froze.
He looked up, thinking he had misheard.
Li Shimin did not look at him.
“Go.”
The attendant hurriedly retreated.
The hall fell silent again.
Li Shimin stood there, staring at the closed door for a long time.
Then he returned to the desk and sat down.
Picked up a memorial.
Glanced at it.
Put it down.
He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
The man in his mind would not leave.
The man hammering iron in the workshop.
The man who had kicked him.
The man who had thrown empty wine jars at Cheng Yaojin.
He suddenly opened his eyes.
Looked up at the beams above.
And said very softly—
“What exactly am I supposed to do with you…”
The hall remained utterly silent.
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