“Cut!”
Xu Pingqiu's voice rang out, carrying clear satisfaction in his tone.
“Keep that one! Prepare to change camera angles for the close-up!”
With those words, the tense atmosphere on the set instantly relaxed.
The crew began adjusting the lights, the camera operators swapped angles, and the props team stepped forward to check the tea set and table.
Jiang Yue remained seated at the tea table, reaching up to loosen his collar slightly.
In his mind, the familiar system notifications chimed right on cue.
【Director's approval detected. Prestige points +80.】
【Co-star's emotional fluctuation detected. Prestige points +35.】
Jiang Yue glanced at his panel, noting that his prestige points were still rising steadily.
He was in no hurry to open it for a closer look.
By now, he had grown accustomed to this rate of growth.
The popularity of 《Manhunt》 was still building momentum.
Meanwhile, 《The Grand Game》 crew was also continuously providing him with new prestige points.
Jiang Yue pulled his focus back, picked up the warm tea in front of him, and took a light sip.
The tea tasted somewhat bitter, but it was highly refreshing.
Time flew by, and the filming of Jiang Yue's scenes officially entered the very late stages.
Unit A indoor set of 《The Grand Game》.
The prime minister had been brought to justice, and like pulling up a weed by its roots, half the imperial court was completely reshuffled in the aftermath.
The news of the Prime Minister's Residence falling was like a delayed clap of spring thunder, shattering the tranquility of the capital.
Xiao Yi reclaimed his true identity as Lin Zheng, the son of the general, and the Emperor rewarded him handsomely for his achievements.
Lin Zheng's new residence was fitted with an imperially bestowed gold-lettered plaque, and the street outside was constantly bustling with carriages.
Countless congratulatory gifts piled up like mountains, and the Emperor's rewards poured in like an endless stream of free money.
Yet, sitting in his study and looking at the room full of wealth, Lin Zheng only felt a bone-chilling cold in his heart.
The prime minister was gone.
But the newly appointed official was the Minister of Personnel, Wang Jian.
This man was a harsh official from a humble background whom the Emperor had personally promoted. Within half a month of taking office, he had completely overhauled the atmosphere of the court.
However, Lin Zheng had conducted a secret investigation.
Wang Jian's only son had seized three thousand mu of fertile land in the suburbs of the capital and was secretly operating a money house even more ruthless than Shuntian Firm.
Did the Emperor not know about this?
Of course he did.
He simply needed to swap his old dog for a new one that was more obedient and bit harder.
Lin Zheng looked at the imperial decree on his desk, which posthumously honored his father as the Duke of Loyal Bravery, and found it utterly ridiculous.
What was the justice he had sought?
What was the revenge he had taken?
The true player on the dragon throne had remained high above all along, coldly watching his ministers tear each other apart like wild dogs.
And he, Lin Zheng, was nothing more than a rusty cleaver the Emperor used to clean house.
He could even smell the thick stench of blood hidden behind this overwhelming imperial grace.
As long as he, Lin Zheng, drew breath, his identity would remain a thorn in the Emperor's side.
When the birds are gone, the good bow is put away—this rule had remained unchanged since ancient times.
Just then, a servant came to report.
“My Lord, someone from the hostage prince's residence has sent an invitation.”
Half an hour later, at the hostage prince's residence.
When Lin Zheng stepped into the courtyard, he caught the pungent scent of burning wood and leaves.
In the yard, several servants were silently burning old belongings.
The past atmosphere of extravagant indulgence, of wine and song night after night, had vanished without a trace.
The massive estate was now as quiet as a lifeless, empty tomb.
Chu Yan stood in front of the main hall.
He had shed his usual eye-catching, brightly colored brocade robes and changed into a neat black robe. Not a single trace of his past drunken absurdity remained on his face.
“You actually dared to come,” Chu Yan said, casting a glance at Lin Zheng with a half-smile.
“Since Heir Chu invited me, I wouldn't dare refuse.”
Lin Zheng sat opposite him. On the table sat only a pot of cold, coarse tea.
“I am returning to the Southern Realm.”
Chu Yan did not beat around the bush, getting straight to the point.
Lin Zheng's hand holding his tea paused for a moment.
It was unexpected, yet entirely logical.
No one wanted to remain a piece of meat on a chopping block forever.
“Congratulations,” Lin Zheng said, setting down his teacup.
“Likewise,” Chu Yan remarked, studying him with a hint of mockery in his eyes. “After all, you are now the highly praised descendant of the Duke of Loyal Bravery. How does that imperial grace taste?”
Lin Zheng kept his face taut, offering no response.
Seeing the expression on the other man's face, Chu Yan let out a laugh.
“It seems you aren't completely stupid. You know that your current glorious state is actually akin to standing at the gates of hell.”
He stood up and walked to the window, gazing out at the gray imperial city.
“Do you think this game is over just because we brought down a prime minister?”
“The Emperor needs a new balance, and he needs new dogs. And you, Lin Zheng, whose achievements outshine your master, and who serve as living proof of that old case, are the most unstable chess piece under his dragon throne.”
Chu Yan turned around, his gaze as sharp as knives.
“He isn't killing you right now only because the court has just been reshuffled and he can't spare the hands. Once he feeds his new dog, Wang Jian, who do you think will be the first to die?”
Every word pierced straight to the heart.
These very thoughts were the agonizing knots Lin Zheng had been struggling with lately.
“It seems we aren't close enough to speak so candidly,” Lin Zheng retorted stiffly.
“Of course we aren't.”
Chu Yan sat back down, poured himself a cup of cold tea, and downed it in one gulp.
“Since I used you as a blade for free, before I leave, I should at least let you know and point out your current situation.”
He paused, his tone turning playful.
“But you don't need to be too worried. Before I leave, I will make sure to send a 'grand gift' to the old Emperor.”
From the back hall, Chu Yan's trusted old servant quietly stepped out, leaning in to whisper, “Heir Chu, everything has been arranged.”
Chu Yan lowered his eyelids and gave a soft, indifferent response, a chilling flash of murderous intent surfacing in his eyes.
After ten years of keeping his agents hidden, it was finally time to lift the lid.
He said to Lin Zheng, “The gift I leave behind will muddy the waters of the capital even further. For the next few years, the Emperor probably won't have the peace of mind to figure out how to cook you, his hunting dog. Take care of yourself.”
With that, Chu Yan rose swiftly.
“The tea is cold. I won't see you out.”
Lin Zheng stood up, took a deep look at him, and without another word, turned and departed.
Once Lin Zheng's figure had completely vanished beyond the courtyard gate, Chu Yan stood alone in the empty yard, slowly looking around.
This wretched place had confined him for ten long years.
Then, he turned abruptly and strode out the main gate without looking back.
This rotten cage of a capital could no longer trap the tiger of the Southern Realm.
Lin Zheng soon learned that Chu Yan's words were not a lie.
The "grand gift" Chu Yan left behind indeed muddied the waters of the capital even further.
Within just a few short years, the princes in whom the old Emperor had placed high hopes plunged into a chaotic, bloody free-for-all to seize the dragon throne.
The Crown Prince was deposed, the second prince had his legs broken, and the fifth prince directly launched a rebellion, only to slit his own throat on the spot after his defeat.
The old Emperor, who had played the game of political balance all his life, suddenly realized he had played himself into becoming a truly lonely ruler.
The capital descended into a boiling pot of chaos.
Meanwhile, in the Southern Realm, Chu Yan, who had lain low for ten years, completely tore off his submissive disguise.
He inherited the title of Prince of Zhennan, and with a single rallying cry, gathered an army of a hundred thousand in just a few short years.
Now, marching under the banner of "purging the court," his army had arrived at the very gates of the capital.
The old Emperor was truly panicked now.
Those harsh officials and new nobles who usually barked the loudest in court now shrank like turtles.
Left with no other choice, the old Emperor could only summon Lin Zheng privately, attempting to use the so-called loyalty and righteousness of a subject to emotionally blackmail him into going head-to-head with Chu Yan.
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