Chapter 4 - Chapter 4: A Violent Deliverance

The stench of blood and fear hung heavy in the small, reeking chamber. Shen Haoran lay crumpled on the floor, groaning, clutching his head where the stool had struck him. His face was a mask of shock and pain, the smug triumph utterly wiped away. Shen Weisheng stood frozen, his hand still raised in the air, dripping crimson, the severed limb lying unnervingly still at his feet. Xie Wanqing wailed, a shrill, hysterical sound that grated on Zhiyu's ears, as she stared at the horror unfolding before her.Min Yulin, however, remained utterly unperturbed by the chaos he had wrought. He moved with a chilling efficiency, his long, slender sword, glinting wickedly in the dim light, still poised. His eyes, cold and piercing, swept from the bleeding Weisheng to the stunned Haoran. There was no flicker of hesitation, no sign of remorse. His expression was a stark, almost beautiful blankness, betraying no emotion save for an intense, focused intent.Zhiyu, still reeling from the shock of Yulin's sudden, violent entrance, could only watch, transfixed. His mind struggled to process the scene: the dismembered hand, the gaping, ruined doorway, the utter subjugation of his tormentors. This was the Crown Prince of Min? The boy from the painting, meant to be a political ally, a future counterpart? He was a force of nature, brutal and decisive, a whirlwind of calculated destruction.Yulin took a single, deliberate step towards Weisheng. The usurper, still clutching his bleeding wrist, recoiled, terror finally registering in his eyes. "You... you barbarian! You'll pay for this! This is the Shen Imperial Palace!" he stammered, his voice hoarse with pain and fear.Yulin merely raised his sword, its tip pointing unerringly at Weisheng's throat. "The Shen Imperial Palace," he stated, his voice surprisingly soft, yet imbued with an icy authority that sent shivers down Zhiyu's spine, "is now under the protection of the Min Empire. Your reign of terror, Uncle, ends here." The unspoken threat was clear: one more word, and Weisheng would join his severed hand on the floor.Xie Wanqing, seeing the deadly intent in Yulin's eyes, finally found her voice again, though it was now a terrified sob. "No! Please! He's my husband! We meant no harm to the boy!" She scrambled towards Weisheng, trying to shield him, but Yulin simply stepped around her, his focus unbroken.Haoran, whimpering on the floor, tried to crawl away, his earlier arrogance replaced by pathetic fear. He dared not make eye contact with Yulin.Yulin's gaze then flickered back to Zhiyu, still huddled against the wall, his frail body trembling. A subtle shift occurred in Yulin's otherwise emotionless face – a barely perceptible softening around the eyes, a fleeting recognition of the suffering he saw. Without a word, he sheathed his sword with a quiet thud, and knelt before Zhiyu."Are you harmed further?" Yulin's voice was low, almost a murmur, yet it cut through the lingering hysteria in the room.Zhiyu, still struggling to find his voice, could only shake his head, tears stinging his eyes. He was alive. And free.Yulin's arm went around Zhiyu's waist, strong and unwavering, pulling him gently but firmly from the wall. He helped Zhiyu to his feet, supporting his weakened frame. Zhiyu leaned into the unexpected support, the warmth of Yulin's body a stark contrast to the cold dread that had consumed him for days. He was still disoriented, but the simple act of being held, of being protected, was overwhelming."We need to move quickly," Yulin stated, his gaze sweeping over the room one last time, confirming the incapacitated state of Weisheng and Haoran. "My guards are securing the palace, but we must reach the Imperial Grand Hall. Your father's letter."As they moved through the shattered doorway, the sight outside confirmed Yulin's words. Min Imperial guards, their silver and blue armor gleaming, moved with practiced ease through the Shen Palace corridors. The bodies of Weisheng's loyalists lay strewn about, quickly being dragged away. The air, though still thick with the aftermath of violence, was now dominated by the disciplined sounds of a successful takeover.A voice, deeper and more authoritative than Yulin's, but still belonging to a young man, spoke from the corridor. Zhiyu recognized him as one of Yulin's personal guards, a stern-faced Alpha with an aura of unwavering loyalty. "Crown Prince Min, the Emperor's letter was clear. No harm to the Shen Crown Prince. And the treaty explicitly stated..."Yulin cut him off with a curt gesture. "He won't be harmed now." His voice was devoid of explanation, a simple statement of fact. His priority was clear: Zhiyu's immediate safety. He was carrying Zhiyu, not gently, but efficiently, almost as if Zhiyu were a precious, fragile burden.Zhiyu, still dazed, tried to process the fragments of information. "My father's letter?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.Yulin glanced down at him, his expression still unreadable, but a flicker of something, perhaps a grim acknowledgment, passed through his eyes. "Emperor Shen Wenzhao," Yulin began, his voice surprisingly calm despite the surrounding chaos, "sent a final message to Emperor Min Tianyou, just before the coup. He requested the merger of our two kingdoms into one, under the unified rule of the Min Empire. In return... he asked for the life of his son."Zhiyu's breath hitched. His father. Even in his last moments, betrayed and facing death, his father had thought only of his kingdom, of his son. The merging of the two empires – it was an unprecedented act, a historical shift that would redefine Xuanwu. And it was all to save him. A wave of profound grief and gratitude washed over Zhiyu, hot tears mingling with the grime on his face. His father had made the ultimate sacrifice, forging a new destiny for him and his people through a desperate plea to an old friend.As Yulin continued to move through the palace, his pace unwavering, Zhiyu became aware of another presence. Snuggled securely in the crook of Yulin's other arm, wrapped in a blanket, was a tiny, sleeping bundle. A baby. It was so small, so utterly innocent, completely oblivious to the bloody takeover unfolding around it. Yulin, the stone-faced, lethal Crown Prince, carrying an infant? The image was so incongruous, so utterly bewildering, that Zhiyu stared at it, wide-eyed.The baby stirred, a soft, sleepy sigh escaping its lips. Its tiny head turned, its eyes, wide and dark, slowly opening. They fixed on Zhiyu's face, curious and innocent. And then, a small, soft hand reached out, its fingers surprisingly strong for such a minuscule limb. The baby's grasp was firm, clinging instinctively to Zhiyu's blood-stained sleeve, pulling at the fabric.And then, the softest, most unexpected sound. A single word, uttered by a one-and-a-half-year-old, clear and distinct in the eerie silence of the palace: "Mama."Zhiyu froze. The baby. It had called him "Mama." His heart, which had been a cold, desolate stone for days, gave a strange, painful lurch. He looked from the baby to Yulin. Yulin's face, however, remained utterly blank, showing no reaction to the baby's words. It was as if he hadn't heard, or didn't care. Yet, he continued to carry the baby, carefully, protectively.The baby, oblivious to the complexity of the situation, continued to cling to Zhiyu, its small fingers kneading his sleeve, its innocent gaze unwavering. And as Zhiyu felt the warmth of the tiny body against his, the trusting grip of its minuscule hand, a feeling alien to him since his capture began slowly, hesitantly, began to seep into his battered soul.A feeling of safety.It was illogical. He was being carried by a boy who had just cut off a man's hand without a flicker of emotion, whose presence radiated an aura of lethal efficiency. This was not a gentle rescuer, but a silent, terrifying force. Yet, with the small, innocent baby clinging to him, and Yulin's unwavering strength supporting him, Zhiyu felt, for the first time in days, that he was truly safe. Safe with the person who didn't even show a single emotion on his face. It was an overwhelming, complex emotion, mixing terror and relief, bewilderment and a nascent sense of belonging. What would this strange new reality bring?