Remarried to a top-tier playboy, her reborn ex-husband is filled with regret.

Now, eleven years have passed since that legend.

Some of those who believed in "destiny" back then became the backbone of the Wing King Party.

Some were removed one by one by Xiao Fang.

Some disappeared silently during the power transitions.

And that fabricated celestial phenomenon, as time passed, sank into the deepest layer of dust in the Ministry of Rites' records.

Lu Zhao dug it out.

When he slammed the letter onto Xiao Fang's table, his face was full of a smug smile.

"Look at this—written by Cui Shi'an himself to the Imperial Observatory."

It was clearly written above that the celestial phenomena were fake, fabricated by him and Consort Zhao.

He had the observation records of the Imperial Observatory altered and sealed with silver.

There are still a few old fellows alive at the Imperial Observatory; I've already sent someone to "invite" them back.

Xiao Fang finished reading the letter, put it down, and smiled.

That smile was cold, like frost on a blade.

Nobody knows how the news leaked.

Perhaps someone in the Censorate was too talkative, or perhaps the commotion of escorting the old Imperial Observatory official was too great.

In short, even before Xiao Fang formally submitted his memorial, whispers had already begun to circulate in the capital.

"I heard that the Wing King's claim of destiny was a lie?"

"The former director of the Imperial Observatory was invited for tea by the Censorate, and people from the Ministry of Rites also came."

"That's right. He was only seventeen years old back then. How could so many ministers have been so eager to curry favor with him?"

"If it weren't for that fake destiny, who would even give him a second glance?"

"To fabricate the Mandate of Heaven is a crime of deceiving the Emperor... Can His Majesty tolerate this?"

These discussions grew wildly, from teahouses to taverns.

From the residences of court officials to the streets and alleys.

Within two or three days, the whole of Kyoto was spreading the word that the Wing King's "destiny" was bought.

The Wing King naturally heard it too.

He didn't hear it from the court, but from the whispers of the servants in the prince's residence.

That day, as he left his study and passed the corner of the corridor, he heard two sweeping servants talking in hushed tones.

"...It's all over the streets that the prince's divine mandate is a lie..."

"Shh, keep your voice down, do you want to die?"

The Wing King stood behind the corner and did not go out.

His hands slowly gripped the pillar, his knuckles turning white.

Even the servants in his household began to gossip that his destiny was a lie.

The Wing King's face is being torn off piece by piece and thrown onto every inch of Kyoto's streets to be trampled on.

On the day of the morning court session, all eyes in the capital were focused on the Golden Palace.

Those discussions that hadn't yet reached the old emperor's ears, those whispers in the streets and alleys.

At this moment, it was brought to the imperial court and laid bare under the sunlight.

In front of the entire court and the emperor, his name was irrefutably and irrefutably nailed to Prince Yi, line by line, in black and white.

When Xiao Fang stepped forward, the hall was silent, as if everyone was holding their breath.

How many times has this happened?

Every time Xiao Fang looked back at the Wing King, it meant another knife was about to fall.

"Your subject has something to report."

He glanced back at the Wing King.

This time, he didn't laugh.

His expression was calm, almost indifferent, as if he were looking at someone who had already been sentenced to death.

Eleven years ago, Cui Shi'an, the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Rites, conspired with Zheng Mingde, the Director of the Imperial Observatory, to fabricate celestial phenomena and deceive the emperor.

They falsely claimed that the Purple Star was moving and that destiny had fallen to the Wing King.

They used this to mislead the court and the public, and to form cliques for personal gain.

This case involves three major crimes: deceiving the emperor, faking celestial phenomena, and forming a faction.

Both witness testimony and physical evidence are available.

Xiao Fang paused, his gaze remaining fixed on the Wing King's face.

Following his gaze, all the officials in the court saw the first visible crack appear on the gentle and refined face of the Prince of Yi.

The smile was still on his lips, but it had frozen.

Like a mask nailed to the spot, it can no longer be adjusted even slightly with changes in expression.

Beneath the mask, something is struggling frantically, trying to break free.

The old emperor did not get angry, nor did he throw down his folding stick; he simply leaned back on the dragon throne.

He stared at the Wing King for a long time with those cloudy and tired eyes.

That gaze was heavier than all the previous ones combined.

His gaze held disappointment, disgust, and a knowing "I knew it all along" kind of understanding.

The Wing King's back was ice-cold; he had been covered in a cold sweat without realizing it.

"You have disappointed me greatly."

The old emperor finally spoke, his voice not loud, but it sent a shiver down the spine of the Wing King.

These seven words carry more weight than all the previous punishments combined.

The emperor's tone was not angry, nor was it suspicious; rather, it was as if he had finally confirmed something that he had long suspected but had been unwilling to face.

The Wing King's destiny is a lie.

This son was a fake from beginning to end.

His true identity and purpose are self-evident.

"deliver an imperial order."

The old emperor's voice echoed in the hall.

"Cui Shi'an, Vice Minister of the Ministry of Rites, and Zheng Mingde, former Director of the Imperial Observatory, fabricated celestial phenomena and deceived the emperor."

He was immediately dismissed from his post, thrown into a death row cell, and executed in the autumn.

Wing King—

The old emperor paused for a moment, looking at his son kneeling in the hall, his face ashen.

"Deceiving the emperor and forming cliques for personal gain!"

Effective immediately, he is suspended from all public duties, confined to his residence, and forbidden from stepping out without imperial decree.

No one may visit without my decree.

From salary deduction to a one-month stay-at-home order, from salary suspension to a three-month stay-at-home order, and then to suspension from duty with salary revocation and indefinite stay-at-home order.

This road has only one direction; one more step forward and you'll be stripped of your title.

The Wing King knelt on the ground and did not get up for a long time.

He lowered his head, his hair ornament was askew, and stray hairs fell down his forehead, covering most of his face.

No one could see what was churning in his lowered eyes.

It was a kind of insane, teetering, and uncontrollable malice.

His fingers, gripping the jade tablet, tightened inch by inch, the knuckles making a very slight cracking sound, as if his own strength was crushing the bones.

As Xiao Fang walked past him, he didn't stop, and didn't even give him a cold laugh.

She probably felt he wasn't good enough for her.

The Wing King knelt there, listening to Xiao Fang's footsteps grow ever more distant.

The man's back was straight and composed, and he knelt on the cold blue brick floor of the Golden Palace.

He was stared at by the eyes of the entire court and subjected to the whispers and gossip of the entire capital.

The mask he had worn for over twenty years was finally torn to shreds.

He didn't pick it himself; it was torn off piece by piece and thrown onto the Golden Palace for the world to trample on.

After the court session ended, all the civil and military officials filed out.

No one dared to approach the Wing King to speak, and no one dared to look at him more than once.

Those who used to fawn over the Wing King, vying to hand him folded paper money and invite him to banquets.

At this moment, they all lowered their heads and quickly walked around his kneeling figure.

It was as if they were walking around an ominous, unlucky old object.

The Wing King slowly raised his head, looked at the bright sunlight outside the palace, and suddenly smiled.

That smile was completely different from his previous smiles.

His smile used to be gentle and warm, like a spring breeze.

That smile, however, was sinister, carrying a madness that seeped from the very marrow of his bones.

The Wing King stood up, straightened his clothes, and tucked his stray hairs behind his ears.

He put on his usual gentle and refined expression again and walked out of the Golden Palace step by step.

He walked up the white marble steps, through the Meridian Gate, and past the crowds who dared not look at him.

The Wing King's smile remained firmly on his lips, as if nothing had happened in the court just now.

But his fingers, gripping the jade tablet, were still trembling.