The charming widow of the Marquis's mansion: The stable boy carries the flag and raises the dra

East of the Imperial City.

An unassuming house is nestled deep in a quiet alley.

With its gray walls and black tiles, it is no different from the surrounding houses.

There is a sealed room underground, with walls made of cast steel and molten lead filling the gaps, making it airtight.

In the center of the secret room stood a huge round table made of rosewood, with several oil lamps lit on it. The flames burned quietly in the windless room, casting flickering light and shadow on the faces of the people sitting around the table.

Marquis Zhao Pojun of Zhennan sat in the main seat, his face ashen.

He changed into a dark robe, and his hair was tied up with a jade hairpin, making him look more gloomy than during the day.

The index finger of his left hand tapped the table lightly, once, then again, producing a dull sound.

Seven or eight people were sitting on either side of him.

They included both civil and military officials, young and old, and without exception, all were prominent nobles in the court.

Marquis Yongning, Zhang Shigui, sat to Zhao Pojun's right. He was in his fifties, with a plump figure and a round face that always wore a smile, making him look like an amiable businessman.

But those eyes were incredibly sharp, darting around and taking in everyone's expressions.

Marquis Dingyuan, Li Chongwen, sat to Zhao Pojun's left. He was in his early forties, with a stern face and a straight back. There was a thick callus on the web of his right hand, a mark left from years of holding a knife.

He was a veteran general with three thousand Dingyuan soldiers under his command, a force of real military power.

The others included the Earl of Anbei and the Marquis of Wu'an, all of whom had some family wealth and were more powerful than ordinary nobles.

The atmosphere in the sealed room was as oppressive as the calm before a storm.

Zhang Shigui picked up his teacup, took a sip, and broke the silence first.

"Lord Zhao, everyone is here. Please speak frankly."

Zhao Pojun's fingers stopped tapping.

He raised his head, his gaze sweeping over everyone present, and slowly began to speak.

"Gentlemen, I have invited you all here today to discuss a matter of life and death."

The people present looked at each other, their expressions varied.

Li Chongwen frowned slightly and said in a deep voice.

"Is Lord Zhao referring to the upcoming competition?"

Zhao Pojun nodded.

"His Majesty's change of rules this time, sending household servants to fight on behalf of each family, is ostensibly to avoid harming harmony, but in reality, it is to undermine our forces."

He paused, his voice turning colder.

"Think about it, everyone. If the servants you've painstakingly trained are granted official positions by His Majesty and suddenly become government officials, who will work for you?"

"The people we've trained over decades have been snatched away by His Majesty without lifting a finger."

"Today they're robbing our own slaves, but what about tomorrow?"

Zhang Shigui put down his teacup and sighed.

"Lord Zhao is right; I have been worried about this matter as well."

"Your Majesty has worked diligently to govern the country over the years, promoting martial arts and encouraging various schools to cultivate talents. But in the end, all the talents cultivated have been taken away by Your Majesty."

"If this continues, we'll have no one left to rely on, and won't we just be at their mercy?"

Marquis Zhou Demao of Wu'an was a rough and burly warrior. He slammed his hand on the table, making the oil lamp flicker.

"If you ask me, His Majesty is clearly trying to strip us of our power!"

"Our ancestors fought alongside the royal family for generations, making countless contributions and shedding countless blood. And now, they're all going to be slaughtered like pigs!"

Li Chongwen glanced at him, his voice not loud, but with a hint of calm.

Brother Zhou, please be careful with your words.

Zhou Demao snorted, angrily picked up his wine glass, drank it all in one gulp, and slammed it down.

"Why be careful what you say? We're all on the same side, what's there to be afraid of!"

"Brother Zhou is right, His Majesty is indeed weakening his power."

"To promote those worthless students from poor families is like discarding a donkey after it has served its purpose!"

"That's right, we've put in so much effort, what's wrong with enjoying ourselves a bit!?"

Zhang Shigui raised his head and stared intently at Zhao Pojun.

"Lord Zhao, we understand what you're saying."

"The key question is, what should we do?"

Zhao Pojun remained silent for a moment.

"Your Majesty is now at the peak of the ninth rank."

This level of strength is enough to suppress everyone present by himself!

There are also mysterious royal retainers and ninth-grade spirit beasts stationed there; there is no chance of winning in a head-on fight against them!

Li Chongwen's expression became more serious.

"If Your Majesty breaks through to the Grandmaster level, we will be even less able to fight back."

He paused, lowering his voice slightly.

"You all probably don't know something."

"What is it?"

"Your Majesty fought on the battlefield in your early years and achieved many great feats, but you also suffered hidden injuries."

Li Chongwen's voice was soft, yet it was like a dull knife, cutting into the hearts of everyone present.

"Over the years, His Majesty's hidden injuries have never fully healed."

"Given his advanced age and declining health, his lifespan... is probably only a few years away."

Everyone present was astonished.

Zhang Shigui nearly dropped the teacup in his hand, and his voice trembled slightly.

Is this really true?

Li Chongwen nodded, his expression unchanged.

"I have a retainer in my household who used to work in the Imperial Medical Academy. He told me this himself."

"Of course, His Majesty has kept this a secret from the public, and no more than ten people know about it."

A faint smile appeared on Zhao Pojun's lips.

"That makes sense."

He raised his head and his gaze swept across the faces of the crowd.

"Because he got anxious."

"He feared that his time was coming to an end and he would not have time to consolidate all his power."

"He feared that after his death, the crown prince would be unable to maintain order, and the throne would fall to the new ruler."

Zhang Shigui swallowed.

"In that case, if Your Majesty breaks through to the Grandmaster level..."

"If one breaks through to the Grandmaster level, one's Qi and blood can be restored, lifespan can be extended, and hidden injuries can be healed."

Li Chongwen took over the conversation, his voice calm to the point of being almost cold.

"By then, he will have no worries."

"We're in for a world of trouble!"

The atmosphere in the sealed room suddenly plummeted to freezing point.

Zhou Demao slammed his hand on the table, making the oil lamp flicker.

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's make our move before he breaks through!"

"Make a move?"

Li Chongwen glanced at him, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"What are you going to do? How can you do it? His Majesty is protected by the Imperial Guards, Grandmasters, and the nation's guardian beast. What makes you think you can take action?"

Zhou Demao was speechless, his face flushed red, and he downed another glass of wine.

Zhao Pojun raised his hand and gestured for everyone to be quiet.

"Brother Li is right. In a head-on confrontation, we are no match for him."

He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly, revealing a dangerous glint.

"But we can create some trouble."

All eyes turned to that direction.

"How do I do it?"

Zhao Pojun picked up his teacup, took a small sip, and a meaningful smile appeared on his lips.

"The Second Prince Murong Ye and the Third Prince Murong Yu, they were originally very ambitious."

The people present were all stunned for a moment, then a look of understanding flashed in their eyes.

"Does Lord Zhao mean... that we should strongly support the two princes in their struggle for the throne?"