Chapter Seven: Unraveling the Enigma on the Chessboard!

It was clear that Li Hongfang had finally realized the gravity of the situation. She became hysterical.

“So you mean to say that once Sun Feng becomes the heir of the Westward Conquest Prince’s Mansion, the ones who will truly be pleased won’t be us!”

Sun Feiyan was utterly confused, her eyes filled with doubt as she looked at her mother.

Li Hongfang clenched her teeth tightly. “I see now, I see now!”

The Westward Conquest Prince’s Mansion, though one of the four great general’s households, was the only one among them ruled by a prince of a different surname.

The Northern Pacification Prince’s Mansion belonged to the emperor’s brother—essentially a border prince—with military power roughly equal to the Westward Conquest Prince’s.

The other two general’s households were either under the emperor’s personal troops or commanded by the current empress dowager’s brother, a man utterly loyal to the emperor and tightly controlled by him.

When all these unstable elements came together, it became evident: the Sun family was already at the pinnacle of power, the only family in the dynasty to have been granted a princely title while still alive.

The prestige of the Westward Conquest Prince’s Mansion had been steadily rising, never declining.

Moreover, within the mansion was Lin Qian—a son skilled both in letters and martial arts, a master strategist undefeated in battle, destined to command the former generals under the Westward Conquest Prince.

Though young, his achievements were formidable, his bearing, wisdom, and courage unparalleled.

Rumors had even begun circulating among the common folk, some nursery rhymes like “On the third day of the third month, the Westward Conquest Prince’s Mansion ascends the Dragon Terrace.”

“If Sun Feng inherits the Westward Conquest Prince’s title, will those generals who once fought under the prince obey him?”

“How can a man with no merit, who has never even set foot on the battlefield, issue orders to those battle-hardened generals?”

“But having such a useless heir isn’t necessarily bad. It means that in the future, with just a fabricated crime or a minor scandal, the entire Westward Conquest Prince’s Mansion—this noble family of a hundred years—could vanish in a storm of ruin, right?”

These words came from Princess Anping, Ye Qingyan.

She had seen through it all long ago.

Yet, as the only daughter of the Northern Pacification Prince and the emperor’s niece, there were things she could not openly say.

But today’s situation had given Ye Qingyan a glimmer of hope.

Compared to Sun Feng—who was steeped in wine, women, and wealth—Lin Qian was the ideal husband she had long dreamed of.

She had fantasized countless times about their life after marriage.

But Sun Feng’s sudden appearance shattered all her dreams.

How could she not resent Sun Feng, who had broken her peaceful life?

Through Ye Qingyan’s words, everyone present heard the truth clearly.

Sun Feng was dumbfounded.

“You—you’re talking nonsense! You’re slandering me!”

Since returning to the Westward Conquest Prince’s Mansion three years ago, Sun Feng’s days had been filled with idle pursuits: caging birds and surrounded by beauties, fulfilling the role of a wealthy playboy.

But when it came to military strategy and battlefield tactics, he was completely ignorant.

Even to this day, he couldn’t tame a single fierce steed from the Western Regions, let alone ride into battle.

Sun Feng was nothing but a spoiled scion.

A playboy who lacked both the courage and ability to shoulder great responsibilities, nor the resolve to make waves.

This was why the emperor, due to the Tianxin Glaze incident, punished Lin Qian and confirmed Sun Feng as the heir of the Westward Conquest Prince’s Mansion.

The plan laid out three years ago only now revealed the emperor’s true intent to the whole mansion.

“No, this can’t be…”

Disbelief flickered in Sun Feng’s eyes.

“Your Majesty, you personally told me that when I ascend to the throne, all the troops of the Westward Conquest Prince’s Mansion and the Huaixi Army would be handed over to me to command, and that I should defend the country and be loyal…”

Yet as Sun Feng remained lost in this sweet dream, a cold voice suddenly cut through the silence.

“Do you really believe that yourself?”

The Huaixi Army numbered a hundred thousand troops, with thirty-two commanders and seventy-four deputy commanders under the marshal’s command.

This nearly hundred-strong general staff, plus auxiliary officers and military supervisors, numbered over three hundred officials.

If a clueless, shallow commander were to lead them, who would obey him?

“I…I…”

Sun Feng was instantly intimidated by Lin Qian’s words.

The entire Westward Conquest Prince’s Mansion fell silent, the atmosphere tense enough to hear a pin drop.

“Clang!”

Suddenly, a sharp knock on the bronze crane ornament came from behind the folding screen.

The clear, lingering sound echoed through the main hall of the mansion, resonating endlessly.

The moment the screen was lifted by a servant, a blue royal robe appeared before everyone.

The robe was made of fine blue brocade, embroidered with coiling dragons, each claw bearing five toes—five five-clawed dragons in total.

This was the proper regalia of a prince; anyone who saw the dragons on this robe would know exactly who sat behind the screen.

There sat a man, half his hair already white, his face weathered and bronzed by wind and sun.

His rough hands absentmindedly caressed a string of prayer beads.

“Prince… you…”

Li Hongfang was stunned.

She never imagined that her husband sat just behind the screen.

Yet no one else in the mansion knew.

Sun Ye, the Westward Conquest Prince, sat there with an imposing aura, his tiger-like eyes filled with anger and unwillingness.

He had served the court loyally for so many years, yet never suspected the emperor’s true intention was to let his mansion decline and ultimately be destroyed by the very heir he had appointed.

“Prince, is this… really true?”

Lin Qian’s eyes, complex with emotion upon seeing Sun Ye, suddenly relaxed.

He was never the true heir; his education and skills came from this “father” who had reclaimed his surname after that incident.

Granted grace but punished as well—now, the word “father” could no longer pass his lips.

“Prince.”

Lin Qian offered a calm greeting.

Sun Ye sighed heavily.

The events of three years ago involved the mansion’s bloodline; though he was shocked beyond words, he had no choice but to act.

Sun Feng was his true blood.

Because of the military disaster years ago and the years spent wandering among common folk, guilt and blood ties had led him to make a misguided decision—one he now deeply regretted.