Renaissance of goddess of war✨️

Chapter 8: Shadows of Betrayal

The morning court was as tense as ever, the air thick with unease. The assassination attempt from the previous night lingered like a storm cloud over the gathered officials. Emperor Zhao Mingde sat at the head of the court, his eyes heavy with the weight of the treachery.

“We face a serious threat,” the emperor declared, his voice sharp and unforgiving. “The crown prince’s life was targeted. General Huo, you will take charge of the investigation.”

Huo Wushang, standing tall in his military uniform, nodded. His expression was as stern as ever, rarely showing any emotion. In the court, everyone knew him by his given title, but the emperor’s use of "Zisheng," the name he'd been called since childhood, reminded him of the bond that tied him to the imperial family. “I will not rest until we uncover the truth,” Wushang said firmly. His reputation as a ruthless, effective general preceded him.

Zhao Yang, standing in the front row, his presence intimidating, gave Wushang a brief look of acknowledgment. They didn’t need words. As a duo, they had fought alongside each other countless times. Together, they were unstoppable—a perfect blend of power and strategy. But where Zhao Yang was cold and feared by the court, Wushang was known to be silent and brutal, with a particular disdain for older officials who had never seen the battlefield.

As the court session continued, Emperor Zhao turned his attention to Ancheng. “For your bravery and loyalty, I bestow upon you the command of 1,000 female soldiers,” he announced. Ancheng stood proud but wary, feeling the lingering stares of military leaders like General Xu, who still doubted her.

When the court adjourned, Ancheng caught up with Wushang. “You know, little brother,” she teased, pinching his ear lightly, “you should try smiling sometimes. The court would be a lot less terrified of you.”

Wushang scowled but didn’t pull away. “Why would I care what those old fools think?” His tone was harsh, but there was a softness in his eyes when he looked at her. “They don’t matter. The mission does.”

“You and Yang, always so serious,” Ancheng sighed, shaking her head. “But don’t overdo it, okay? I don’t want to see you pushing yourself too far.”

Wushang gave her a rare smirk. “You worry too much.”

Anning and Zhao Ning were tending to the wounded soldiers from the previous night’s attack. Their easy banter flowed amidst the injured guards, but there was an unspoken tension between them, one that neither could deny.

A soldier, unaware of Anning’s true identity, smiled up at her as she wrapped his wound. “You’re quite the healer. Maybe I should get hurt more often.”

Anning laughed softly, amused by the flirtation. “I’d recommend not testing your luck.”

Zhao Ning, standing nearby, clenched his jaw. “Be careful, Anning. You might give the wrong impression.”

She glanced up at him, teasingly. “What if I did?”

His eyes darkened slightly with jealousy, though he kept his tone light. “I’d have to remind him who he’s dealing with.”

The soldier chuckled, unaware of the growing tension. “I didn’t mean any harm, Your Highness.”

Anning gave Zhao Ning a sideways glance, her amusement growing. “Looks like you’re scaring the poor soldier.”

Zhao Ning’s jealousy was bubbling beneath the surface, but he kept it in check. “He’s lucky that’s all he’s getting.”

The playful tension between them filled the air as the soldiers around them watched the exchange with smirks.

As the sun began to set, Ancheng and Anning made their way to the palace gates. Ancheng, still recovering from the events of the previous night, turned to her sister. “It’s time we head back to the Li Mansion for the night. Father would want us to return.”

Anning nodded in agreement. “We’ve been away too long. The household must be worried.”

Just as they were about to leave, Zhao Yang appeared, his silhouette sharp against the fading light. His eyes met Ancheng’s, and his expression was unreadable, a mix of concern and command.

“You’re not going back tonight,” Zhao Yang said firmly, stepping in front of them. His tone left no room for argument.

Ancheng raised an eyebrow, confused by his sudden appearance. “Why not? The court session is over, and we’re needed at home.”

Zhao Yang’s gaze softened, but his voice remained steady. “You’ve forgotten something, haven’t you?”

Ancheng blinked, trying to recall what he was referring to. Then it hit her—the letter from her father. General Li had written to her, urging her to stay at the palace for her safety, especially after the attack. He had placed his trust in Zhao Yang to protect her.

“You promised your father you’d remain here under my protection,” Zhao Yang reminded her. “Until the investigation is complete, you’re not leaving the palace.”

Ancheng’s initial protest died in her throat. She knew Zhao Yang was right. General Li’s words had been clear, and with the current danger, it was too risky to leave the safety of the palace.

Anning glanced between the two, sensing the tension. “We’ll be fine here for one more night,” she said, trying to ease the situation.

Ancheng sighed, looking at Zhao Yang with a mixture of annoyance and gratitude. “Fine. But you’re keeping me from my duties, you know.”

Zhao Yang gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Your duty is to stay alive. That’s all I care about.”

As the palace quieted and the investigation continued, Wushang and Zhao Yang met privately to discuss the attack. Their dynamic was seamless, both of them relying on each other’s strengths.

“The mercenary we caught might be our key to finding who’s behind this,” Zhao Yang said, his voice low but intense. “We need to make him talk.”

“I’ll handle it,” Wushang replied coldly. His reputation for ruthless efficiency preceded him, and Zhao Yang knew that once Wushang was on the case, nothing would remain hidden for long.

“You’ve got that look in your eye again,” Ancheng interrupted, joining them as they stood in a secluded corner of the palace. “Don’t go overboard, Wushang. We don’t want to scare every official out of their wits.”

Wushang smirked slightly. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Ancheng rolled her eyes and nudged him playfully. “Just don’t push too hard, little brother.”

Zhao Yang watched the exchange with amusement. Despite their banter, he knew that Wushang and Ancheng shared a bond deeper than words could express. It was moments like these that reminded him of how important family was—not just by blood, but by the bonds forged in battle and loyalty.