Forbidden reason

It was just past the fourth hour before sunrise. Yet the capital of the Tandang Dynasty had already awakened with fervent purpose.

The cobbled road echoed with the wheels of carts and the clatter of hurried footsteps. Merchants flung open their doors and stalls, calling out half-prepared greetings.

Staff rushed with baskets, ribbon, bolts of silk, and fresh fruits balanced over their shoulders.

Tired-eyed citizens pulled themselves into motion, grumbling, but even they could not hide the excitement burning behind their yawns.

Today was no ordinary day. It was the seventh day of the grand Autumn Festivals, and more importantly, the wedding day of General Gao Yuan's eldest son, Tie Gen, to Princess Min Yan, the younger twin sister of the Emperor.

A day meant for joy, for union, and for the celebration of peace.

General Gao, now 45, was the empire's steadfast sword, known not only for triumph in battle but also for keeping the blood of civil unrest from staining the capital.

With his son's marriage sanctioned by the young Emperor himself, today was to mark a powerful alliance, one rooted not in conquest but in loyalty and quiet affection from years past.

The palace, usually a fortress of poise, also buzzed with urgency. Servants had been awake since the second hour, arranging ceremonial garb, steaming rice wine, and preparing for an imperial banquet that would probably last from sunup to moonrise.

The guard stood alert, musicians tuned their zither and drums. Yet none of them noticed the softest shadow, a feminine silhouette that glided across the rooftops like a ribbon of smoke, silent, swift, and untraceable.

By the time the eastern sun crested the horizon, the final touches were falling in place.

Within the Emperor's personal residence, Eunuch Li, a man who had served the throne for more than forty years, moved with the weary dignity. His voice was soft, yet it allowed no disobedience.

"Prepare the bath quietly," he whispered.

"No heavy steps. His majesty must wake gently today."

The servants bowed and obeyed at once. Curtains were drawn open, incense was lit, and warm water was poured into waiting basins.

Eunuch Li approached the imperial bed, lowered his head in respectful greeting, and waited. For acknowledgement and for instructions, but there was only silence.

"Your Majesty?"

He lifted his gaze, only to see that the bed was neatly made. Untouched.

The porcelain pillow lay perfectly arranged, yet the figure meant to rest upon it was nowhere to be seen.

A faint crease formed between his brows.

"Your Majesty?"

He called again, louder this time, yet still no response. With growing worry, he stepped towards the Emperor's study. Lifting the silk canopy, and peered behind the carved partition.

Nothing. The chamber was pristine and undisturbed as well.

Anxiety settled heavily upon Eunuch Li. He returned to the bed chamber, scanning every corner. Behind the screens, bedside curtains, and along the walls. Yet there was still no sign of the Emperor.

"Your Majesty... Where could-"

The words died on his tongue as he thought deeply.

The Emperor was not a man who left his chambers unattended, nor one who moved through the palace without escort.

As someone who had been by the young Emperor's side since childhood, he knew that the man who had been raised with poised, strict conduct and under controlled discipline would never leave without an attendant. It's impossible. Something is wrong.

Eunuch Li exited the chamber at once and ordered all servants to assemble in the courtyard.

Every servant assigned to these quarters had been personally appointed and approved by him.

At the Emperor's own request, only twenty-eight servants were permitted within his residence. Few enough to be watched, trusted, and accounted for.

They stood in two orderly lines before him. Eunuch Li didn't waste time and immediately counted them once, and twice, but all were presents. "Did any of you see his Majesty leave the residence this morning?"

All of them looked at him nervously and answered as one.

"No,"

Chills creep into Eunuch Li's body. He finds it very peculiar; it's almost impossible not to be aware of the Emperor passing or leaving his residence. Every corner within this place is heavily guarded; surely someone could have seen him leave this morning.

Unless someone had taken him, someone who is expert at abducting high-ranking figures, someone meticulous and disciplined in executing such a mission.

But it still seems impossible. The Emperor is guarded and protected by martial arts veterans stationed around his residence. General Gao personally selected them. No one slips past that kind of security.

If anyone were bold enough to abduct the Emperor, it would have to be an insider, someone who already knows every corridor, hidden passage, and blind spot within the palace. Someone such as the guards themselves. Could it be?

His thoughts raced back to the empty bed, the untouched chambers, and the silence where there should have been life. Fear wrapped through him.

He hurried over the residence gates, his composure breaking as his voice rang out across the palace grounds.

"Guards! GUARDS!"

All servants froze in terror. A high-ranking Eunuch calling for guards from within the Emperor's own lair could only mean disaster.

"Something has happened to his Majesty!" Eunuch Li shouted.

"He is not within his residence! Raise the alarm! Seal the gates! Form search parties! Call General Gao inside the palace at once!"

All palace guards quickly sprinted in from every direction. Doors were flung open. Search teams scattered through the corridors and courtyard. Two mounted messengers were dispatched at once, galloping toward General Gao's estate with the unthinkable news. The Emperor has vanished.

Back in the Emperor's chamber, no one noticed the simple gold seal resting on the desk, or the parchment beneath it, inked with the imperial dragon and sealed with wax—a decree left behind without explanation.

Like thunder breaking across heaven, two massive ceremonial drums sounded across the capital.

The heartbeat of the city stopped, and all the joyous air curdled into panic.

Shutters slammed shut. Children were yanked from the streets. Merchants abandoned their stalls mid-sale. Lovers, families, and strangers all rushed indoors. Some whispered prayers. Others stared at the sky in silence.

Everyone knew what it meant. Two drums meant one thing: the capital was in danger.

Moments later, the stone gates of the city were sealed shut with a final, echoing thud. Hundreds of soldiers marched in rhythm, flooding the streets and alleys, sweeping through the city with sharp eyes and drawn weapons.

The Tandang Capital, in an instant, fell into a state of intense lockdown.

At the General's residence, laughter had barely begun before it was silenced. General Gao, who had just finished adjusting his eldest son's wedding robe, stared into the faces of the two messengers who dismounted on their horses, dust in their breath and panic in their words.

There was no hesitation.

"Saddled the horses."

General Gao did not waste a second and mounted on his horse at once, followed by his two sons. One was still dressed as a groom, the other was hurriedly tying his boots.

They rode fast to the palace.

Inside the throne hall, silence loomed. Princess Min Yan sat like a figure carved from stone. Her wedding veil had been discarded, her eyes, swollen from crying, now held only dread.

The Emperor's two royal guards stood behind her, unmoving, expression unreadable.

General Gao entered the first gate with the fury of a storm and ordered his two sons to quickly go over to the Emperor's residence to investigate.

"Do not trust