The mute maid immediately turned back, looking at her with an expression of disbelief yet unsure what to do. Jiang Ruan asked softly, "Were you going to fetch a physician?"
The mute maid nodded.
"There's no need for a physician." Jiang Ruan gave a cold laugh. "I don't trust the physicians here. You may leave now, but be more careful with the meals from now on." Naturally, she couldn't allow a physician to come; if they detected her pregnancy, things would spiral out of control. This mute maid didn't seem particularly bold—whether it was an act or not, Jiang Ruan couldn't tell. For now, she had to deceive her.
The mute maid opened her mouth slightly, seemingly bewildered. Jiang Ruan frowned and said, "Why are you still here? Get out!" Only then did the maid hastily retreat. Once she was gone, Jiang Ruan rubbed her temples. This couldn't go on. Yet, she had no way of knowing what was happening outside. During her confinement in this room, though she hadn't been able to leave, she had still managed to glean some clues from standing by the window or taking short walks in the courtyard.
The surroundings were serene and secluded, with few visitors. The meals were always exceedingly bland. If not for Jiang Ruan instructing the mute maid to prepare meaty dishes for the dog daily, there might not have been even a trace of meat in the food. This was no coincidence. At dusk, she could sometimes hear faint bell chimes. She had a rough guess—this place was likely a temple, perhaps nestled in the mountains or some desolate wilderness, with sparse worshippers and few inhabitants. Hiding her here was indeed bold, but on second thought, it was no wonder no one could find her.
Jiang Ruan didn’t know how far this place was from the capital, but escaping now was impossible. Forcing her way past the tight security was a fool’s errand. Moreover, leaving before everything was settled wasn’t an option. Only when Xuan Li took that crucial step could the rest of the plan proceed. Jiang Ruan picked up a small file beside her and made another notch on the bedpost, which was already crisscrossed with marks—each one representing a day she had spent here. Dozens of days had passed. By now, Xuan Li should be ready to make his move.
...
That night, the clear weather of the past few days suddenly turned. By evening, a fierce wind had risen, and dark clouds loomed overhead. In moments, raindrops as large as beans began pelting down. Pedestrians hurried for shelter, as if the spring warmth had abruptly retreated. By nightfall, the wind and rain grew even more bitter, the cold unusually harsh.
The palace halls stood desolate, the burning sandalwood incense slowly releasing tendrils of smoke. The palace maids, accustomed to the oppressive atmosphere, went about their duties in silence. In the Emperor’s bedchamber, the man lay on the grand dragon bed. No matter how richly adorned in brocade and finery, nothing could conceal the pallor of death on his face.A pair of hands timely picked up a handkerchief from the side, carefully wiping away the nonexistent sweat from the Emperor's forehead. Those hands were slender and fair, with bright rouge on the nails, astonishingly youthful and beautiful. At a glance, they evoked the flowers of spring, exuding a delicate tenderness that seemed almost dripping with moisture. In stark contrast was the Emperor's face, already gray and lifeless, as if only skin and flesh clung to his skeletal frame, aged and haggard. Beauty and ugliness, youth and decay formed a striking contrast at this moment, creating an indescribable aesthetic.
The woman's face was like a peach blossom, her little finger raised as she pinched the handkerchief back into her hand, observing the figure on the bed with keen interest. Her expression was serious, as if she were watching something fascinating. After a long while, she tilted her head and let out a soft "pfft" of laughter, leisurely remarking, "Your Majesty, how utterly pitiful you look."
This was none other than Dong Yinger. The palace attendants outside had already retreated to the side, leaving only Xiao Chenzi—no, now he should be addressed as Eunuch Chen. Hearing Dong Yinger's words, Eunuch Chen showed no particular reaction, standing silently in a corner of the room like an invisible presence.
Dong Yinger propped her chin on one hand, studying the Emperor on the dragon bed intently. This man was the master of the realm, second to none, with a single word capable of deciding life and death. It was because of him that she had entered the palace, and she had once witnessed his awe-inspiring, unstoppable majesty. But what of the True Dragon Son of Heaven? Now, he lay on the bed like a dead dog, unable to move, at the mercy of others. Even she could easily kill the master of the realm.
"A day as husband and wife brings a hundred days of kindness. Thinking of it now, I truly can't bear to act," Dong Yinger said with a smile.
"Your Ladyship should hurry," Eunuch Chen said expressionlessly. "This servant still needs to return and report to our master."
Dong Yinger's eyes flashed with a trace of disgust at his words, but she suddenly laughed again. "Eunuch Chen is so impatient. Don't worry, you won't leave empty-handed." As she spoke, she took out a small vial from her sleeve, removed the stopper, and swept it lightly under the Emperor's nose—
The Emperor's body twitched. After a long while, his eyes slowly opened.
"Your Majesty is awake?" Dong Yinger asked softly.
The Emperor stared blankly for a moment before his expression twisted into something fierce. He glared at Dong Yinger and rasped, "You... harmed me?" Though he struggled to convey his fury, his throat seemed clogged, producing only hoarse, garbled sounds. Without careful listening, it was impossible to discern what he was saying.
Dong Yinger smiled, leaning closer to the Emperor as if to listen carefully to his words. "Your Majesty wrongs me," she said. "It wasn't your humble consort who harmed you—it was your beloved son."
She deliberately didn't specify which son, watching as anger flickered across the Emperor's face. But for a man on the brink of death, such fury only made him appear weaker and more powerless. Dong Yinger seemed even more delighted by this sight and added, "Why doesn't Your Majesty guess which son it was?"
The Emperor stared at her with unblinking intensity, his throat emitting ragged, incoherent sounds as he weakly called out, "Guards... Guards!""Who else does Your Majesty wish to summon?" Dong Yinger smiled faintly. "Your Majesty has been bedridden for so long, you probably don't know the current situation. Every day, it has been your humble consort personally attending to you, with no one else allowed to intervene. Despite my devoted care day after day, Your Majesty still wants to call for others. This truly breaks my heart."
"Witch... Witch!" The Emperor could only utter simple words.
"A witch, you say? Very well, but Your Majesty seems to be in a far worse state than this witch." Dong Yinger placed her hands on the Emperor's cheeks. "Your eyes seem to be searching for someone to help you. Who is it? Eunuch Li? Your Majesty likely doesn't know that Eunuch Li, overwhelmed with grief just days after your illness, took his own life. Tsk tsk, he threw himself into a dry well. When they fished him out, he was barely recognizable."
Dong Yinger spoke cheerfully, and the Emperor's eyes widened suddenly as he trembled and stammered, "You... you..."
"I already said it wasn't me," Dong Yinger chided playfully. "How could your humble consort possess such power? The only one in this world capable of such things is Your Majesty's beloved son. Do you know which son I mean?"
The Emperor remained silent, glaring at Dong Yinger with terrifying intensity. Were it not for his weakened state and confinement to the bed, his gaze alone might have seemed enough to devour her alive. Like a dying goldfish, his bulging eyes looked ready to pop from their sockets.
"If Your Majesty doesn't wish to hear, then I won't say more. I am, after all, very considerate." Dong Yinger giggled before turning to Eunuch Chen. "Bring the medicine. This last bowl for His Majesty—I must personally ensure he drinks it."
Hearing this, the Emperor's facial muscles twitched violently before he rasped, "What... are you... doing?"
"Naturally, I'm going to feed Your Majesty his medicine," Dong Yinger feigned surprise. "Out of the little marital affection we share, I've specially allowed Your Majesty a moment of clarity today. Once you drink this, you'll be free. As Master Huijue wisely said, the mortal world is full of suffering, love, and strife. Only by leaving it behind can one attain true enlightenment. I only have Your Majesty's best interests at heart. Perhaps you'd like to reward me with some trinket?"
Her words were playful, as if teasing a lover, yet laced with undisguised malice—regicide. The Emperor struggled desperately to sit up, roaring hoarsely, "How dare you! Guards...!" But his voice was too weak to reach beyond the room, and his body, already immobile, left him utterly helpless. Like meat on a chopping block, he was at their mercy."Your Majesty, please don't shout. Be mindful of your health—this behavior is unbecoming. The Empress Dowager has long retired for the night, and it's already late. Your Majesty's care has always been my responsibility alone. Since our ties are nearly severed today, I shall speak plainly so Your Majesty may have no lingering attachments." She gazed into the Emperor's eyes and enunciated each word clearly: "As for Your Majesty's Imperial Edict, His Highness has already obtained it—and naturally destroyed it. Thus, Your Majesty's intentions cannot be fulfilled. However, His Highness also wishes to reassure Your Majesty that he will ascend the throne properly and govern the Da Jin Dynasty well. Your Majesty may rest at ease."
At the mention of "Imperial Edict," the Emperor's expression shifted abruptly to shock, followed by fury. "That unfilial wretch... that unfilial wretch..."
"Such is the way of the royal family. Your Majesty need not worry further." Dong Yinger seemed to exhale softly in relief. "Then, Your Majesty, there's no need for further words. The night is deep and the dew heavy—it would be best for Your Majesty to retire early." With that, she nodded toward the other side, and Eunuch Chen promptly stepped forward with a medicine bowl.
Dong Yinger took the bowl from Eunuch Chen's hands, carefully scooped a spoonful, blew on it to cool it, and brought it to the Emperor's lips. The Emperor had no intention of drinking it; his eyes, fixed on the bowl, burned with rage and despair. The will to survive is always strong, and with all his remaining strength, the Emperor turned his head away, spilling the medicine onto the pillow. Dong Yinger sighed lightly, as if exasperated. "Your Majesty is acting like a child. Must you fuss even over medicine?" She then smiled at Eunuch Chen. "Perhaps the gonggong should assist."
The Emperor had noticed this unfamiliar chief eunuch earlier. Eunuch Li had served him for years, and there had been affection between master and servant. Now that this stranger had replaced Eunuch Li, he must have played a part in whatever had befallen his old attendant. Every face in the palace, inside and out, had been replaced—none of them his own people! He glared at Dong Yinger. This woman had always played the obedient role. He had been aware of her schemes but never imagined she would dare go so far as regicide. How foolish! Did she truly believe she could escape unscathed after killing him?
Eunuch Chen acknowledged with a deferential "Zhe" and approached the Emperor. His strength was formidable, and the Emperor, already weak and frail, was effortlessly restrained. Unable to move, the Emperor could only watch as Dong Yinger, smiling, fed him the medicine spoon by spoon.
Helpless, completely immobilized, the Emperor experienced this humiliation for the first time. He closed his eyes. He knew his condition better than anyone—even without this bowl of medicine, he wouldn't have lasted much longer. This dose merely hastened the inevitable, an end he could not evade. Still... still, things hadn't reached the worst possible outcome. The path he had laid earlier would finally serve its purpose. Even in death, it would not be in vain.Dong Yinger watched as the Emperor closed his eyes, seemingly unbothered by the trouble, her voice melodious and soothing: "After Your Majesty drinks this medicine, there’s no need to worry about loneliness in the afterlife. This concubine knows Your Majesty cares most for Consort Mu, so naturally, she will soon be sent down to accompany Your Majesty as well."
The Emperor abruptly opened his eyes and looked at Dong Yinger. He said nothing, but his gaze carried the final fury and gloom of a dying man, coiling around Dong Yinger until even she felt a pang of guilt. Yet, bold as she was, she suddenly smiled again: "Consort Mu will be very happy too." With these words, she fed the medicine to the Emperor even faster, so much so that the liquid began to spill from the corners of his mouth. Her movements grew increasingly ruthless, tinged with a hint of vengeance.
Spoonful by spoonful, the lethal concoction was poured into the Emperor’s mouth, his life slipping away strand by strand. By the end, the Emperor had already ceased breathing at some point, yet Dong Yinger meticulously fed him the last spoonful. Then, she took out a handkerchief, carefully wiped the corners of his mouth, and gently laid him back in his original position, tucking him in with the blanket. It was as though she were the most dutiful wife tending to her husband.
After completing all this, Dong Yinger finally said to Eunuch Chen, "Go back and report to your master."
Eunuch Chen nodded and turned to leave the bedchamber. Dong Yinger sat alone by the bedside, where the figure on the bed was now a corpse, devoid of the vitality it once held. The sovereign who once commanded the winds and rains, standing above all but one, was now nothing more than a withered body, stripped of all authority. Yet, Dong Yinger’s expression was no longer as composed as before—her hands trembled slightly.
But in just moments, the panic in her eyes vanished, replaced by a profound ruthlessness. She gazed at the figure on the bed and whispered, "What does it matter to be the ruler of the world? It’s just another pitiful title. Since that’s the case, let’s descend to hell together." She sat by the bed like a statue for a long time, until the oil lamp nearly burned out and the voices of young eunuchs could be heard outside. Only then did Dong Yinger slowly raise her eyes, looking at the Western-made hourglass placed high on a shelf, a strange smile flickering across her face.
The next moment, her expression shifted, and a panicked voice escaped her lips: "Something terrible has happened! His Majesty—!"
The Emperor’s condition had suddenly worsened. The imperial physicians of the Tai Hospital rushed in full force but could not reverse the situation. By the time they arrived, the figure on the bed had already lost all signs of life.
This was an outcome every physician had anticipated. Even Xia Qing, the Golden Mausoleum Master Hand, had declared after his examination that no medicine could cure the Emperor. Since it was beyond remedy, they had merely been prolonging his life, waiting for the inevitable day when the oil would run dry and the lamp would extinguish. Yet, no one had expected that day to come so soon. All the physicians gathered together, sensing the looming storm.
That night, the Emperor’s bedchamber was brightly lit. At the break of dawn in the east, the first rays of sunlight pierced through the layers of palace walls, illuminating the somber, pitch-black halls. A eunuch in patterned robes dragged out his voice in a shrill cry: "His Majesty—has passed—!"
The sound of mourning shook the heavens, and the entire court wept in grief.The Eighth Prince, who had rushed over upon hearing the news, stood by the Emperor's bedside with a sorrowful expression, unable to hold back his tears. His demeanor appeared genuinely grief-stricken, yet he restrained himself from losing composure, presenting the image of a filial son in the eyes of others. Eunuch Chen stood behind him, head bowed, his face also etched with sorrow.
Xuan Li gazed at the Emperor's face, his mind recalling the words Eunuch Chen had spoken to him. The Emperor's reaction to Dong Yinger's probing words before his death had indeed aligned with their expectations. It seemed the Emperor had indeed drafted another Imperial Edict, which was now safely in Xuan Li's hands, eliminating any future concerns. Once this storm passed, all he needed was to find Qi Man and destroy the edict completely. Then, he would be the sole legitimate heir to the throne.
As Xuan Li pondered this, he suddenly felt a pair of eyes fixed upon him. Following the gaze, he saw Xuan Pei staring coldly at him. Xuan Pei's face showed no trace of grief; instead, it was eerily calm. His eyes held a knowing look, as if he had already unraveled the truth behind everything.
Xuan Li couldn't fathom how a mere teenager like Xuan Pei could possess such a terrifying gaze—one that seemed to pierce through a person's soul, laying bare every thought. He froze momentarily before averting his eyes, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. No matter how formidable Xuan Pei seemed, he had already lost the upper hand in this game. And as for his life, it would soon come to an end. With the Emperor now deceased, it was only a matter of time before his turn arrived.
Amid the sea of mourners, aside from Xuan Pei, there was another whose expression remained indifferent—Mu Xirou. Her beautiful face was as cold as ice, showing no particular emotion. However, given Mu Xirou's naturally aloof demeanor, no one found it unusual. In contrast, Dong Yinger, standing beside her, appeared utterly pitiful.
Dong Yinger's eyes were red from crying, her hair disheveled, and her face haggard, as if she no longer cared about her appearance. Everyone in the palace knew Dong Yinger was a woman of deep sentiment. After the Emperor fell ill, she had been his primary caretaker, never showing a hint of weariness and performing her duties better than anyone else. Now, with the Emperor's passing, her grief seemed profound, standing in stark contrast to Mu Xirou's impassive expression, evoking sighs of sympathy from onlookers.
Empress Dowager Yide sat rigidly in place, her expression unyielding despite the flurry of activity around her. She understood better than anyone how things had come to this. Yet, a flicker of sorrow occasionally crossed her eyes.
At that moment, Xia Qing, who had been examining the Emperor's body one last time, stepped forward with his medicine chest. His expression was grave. Though many high-ranking officials were present, Xia Qing was known for his blunt honesty and didn't bother with formalities. He spoke directly, "Reporting to Your Majesty, the Emperor did not pass from natural exhaustion. There is something suspicious about his death."
Empress Dowager Yide's focus sharpened instantly, and she barked, "Xia Qing, do you realize the gravity of what you're saying in front of this Dowager?""I dare not deceive Your Highness, the Empress Dowager. While examining His Majesty's condition, I discovered he had been poisoned. The poison itself is not uncommon, but it was masked by His Majesty's preexisting illness, making it difficult to detect. Had the imperial physicians conducted a thorough examination, they would have surely noticed the signs."
The imperial physicians exchanged uneasy glances. None of them had actually examined the Emperor's body—after all, who would dare lay hands on the sacred remains of the departed Son of Heaven? Moreover, given Xia Qing's earlier remarks, everyone had assumed the Emperor's decline was due to his failing health. The physicians had always prioritized caution and self-preservation; how could they have suspected such a thing? Empress Dowager Yide's expression shifted slightly as she absently touched the ruby guard on her finger, then commanded sharply, "Investigate!"
The physicians immediately obeyed. Shortly after, the remaining physicians emerged from the bedchamber, their faces ashen and brows damp with sweat. Trembling, they reported to the Empress Dowager, "Your Highness, the miracle healer Xia Qing speaks the truth. His Majesty was indeed poisoned. Moreover, the toxin is fresh—it must have been ingested recently. But its potency was so extreme that..."
As soon as these words were spoken, everyone was shocked! Their gazes involuntarily fell upon Dong Yinger. Since she was responsible for the Emperor's daily care, any mishap would naturally draw attention to her first. Dong Yinger was also startled and said, "No... it wasn't me. The medicine I fed His Majesty was prepared by the Medicinal Cuisine Kitchen." Her flustered demeanor made it seem unlikely, but in the palace, there were always those skilled in deception. Who could say for sure?
"Imperial Grandmother, what do you think...?" Xuan Li stepped forward, his expression a mix of grief and just the right amount of anger. "Father has suffered such a treacherous act. The perpetrator is utterly wicked and must be found—no mercy should be shown!"
Empress Dowager Yide remained silent, her gaze lingering briefly on Xuan Pei, whose expression was remarkably calm. Slowly withdrawing her hand from the protective armor she had been stroking, she said indifferently, "Investigate. Search the entire palace thoroughly!"
...
At the break of dawn, Xiao Shao stood with his hands behind his back, gazing out the window, lost in thought. Butler Lin silently draped an outer robe over his shoulders and whispered, "Master, it's time for you to enter the palace."
The news of the Emperor's death had reached Brocade Hero King Manor almost immediately, yet Xiao Shao had not rushed to the palace. Across the capital, countless officials were in their own residences, worrying about the unforeseen circumstances this sudden news might bring. No carriages lingered outside Brocade Hero King Manor, nor were there any guests inside. The manor was eerily quiet, and their master had spent the entire night in his study.
Even after all these years of serving Xiao Shao, there were moments when Butler Lin couldn't fathom his thoughts. Like now—was there even a trace of sorrow in Xiao Shao's heart? He couldn't tell. Perhaps there was some, given the blood ties. That man had spent years trying to make amends to Xiao Shao, turning a blind eye to even his most outrageous actions.
Unaware of Butler Lin's musings, Xiao Shao felt no great turmoil upon hearing of the Emperor's death. This outcome had long been anticipated. To him, the Emperor was merely a stranger. He had never met the late Hongxi Crown Prince or Xiang Xiaoyuan, but he had been raised by the old Jinying Wang and his wife, fostering deep familial bonds. All of that had been destroyed by the Emperor—by all accounts, he should have hated him.
Yet Xiao Shao didn't even harbor the emotion of "hate." As for the Southern Borderlands, he sought their utter annihilation because that was within his power. His life seemed devoid of purpose, and he didn't know the meaning behind his solitary journey. Perhaps taking command of the Brocade-clad Guards and avenging Hongxi Crown Prince and Xiang Xiaoyuan was the reason he lived. And so he did just that—heedless of his own life, indifferent to his existence, walking alone until he met Jiang Ruan.Perhaps that was another reason for his existence—that woman, so vivid and unlike anyone else, had unknowingly captured his attention. In the end, it was proven that they had met in their past lives, their fate ordained by heaven all along. Maybe it was regret over their missed connection in that lifetime that granted Jiang Ruan a chance to start anew. He refused to let her repeat the same mistakes and vowed to protect her for the rest of his life.
Now, everything Jiang Ruan had done was merely preparation for what was unfolding today. Xiao Shao’s heart was utterly calm, his gaze unwavering, his expression devoid of warmth.
"Xuan Li is about to make his move," Xiao Shao suddenly said. The abrupt remark startled Butler Lin, who looked at his master in confusion. Though Xiao Shao was naturally reserved, what did this have to do with the Emperor’s death?
"Soon," Xiao Shao murmured. Soon, he would be able to fetch Jiang Ruan. Without another word, he draped the outer robe Butler Lin handed him and strode out, leaving the old man standing alone.
Though the morning lacked sunlight, it still illuminated Butler Lin’s face clearly. Upon closer inspection, the deep wrinkles that once marked his weathered face had noticeably faded. A person’s appearance could change, but when white hair turned black again and wrinkles gradually smoothed away, youth transformed his entire visage into that of another man.
Staring at his unfamiliar reflection, Butler Lin chuckled and shook his head before sighing. "The old general takes the field again," he muttered. "It’s finally my turn—this dashing old general."
...
News of the Emperor’s death spread like wildfire through the capital, plunging the people into unease. In this early spring season, the True Dragon Son of Heaven of the Da Jin Dynasty had departed, leaving behind an undecided heir. The court officials each had their own schemes, staking their entire fortunes on an uncertain future.
Zhao Jin watched his second brother with concern. "Second Brother, with His Majesty gone, what is the situation in the court now?" The question of the future Crown Prince remained unresolved. The Emperor’s death had come suddenly, and what was even more surprising was that, before his passing, he had never hinted at whom he intended to name as successor. The previous Crown Prince had already been deposed before the Emperor fell ill, so a new heir should have been appointed long ago. Yet the Emperor had delayed, as if waiting for something.
This hesitation was understandable—the Eighth Prince, Xuan Li, was undeniably outstanding, but his mother, Noble Consort Chen, was a liability. Meanwhile, the Thirteenth Prince, a rising star, had already demonstrated his intelligence and wit, yet lacked the backing of a powerful maternal family. Both were equally capable of ruling, but choosing between them was no easy task.
However, the Emperor’s cautious observation had not accounted for how swiftly he would fall ill—nor that, once bedridden, he would never regain consciousness long enough to name a successor. The struggle for the throne had always been an inevitability everyone silently acknowledged, but without an Imperial Edict, the chaos would only intensify, the conflict growing fiercer."The Emperor's thoughts are not something we can casually speculate about," Second Brother Zhao interrupted his younger sister. "Don't say such things outside, lest you invite trouble. The capital has been quite chaotic lately."
"Indeed," Big Brother Zhao chimed in, walking over and tapping Zhao Jin on the head. "You're too straightforward to understand the intricacies here. It's best for all of us to stay quietly at home these days to avoid any incidents."
Zhao Jin brushed his hand away. "I'm just worried about Father. He's been looking very anxious these past few days, and I don't know what I can do to help. The Emperor's passing was so sudden—who can predict what the capital will be like in the days to come?" Even the usually optimistic Zhao Jin felt a twinge of concern. Without a leader, how could the court function properly without the Emperor at its helm? Empress Dowager Yide was, after all, getting on in years. Even if she stepped forward to take charge now, it was doubtful she could maintain control. The situation was undeniably worrisome.
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