Like a nightmare made real, the emaciated mad king locked eyes with the assassin he deeply loved.
Just as in their first encounter, he furrowed his brows, silent and bewildered.
After a long pause, he opened his mouth, his voice hoarse as if torn apart: "...Wan Yin?"
Yu Wanyin tilted the porcelain bottle in her hand, and the medicinal powder spilled out, gently covering his wound.
Crimson blood began to seep, staining the quilt with large patches of what looked like joy.
Xiahou Dan's muscles tensed, but his expression remained unchanged. Compared to the torment in his mind, this pain was so faint it might as well not exist.
He asked again, as if searching for someone: "Wan Yin?"
Yu Wanyin smiled: "How are you?"
"......"
Xiahou Dan slowly mirrored her smile: "I'm fine, and you?"
All the palace attendants bowed their heads, not daring to show any hint of suspicion.
Yu Wanyin poured out half the bottle before her strength failed her, and she collapsed onto the bed beside Xiahou Dan. Xiao Tiancai reacted swiftly, catching the porcelain bottle from her hand.
Yu Wanyin wanted to signal him to observe the effects before adjusting the dosage, but when she opened her mouth, only a breathy sound came out.
Xiao Tiancai said tearfully, "Your Majesty, rest assured."
Yu Wanyin nodded weakly and struggled to grasp Xiahou Dan's hand.
In the distance, a Shadow Guard rushed over in panic: "Your Majesty! The deaf-mute girl bit into the wax pill hidden in her mouth and took her own life..."
Yu Wanyin remained calm. During her earlier conversation with the girl, she had guessed the outcome would likely be one life for another. But once the arrow was loosed, there was no turning back—saving even one was worth it.
She ignored the Shadow Guard and turned her full attention to the man beside her, trying to etch his features into her memory.
Xiahou Dan's vision and thoughts were blurred. He couldn't comprehend what she had done, assuming instead that this was his final moment of clarity, and he hurried to tell her: "Be well."
Yu Wanyin smiled faintly: "Mm."
"One last kiss?"
"Okay..."
Darkness enveloped them.
The unceasing wind carried the first breath of early spring.
One year later.
Heavenly Prison.
The cell remained cramped and damp, with only a sliver of faint light slipping through the iron bars, illuminating the twisted shadow in the corner.
Xiahou Bo leaned against the wall, eyes closed in rest—though sitting was all he could do—his cracked, bleeding lips moving slightly as he muttered under his breath. Anyone who listened closely would realize he was merely counting.
There were no days or nights, no sounds, only the occasional silent guard delivering slop-like food. Xiahou Bo could only estimate time by counting, ensuring he didn't lose himself in the void and his last shreds of sanity.
But today was destined to be different.
Footsteps approached the iron bars, and someone set down food but didn't leave immediately.
A few seconds later, the year-long silence was abruptly broken: "Your Highness."
Xiahou Bo paused for several seconds before slowly turning his head.
The visitor choked back a sob and called again. This time, Xiahou Bo recognized the voice—it was a former subordinate.
Xiahou Bo: "...How did you get in here?"
"This lowly one is incompetent, this lowly one deserves death!" The old subordinate kowtowed without hesitation. "The guards here are incorruptible. I waited an entire year, and only when chaos erupted outside and morale wavered did I manage to bribe my way in to see you. But they only allowed me two sentences before they'll come to drag me away..."
Xiahou Bo seized on the key point: "Chaos outside?"The old subordinate replied, "Yes. Before the chaos in the capital last year, Your Highness left instructions, which I kept firmly in mind. After much effort, I managed to win over the Crown Prince and devised a plan to lure Empress Yu into assassinating the emperor."
"Did it succeed?"
"There were some complications. Although Xiahou Dan died, that damned Empress Yu managed to survive by sheer luck and even seized power, emulating Empress Lü! But heaven has eyes—how could a mere woman govern a nation? The drought last year plunged the entire country into chaos."
"Drought?" Xiahou Bo's eyelids twitched as he vaguely recalled a dream from the past.
The old subordinate continued, "The fields yielded no harvest, and countless people starved to death. Everyone says it's because the enchantress empress abused her power, provoking heaven's wrath. Now, uprisings and rebellions are breaking out everywhere. Empress Yu's days of comfort are numbered."
Tears streamed down his aged face as he added, "I’ve been contacting Your Highness's former allies to stir the pot further. Once Empress Yu is overthrown, we’ll take advantage of the chaos to rescue you."
Footsteps approached. The guards came to shoo him away.
The old subordinate lowered his voice and hastily whispered, "Please endure a little longer, Your Highness. At most, another year or so, and the day of your resurgence will come..."
He left.
The dark cell returned to silence, not even the faint counting sounds resuming.
After an unknown length of time, a muffled laugh escaped.
No one came to scold the prisoner, so he laughed freely, his mirth escalating into wild, hysterical laughter.
Unseen by him, the guards listened expressionlessly, their eyes uniformly filled with mockery.
Outside the capital.
Spring light bathed the land, and all things flourished. The usually empty outskirts were now bustling with carriages and horses, adorned ladies and strolling visitors basking in the gentle sunlight, their passage stirring fragrant dust.
It was the Qingming Festival, a time for outings.
After paying respects at the graves, people sat on the ground, feasting on sacrificial meats and fine wine, chatting and laughing merrily as if celebrating with the departed.
The world that Prince Duan heard in turmoil was now peaceful and serene.
Nearby, however, a few grand new graves stood in solitude. A group of guards kept idle onlookers at bay, while only a few unmarked carriages lingered nearby.
Er Lan tidied Cen Jintian’s grave, lit incense and candles, and burned spirit money.
Someone handed her a bouquet of fresh, dew-kissed flowers from behind.
Yu Wanyin said, "Here, place them with the offerings."
Surprised, Er Lan accepted them and noticed a handful of vibrant green grains nestled within the flowers. She smiled faintly. "Your Majesty is thoughtful."
Cen Jintian had held on until last autumn before succumbing to illness.
The drought arrived as expected, but thanks to the methods he had shared, vast fields of Yanshu and other drought-resistant crops had already been planted. Combined with the secret stockpiling of grain in all granaries a year in advance, the Great Xia was well-prepared, and the famine from the original timeline never materialized. During the autumn harvest, surrounded by loved ones, Cen Jintian closed his eyes in contentment.
Er Lan gently placed the bouquet among the offerings, her expression calm. "Brother Cen, the war in Yan has been settled. Tuer has become Prince Yan and sent another alliance treaty. An era of peace has arrived. Here, you’ll witness bountiful harvests year after year."
Not far away, Wang Zhao’s tombstone finally bore his real name. After paying their respects, Li Yunxi and Yang Duojie gathered a few young colleagues to drink together. Tipsy, they boasted about their friendship with Wang Zhao, pretending they had been close to the esteemed official.Now holding high positions of power, one was finally putting his past efforts in auditing household registries to use at the Ministry of Revenue, busy returning farmland to the people; the other was presiding over the Grace Examination at the Ministry of Personnel, selecting talents. The young officials listened with starry-eyed admiration, hanging onto every word as if ready to jot down notes on the spot.
The east wind carried its annual message, sweeping away the fragrant snow of fallen petals, indifferent to the rise and fall of mortal affairs.
Half of the six scholars they had met on the Painted Boat now lay in eternal rest.
The remaining half had stepped into the glorious future they had once envisioned.
A petal, caught by a gentle breeze, landed in Er Lan’s hair.
Yu Wanyin reached out to pluck it away, whispering in her ear, "Li Yunxi has been stealing glances at you all day. The other day, he even came to ask about you."
Er Lan chuckled. "Does Her Majesty intend to play matchmaker?"
"Not necessarily." Yu Wanyin pulled her up, signaling for her to accompany her on a stroll.
Side by side, they walked into the shade of the blossoms, away from prying eyes. Yu Wanyin said, "Such matters depend on mutual affection. If you have no interest, I’ll shield you from it."
Er Lan seemed lost in thought. "He spoke to me privately. He said he knows he can’t compare to Brother Cen, but with Brother Cen gone, he’s the only one in court who understands me even a little. If I were to retire, he suggested I marry him—so we might work together in harmony, ensuring our ideals wouldn’t go to waste."
No secret stays hidden forever. Over time, subtle clues had led some to suspect Er Lan’s true gender. Recently, the rumors had grown louder, even reaching Yu Wanyin’s ears.
It was upon hearing these rumors that Li Yunxi had mustered the courage to speak to Er Lan, his face flushed like Guan Yu’s throughout the entire conversation, unable to meet her gaze.
For someone like him—who always preached rules and propriety—to take such a step must have required immense resolve.
Yu Wanyin asked, "But you... still refused?"
Er Lan remained silent for a long moment before sighing.
She slowed her pace. "With the Grace Examination reopened, the court is brimming with new talents. My departure would be a fitting conclusion. But..." She looked at Yu Wanyin, her voice softening, "I worry for Your Majesty."
Yu Wanyin’s heart warmed.
Er Lan reached up to adjust a loose strand of her hair. "...After all, the joint rule of emperor and empress will always invite gossip. Your Majesty’s authority is at its peak now, and none dare challenge it. But in the days ahead, with countless affairs to manage, a single misstep..."
"A misstep wouldn’t matter," a voice interjected.
Xiahou Dan approached them at a leisurely pace, leaving his guards and attendants behind. He had removed his heavy imperial crown, his hair half-tied, his graceful demeanor as he moved through the blossoms resembling a noble young master who had wandered into the scene—elegant and seemingly harmless.
His words, however, continued: "The credit for governance and achievements belongs to the empress. Any minor mistakes are the emperor’s fault. If upright ministers offer remonstrance, the empress will heed their counsel. If treacherous officials seize on an issue, my madness can relapse unpredictably—I might just accidentally kill someone in court."
Er Lan: "..."
Er Lan hastily bowed in greeting.
Yu Wanyin stepped forward. "Finished paying respects to Uncle Bei?"
"Yes, here to take you back to the palace." Xiahou Dan took her hand, his fingers lightly tracing her palm, his eyes brimming with quiet amusement.
To explain the boundless sorrows of spring.
"Wait a moment, I’m not done here yet." Yu Wanyin squeezed his fingers. "Go wait in the carriage out of the wind."
Xiahou Dan refused. "I’ll listen in."
"Don’t be difficult, go on..."
Er Lan did her best to pretend she saw nothing.Yu Wanyin finally managed to push Xiahou Dan away and turned to Er Lan. "To be honest, I'm reluctant to let you go too. Li Yunxi and Yang Duojie are thriving right now. Are you really willing to lose to them?"
Er Lan looked up in surprise. "But now everyone knows I'm a woman."
"What a coincidence. I'm in need of people to establish Female Academies across the country."
Yu Wanyin placed a hand on her shoulder. "Li Yunxi was wrong about one thing—he's not the only one who knows your worth. With such talent and vision, why borrow another's name to leave your mark in history?"
A moment later, Er Lan walked back in a daze.
The young officials were still picnicking in the same spot. Seeing her return alone, they asked in surprise, "Where's Her Majesty?"
Li Yunxi still seemed somewhat uncomfortable around her, stealing a glance before lowering his head to fiddle with his wine cup.
Er Lan replied, "His Majesty intercepted her halfway."
Yang Duojie couldn't help but laugh. "They really can't bear to be apart for even a moment."
"..." Li Yunxi downed his cup in one gulp and grumbled, "Drink!"
Inside the carriage.
Xiahou Dan asked, "Did she agree?"
"She said she'd think about it. She'll agree."
Xiahou Dan chuckled softly, then coughed. "Your Majesty is wise."
"Caught a cold?"
He paused. "No."
Yu Wanyin frowned at him.
Xiahou Dan's smile faded slowly as he guiltily reached for her hand. "It was a bit chilly at the cemetery this morning... I'll have ginger tea when we get back."
Even in the warm spring air, his fingers remained icy. Yu Wanyin sighed softly and turned to lift a corner of the curtain, gazing at the tranquil greenery lining the road.
"Such beautiful spring scenery—don't frown." Xiahou Dan murmured, "Haven't things improved greatly this past year? I'll still be with you for many years to come."
Yu Wanyin smiled, her expression softening as he saw through her thoughts.
One year earlier.
After Yu Wanyin rushed to the side hall, the Shadow Guards were ordered to apprehend the Deaf-mute girl. Unexpectedly, she remained calm, sitting quietly as if waiting.
Moments later, she suddenly collapsed, blood streaming from all seven orifices.
The horrified Shadow Guards pried open her mouth, and a crushed Wax Pill rolled out.
The Deaf-mute girl was already on her last breath. When the guards frantically demanded the antidote, she only smiled and said, "There is none... Just sleep, and it'll be over."
Under their bewildered gazes, she quietly passed away.
Yu Wanyin awoke a day later, fully recovered.
Later, Xiao Tiancai carefully examined the poisonous powder from the porcelain vial. Some ingredients were indeed derived from palace flora, but others couldn't be traced—until they inspected the storerooms and noticed an odd scent from a batch of gift boxes. The wood used for these boxes came from various toxic trees.
These were the very gifts the Little Crown Prince had eagerly presented to Yu Wanyin.
Following this lead, they arrested the Crown Prince and his attendants, interrogating them one by one until the full truth emerged:
Fearing the loss of his position—and even his life—the Crown Prince decided to strike first rather than wait passively.
Just as he was struggling for an opportunity, the Deaf-mute girl who had infiltrated the palace approached him. She claimed expertise in poisons but needed help acquiring certain ingredients.
Thus, the Crown Prince used his gift-giving as cover to supply her with the materials, proposing an even more cunning plan: instead of poisoning the Emperor directly, they would first incapacitate the Empress, then use the antidote to coerce her into acting herself.He not only wanted Xiahou Dan dead but also sought to have Yu Wanyin commit regicide. This way, even if Xiahou Dan miraculously survived, they could at least eliminate Yu Wanyin. With a bit more luck, he might even remove both oppressive figures looming over him in one fell swoop.
The Crown Prince, being so young, couldn’t have devised such a cunning plan. The mastermind behind the scheme was none other than the remnants of Prince Duan’s faction.
It turned out that before his defeat, Prince Duan had left behind a plan, instructing his old subordinate to advise the Crown Prince. That subordinate, the last remaining chess piece, had hidden himself well over the years, maintaining no apparent ties to the Prince Duan faction—so well that he even deceived Xiahou Dan’s watchful eyes.
Unfortunately, once the Crown Prince was imprisoned and utterly despondent, he immediately betrayed the subordinate to save his own life. The old subordinate attempted to flee but was captured mid-escape by the Shadow Guards. After days of brutal torture, he finally broke down in tears and surrendered.
There was only one minor variable in the entire affair: the Deaf-mute girl didn’t fully follow orders.
Not only did she refrain from truly harming Yu Wanyin, but she also rushed to the small medicine room first, intending to poison Xiahou Dan herself. Later analysis revealed no other explanation for this act—it could only have been to absolve the Empress of blame.
An assassin who harbored deep hatred for Great Xia had spared her only shred of kindness for Yu Wanyin.
By the time Yu Wanyin learned of all this, the girl had long been buried.
The Little Crown Prince was stripped of his title and confined to a residence for life as a commoner.
As for Prince Duan, Xiahou Dan designed a particularly creative gift in return.
Every few months, they would have the old subordinate perform a charade in the Heavenly Prison, keeping Prince Duan waiting in the delusion of a dramatic comeback. Given Prince Duan’s extraordinary willpower, he would surely endure humiliation and survive on scraps, clinging to that faint glimmer of hope.
After three to five years, when the act could no longer be sustained, they would gently reveal the truth to him.
Upon returning to the palace, Xiahou Dan indeed held his nose and downed a bowl of ginger soup, then voluntarily donned a fox-fur cloak, bundling up as if winter had returned.
The poison he had ingested years ago had damaged his constitution. Though it had been forcibly neutralized, it left new aftereffects. Bedridden and half-dead for over half a year, he only recently regained some color after countless doses of medicine.
It was also during this year that the court gradually grew accustomed to the Emperor and Empress ruling together.
Now that the Emperor had resumed his duties, Yu Wanyin showed no intention of relinquishing power. She still attended court with him daily, and the vermillion endorsements on the Official Memorials were all written in her hand.
When a minister submitted a memorial condemning this, it was Xiahou Dan who lost his temper first: “The imperial physicians have already said I mustn’t overexert myself, yet you want me to work alone—are you afraid I’ll live too long?”
The ministers murmured their assent and dared not speak further. Perhaps it would take them years to realize that Xiahou Dan had actually meant every word.
But within just this year, most had already discovered that while the Empress’s handwriting was somewhat crude, she was indeed the wise ruler they had longed for—calm, sharp-minded, appreciative of pragmatism, and averse to petty disputes. She occasionally proposed startlingly innovative policies, with perspectives so unconventional they seemed beyond this world. Yet in practice, she was open to advice and unashamed to seek guidance.
As if she had ample firsthand experience.
Today was a day of rest, and even the palace servants were given half a day off. They lounged lazily in the Imperial Garden, basking in the sun, with laughter drifting through the air.
After lunch, the Emperor and Empress sat quietly by the window, sipping tea.
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