Chapter 256: Defeat
In a single night, the world changed hands.
Guang Yan, who had murdered his father and sovereign to usurp the throne, was captured and convicted by the Fourth Prince Guang Shuo, who brought along the Guide Central General. Emperor Wenxuan had already issued an edict to change the crown prince before his passing. After the emperor was laid to rest in the imperial mausoleum, the coronation ceremony proceeded as planned—only the one ascending the throne changed from Guang Yan to Guang Shuo.
No one in the court dared to oppose.
Guang Shuo’s actions were decisively ruthless, starkly contrasting his outwardly benevolent and reticent demeanor. As early as the previous night, when capturing Guang Yan, he had already apprehended all of Guang Yan’s most trusted confidants. Guang Yan’s military strength had never been substantial. While he once had the support of the He family due to Xu Jingfu’s influence, ever since He Rufei’s incident, the military authority of the Pacify Yue Army was reclaimed and could no longer be utilized by the Crown Prince.
Eliminating the roots along with the grass, Guang Shuo’s swift and decisive actions struck fear into the hearts of all. Court officials whispered among themselves that the aura of an emperor was already beginning to show in the Fourth Prince.
As for the late emperor’s edict ordering burial with the dead, it was also exposed as a forgery. Consort Lan and Consort Ni, along with dozens of other women, were spared. When this news spread among the common people, they all praised the Fourth Prince for his benevolence and wisdom.
The common people never cared who sat on that throne. As long as they had clothes to wear and food to eat, it didn’t matter who became emperor.
Nor would the court officials oppose. Among the Great Wei imperial family now, the Fifth Prince Guang Ji was still young, and the only one capable of handling affairs was Guang Shuo.
After Emperor Wenxuan was laid to rest in the imperial mausoleum, in Qinglan Palace, Consort Lan removed her heavy ceremonial robes. Just as she sat down, someone entered from outside.
It was Consort Ni.
“Congratulations, sister, for finally achieving your wish,” Consort Ni walked over to the small table and sat down, her smile not reaching her eyes. “Before long, I will have to address you as Her Majesty the Empress Dowager.”
Consort Lan looked at her, her gaze as gentle and calm as ever. “Consort Ni, you are still alive now, aren’t you?”
Consort Ni was taken aback.
That day, when Wei Xuanzhang dashed his head against the steps of Chengle Palace, intensifying the conflict between the Crown Prince and Great Wei to its peak, and with the Crown Prince’s violent and paranoid nature, she had been prepared to follow Emperor Wenxuan into the dark tomb the next day. At the final moment, Consort Ni had collaborated with Consort Lan.
Guang Ji’s words were false, and the succession edict might not have been genuine either. Ultimately, what Guang Shuo needed was merely an excuse—a legitimate pretext.
In truth, at that time, Consort Ni had also resolved to fight with her back against the wall, thinking that since death was inevitable either way, she might as well take a gamble. But deep down, she hadn’t truly believed Guang Shuo would succeed.
Yet Guang Shuo had succeeded against all odds.
Outsiders spoke of it lightly—a single night’s work. Only afterward did Consort Ni finally realize that if it had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, if Guang Shuo had merely been fighting for his mother’s sake, he likely wouldn’t have been able to secure the allegiance of the Guide Central General and General Feng Yun in such a short time.
It was possible that the scene that unfolded in the Golden Luan Hall last night had been foreseen by Consort Lan many years earlier.
Delving even deeper, perhaps Consort Lan hadn’t been entirely unaware that Emperor Wenxuan would die at Guang Yan’s hands.
Guang Shuo’s silence and gentleness, his benevolence and detachment from court affairs; Consort Lan’s non-competitiveness and grace; Emperor Wenxuan’s favor and sincerity—all of these had been arranged by Consort Lan long, long ago. From beginning to end, it wasn’t that Guang Shuo’s acting was too convincing, but that Consort Lan’s plans had been kept even from her own son.Empress Zhang might have guessed one thing correctly: Consort Lan was not one to avoid contention; she simply disdained ordinary favors. When she contended, she contended for the most exalted position in the world for her own son.
Thus, the Crown Prince was destined to lose, for he did not have a mother who could endure and lie in wait for years on his behalf, revealing not the slightest flaw.
Guang Ji was still young, and from this day onward, within the entire imperial family of Great Wei, no one would be a match for Guang Shuo.
A chill slowly rose in Consort Ni’s heart. The woman before her had gentle features; all these years, she had never seen her utter an angry word or a rebuke. Yet it turned out she was the most terrifying one of all.
“I am content merely to live,” Consort Ni lowered her head, her voice unconsciously tinged with humility and fear. “From now on, I will faithfully follow Your Highness. As for Guang Ji… I hope Your Highness will watch over him.”
Consort Lan said nothing, merely gazing out the window. After a long while, she turned back, as if only then hearing Consort Ni’s words clearly. She nodded slightly, closed her eyes, and said, “Very well.”
…
The Crown Prince’s residence was in chaos.
Servants wept and wailed, dragged away or seized by soldiers. The Crown Princess screamed as she was taken away, her nails scraping against the wall, leaving a long mark behind.
Someone walked slowly, making his way to the innermost part of the courtyard, to the very last room.
This was a secret chamber. Crown Prince Guang Yan was cruel and sinister by nature. Those who offended him might be fortunate enough to be killed outright to vent his anger, while others suffered worse fates—locked in the secret chambers of the Crown Prince’s residence, tortured and tormented until life was worse than death.
Now that the Crown Prince’s residence was in turmoil, the soldiers were busy arresting his family and associates, paying no attention to this place.
The young man walked slowly, his clean boots treading on the damp ground. The secret chamber was dark, illuminated only by dim lamplight, revealing dark stains—some dried, others glistening, like human blood.
It was built like a prison, with iron bars separating the rooms and no guards in sight. Hearing the sound of footsteps, the occupants of the rooms showed little reaction, at most lifting their heads slightly before quickly lowering them again—the people here were already on the verge of death and did not believe anyone would come to their rescue.
Despair filled the air.
He walked slowly, pausing before each room to carefully examine the person inside, as if trying to recognize their appearance. When he realized it was not the one he sought, he moved on.
Room by room, he continued until he reached the very last one.
A figure lay curled on the ground, lying on its side like a child, arms wrapped around its shoulders, head buried deeply against its chest. Its clothes were disheveled. Though it did not move, its body began to tremble slightly as he approached.
Chu Zhao paused.
He gazed at the figure inside for a moment before opening the door.
The person inside remained motionless, not even glancing at him. Chu Zhao walked over, slowly kneeling down halfway, as if wanting to comfort them but unsure where to begin. After a moment, he spoke gently, “Ying Xiang.”
The person before him trembled violently.
“Ying Xiang,” Chu Zhao paused before continuing, “The Crown Prince is dead. I’ve come to take you back.”
He reached out to help Ying Xiang up, but she blocked his hand. Yet she seemed utterly exhausted, and her feeble resistance was futile. Chu Zhao helped her sit against the stone wall, brushing aside the tangled hair obscuring her face. Then he froze in shock. “You…”
“…Don’t look…” Ying Xiang murmured weakly.Once delicate and charming, her beautiful and captivating face was now covered in terrifying knife scars. Because they had not been properly treated, the wounds had not yet scabbed over, remaining bloody and raw. A single glance revealed a visage like that of a vengeful female ghost, both shocking and horrifying.
Chu Zhao’s heart trembled violently.
Before Guang Shuo went to Chengle Palace that night, Chu Zhao had visited the Fourth Prince’s residence.
He had seen clearly that Guang Yan was no match for Guang Shuo, and Empress Zhang was not Consort Lan’s opponent either. He truly had no other path to take. Even if he pledged allegiance to Guang Shuo now, Guang Shuo would never trust or employ him. But following Guang Yan would only mean being tied to a sinking ship, doomed to perish together.
When Xu Jingfu was alive, he had taught Chu Zhao that in all matters, one must learn to make choices.
He chose to make one final deal with Guang Shuo.
He revealed the Crown Prince’s military arrangements and plans in full, betraying the Crown Prince in exchange for a chance for himself and Ying Xiang to survive. He no longer harbored any ambitions for advancement in his career, as that was now impossible. Although he could not be certain whether the price of survival would ultimately be paid, given the circumstances, merely staying alive for now was enough.
At the time, Guang Shuo looked at him, seemingly surprised that Chu Zhao would propose such terms, and asked, “Since Chu Fourth Young Master holds your maid in such high regard, why did you willingly send her to Guang Yan’s side in the first place?”
“If you sent her as a spy, there should have been no other sentiment involved. Yet now, at this moment, you ask for nothing but this woman, which is rather puzzling.”
Chu Zhao replied gently, “This subject does not understand either.”
To him, there was nothing in the world that could not be used, and no one who could not be exploited. Yet, time and again, he would inexplicably leave behind vulnerabilities that should never have existed.
He Yan was one such vulnerability, and Ying Xiang was another.
He looked at Ying Xiang before him, momentarily at a loss for how to react.
Ying Xiang only glanced at him before quickly lowering her head, as if afraid of dirtying Chu Zhao’s sleeves, and fell silent.
Faintly, from outside, came the shouts of soldiers and the wails of servants. Ying Xiang listened intently for a moment before asking, “…Has the Crown Prince died?”
Chu Zhao snapped back to reality and replied softly, “Yes. You can leave the Crown Prince’s residence now.”
Upon hearing this, Ying Xiang did not show any sign of joy. Instead, she seemed to shrink back slightly and said, “No…”
“Don’t you want to come back with me?” Chu Zhao asked.
“Fourth Young Master,” her voice was as soft as the most fragile silk, as if it would shatter at the slightest touch. Ying Xiang said, “This servant cannot leave.”
Chu Zhao was taken aback. “Why?”
As if struggling with immense pain, Ying Xiang slowly extended her hand and lifted her sleeve. Chu Zhao’s eyes widened in shock. The skin on her arm, once flawless as snow, was now unrecognizable—scorched as if by fire, crushed as if pounded, and covered in festering wounds.
“The Crown Prince forced this servant to take a poison with no antidote,” Ying Xiang said. “This servant… is a person waiting to die.”
Guang Yan despised her betrayal and disloyalty. For those who were disloyal, he had countless ways to inflict torment. Ying Xiang’s beauty was breathtaking, so he destroyed her appearance. And he ensured she would die in the most devastating and cruel manner—watching as the last inch of her unblemished skin festered, so that even in death, she would be repulsive and nauseating.
To kill a person and break their spirit—it was nothing less than this.Chu Zhao was momentarily overwhelmed by a profound sense of bewilderment—an emotion he hadn’t experienced in many years. At a loss, he turned to Ying Xiang and said, “It’s all right. Once we get out, I’ll find a physician to treat you.”
“It’s no use,” Ying Xiang replied with a bitter smile. “I know myself—there’s no saving me.”
The torches burning on the walls flickered quietly, illuminating half of her face, now smeared with blood and grime, in a horrifying clarity. Gone was the stunning beauty of her past, with its delicate smiles and charming glances.
Chu Zhao stared at her, stunned. He had known that Ying Xiang, having fallen into Guang Yan’s hands, would surely meet a grim fate, but he had never imagined it would come to this.
Alive, yet worse than dead.
“I… have one last request.”
“Speak,” he said.
“In my life, I’ve had nothing of value, save for my appearance.” Ying Xiang reached out as if to touch her face but stopped mid-air. “Now that my face is ruined and I’ve taken an incurable poison, I don’t want to die in a hideous, twisted state. Fourth Young Master… could you grant me a swift end?”
“You want me to kill you?” Chu Zhao looked at her in astonishment.
“My life was saved by you in the first place. To die by your hand now would bring it full circle. Besides,” the woman’s voice softened, “you wouldn’t be harming me—you’d be helping me.”
Chu Zhao said, “I won’t kill you.”
“Then please leave, Fourth Young Master.” For the first time, the maid who had always been meek and submissive toward him showed a resolute expression. “I will stay here and go nowhere else.”
“Ying Xiang,” Chu Zhao found himself at a loss with her for the first time. He spoke patiently, gently, “Your injuries aren’t beyond saving. There are many physicians in Shuojing who can heal you.”
“And what would that change, even if I were healed?” Ying Xiang gave a faint smile. “I no longer have my looks, and I can’t even take care of myself. Staying by your side, unable to serve you, would only be a burden.”
Hearing this, Chu Zhao’s expression shifted slightly. “Is being by my side only about serving me?”
“By your side, there is no place for the useless,” Ying Xiang replied.
Her words carried a hidden sharpness, and he had no retort.
“Years ago, when my father sold me like goods, it was you who saved me. From then on, you became my benefactor, my parent. I would go through fire and water for you without hesitation. Everything I did back then was willingly, but now, as I near death, I wish to decide my own fate.” Ying Xiang looked at him, her once beautiful and gentle eyes now burning with a fiery determination. “I beg you to grant me this.”
Their gazes met, and Chu Zhao could clearly see the unwavering resolve in her eyes—the desire for death.
For the first time, he realized how stubborn and unyielding Ying Xiang truly was.
“I beg you to grant me this.” The woman before him struggled to kneel once more. As she moved, the horrifying wounds on her body gradually became visible, emitting a foul, bloody stench. It was just like the first time she met Chu Zhao, when he bought her and she bowed down in fearful reverence.
She wouldn’t live much longer—even if she didn’t die now, her time was limited.
Chu Zhao closed his eyes. “I promise you.”
“Thank you, Young Master,” Ying Xiang whispered softly.
Chu Zhao reached out to help her up from the ground. Ying Xiang staggered as she lifted her head. The next moment, the hand that had moved behind her suddenly thrust forward.The blade piercing flesh was originally soundless.
She didn’t even have time to speak, pushed forward by the force, she collapsed into Chu Zhao’s arms. Chu Zhao released his grip, cradling her as he half-knelt on the ground.
"...Thank you, Young Master..." Ying Xiang looked at him, struggling to offer a faint smile. "This is the first time... you’ve granted this servant’s wish."
Her body was stained with fresh and old blood, smearing onto Chu Zhao’s clean robes like mottled blossoms. The man looked down at her, his gaze somewhat lost.
It was this hint of helplessness that, in Ying Xiang’s eyes, pierced her heart with sudden, overwhelming pain.
She had loved Chu Zhao from the moment she first saw him. In that desperate situation, when her own father had forced her toward the abyss, a young and handsome youth had thrown her a lifeline. She had grasped that lifeline and fallen in love with the person who offered it.
She loved his gentle refinement and his ruthless cunning. She loved the cold, unfeeling heart beneath his seemingly tolerant and forgiving exterior, and she loved the moments of fragility and helplessness hidden beneath his impenetrable armor.
What a complex man he was—and how unfortunate that complexity made him. Fate had rendered him contradictory. The Chu Zilan others saw was merely a facade; only she knew the real Chu Zilan. The real Chu Zilan was no good man, yet she had thrown herself into this love like a moth to a flame, without hesitation or regret.
All these years, staying by Chu Zhao’s side, enduring Madam Chu’s torment, the harassment from the three legitimate sons of the Chu family, Xu Pingting’s overt and covert schemes, and finally, being sent to the Crown Prince’s residence—reaching this point, she had never regretted it.
Because from the very beginning, she had nothing to lose.
She had felt hatred and resentment toward him, but none of it could compare to her love. This love was hidden cautiously, humbly, yet it surged with such intensity that even she found it unreasonable. Never spoken aloud, it remained silent, unvoiced, loving him all these years.
Chu Zhao was so clever—he couldn’t have failed to notice that she loved him.
"Young Master..." she struggled to speak, "may this servant... ask you one question?"
The man’s voice was soft, gentle with her as always. "Ask."
"Did Fourth Young Master know from the start... that Miss Xu would send this servant to the Crown Prince’s residence?"
Chu Zhao looked down at her.
In those light-colored, fluorite-like eyes, ripples of emotion stirred. He did not answer, but Ying Xiang understood in an instant.
"...So that’s how it was." After uttering these words, she slowly closed her eyes, her breath growing faint until it faded entirely.
In the dimly lit chamber, the man in blue robes quietly gazed down at the woman in his arms. Before his eyes surfaced a memory from many years ago—standing before a vibrant, bustling paradise of earthly pleasures, amidst countless clamoring voices, he had heard a faint sob. Following the sound, he had seen a delicate young girl looking at him, her beauty like blooming peach and plum blossoms, radiant and peerless.
He had saved her, yet he had also doomed her. If he had not intervened back then, perhaps Ying Xiang would have lived a happier life than she did now. Not like this, where even in her final moments in this world, she departed with bitterness.
She had done nothing wrong. If there was any fault, it was simply that she had fallen in love with someone like him.
After an unknowable length of time, Chu Zhao bent down, lifted Ying Xiang’s body, and slowly walked out of the dim chamber, step by step, moving toward the world outside.At the end of his rope, he made one final deal with the Fourth Prince, seeking nothing more than a sliver of pitiful warmth. But now, even that warmth was gone. The last person who had shared his fate was lost, and in this game of chess, he had gained nothing.
Utter defeat.
(End of Chapter)
OpenNovel