The black drapes in the palace were replaced with white cotton gauze. In a single night, the emperor passed away, followed by the empress dowager. For forty-nine consecutive days, the palace mourning bells tolled, and the entire nation grieved in sorrow.
On the day Li Ce was laid to rest in the imperial mausoleum, Chu Qiao moved out of Jinwu Palace. Autumn leaves lay silent and desolate. Dressed in a soft cotton-white gown, she stood atop the high city wall of Xilan Gate, watching the long, winding funeral procession gradually disappear at the end of the courier road.
The setting sun cast a golden glow across the land. The wilderness beyond Tang Capital was overgrown with tall wormwood, swaying back and forth in the bleak autumn wind like waves of gold. As dusk fell and birds flew south, fiery clouds blazed across the horizon. Her slender shadow stretched long, reflected upon the ancient city wall of Tang Capital, weathered by centuries of wind and rain.
Li Ce, forgive me for not being able to see you off. The road ahead is long—may you travel safely.
As the sun gradually sank behind the mountains, a distant moon climbed over the peaks, its cold light spilling onto her robes, ethereal and hazy. Frost seemed to gather on her pale cheeks, and her back felt chilled as if draped in snow. The autumn night air cut sharply into her nostrils like fine blades. A pang of sorrow rose from the depths of her heart, creeping up her spine. It felt as though a boundless, desolate snowstorm had settled within her, leaving only endless cold and confusion.
Mei Xiang approached softly and said, "Miss, let us go."
With one last glance at the dust-obscured courier road, she finally turned away inch by inch. The shadowy city wall loomed menacingly like a crouching beast, its gaping maw threatening to devour what little freedom she had left.
Dust stirred lightly beneath her feet, and a large bird spread its dark wings across the sky. Step by step, she descended as if walking into a deep, murky quagmire. Behind her lay a desolate wilderness; further still stood the majestic mountains of Biantang, its bustling streets, and then the continuous border fortresses. Beyond them lay the land of Daxia.
Across thousands of miles of mountains and rivers, amid the splendor of nations and homelands, she remained trapped within the confines of worldly affairs, drifting like a mayfly upon the currents.
A carriage stood quietly at the foot of the city wall. Sun Di, dressed in a blue robe and looking handsome and refined, stood respectfully nearby. Seeing her approach, he whispered, "Miss, please board the carriage."
"I wish to walk alone for a while."
Chu Qiao spoke calmly, her expression serene, showing no trace of despondency.
Just as Mei Xiang was about to speak, Sun Di handed her a lantern and said gravely, "The night road is treacherous. Please return early, miss."
The high-quality palace-made white paper encasing the lantern emitted a pale, ghastly light. Chu Qiao nodded faintly, took the lantern, and turned to leave. Mei Xiang anxiously moved to follow, but Sun Di gently held her back. The young man shook his head slightly. A full moon hung in the sky, its light quietly enveloping the departing woman as if veiling her in mist, about to dissolve into the night.
Today was Li Ce’s funeral, and the roads were empty save for the crabapple trees lining the path, swaying in the wind and occasionally shedding delicate petals.
"Qiao Qiao, Qiao Qiao…"
Faintly, it seemed she could hear a series of calls again. A man raised his brows, his eyes cunning like a fox’s, gazing at her with a smiling expression.
The water’s surface shimmered like an illusion, rippling with light. Mist veiled the man’s features, gradually fading into pallor and stillness. In the end, he leaned weakly in a wicker chair, smiling at her, and opened his arms, calling softly:
"Qiao Qiao, let me hold you."A teardrop welled up in the woman's eyes, yet she made no move to wipe it away, continuing to walk silently onward. The lantern emitted a ghastly pale light, like the moon in the sky.
Over a decade of life and death, warmth and cold, half a lifetime of hardships and drifting—she had stumbled along like duckweed in the rain, yet ultimately arrived at this dead end of utter despair. Once, she had been trapped by love, bound by countless ties, passive and helpless, stubborn, fragile, and heartbroken. But now, that despondent and powerless woman had finally died along with this fate full of shackles.
The teardrop fell into the lantern. A gust of wind blew, and the candle flame sputtered out with a soft puff, leaving only a wisp of smoke spiraling upward.
She took a deep breath, tossed the lantern to the ground, straightened her back, and strode forward.
She swore that this would be the last tear she shed in this lifetime. From now on, even if the last drop of her blood were drained, she would never again weep in helplessness.
Ahead, the light suddenly grew brilliant. In the distance, a magnificent mansion stood amidst blooming flowers and verdant willows, ablaze with lights, a scene of splendid opulence.
Sun Di, dressed in a light robe and looking composed, stood at the gate holding a palace lantern, quietly awaiting her return.
"Has the young lady made up her mind?"
Chu Qiao looked at him. Moonlight poured down like silver, casting a silvery sheen upon the ground. She nodded silently and said in a low voice, "Clearer than ever."
Sun Di smiled and handed her the lantern in his hand, saying with a grin, "The night road is treacherous. This lantern shall light your way."
"A candle flame can be extinguished by the wind, but the heart cannot."
Chu Qiao walked past him and strode directly into the grand mansion, declaring firmly, "From now on, my eyes shall be my lantern, and my heart the flame within."
The moment she stepped through the vermilion gates, the lights within struck her so intensely that they nearly seared her eyes. A path of white marble connected the main gate to the front hall, flanked by pools of water as clear as mirrors. Several pavilions stood adorned with carvings and vibrant colors, their walls fragrantly painted, draped with brocade curtains and beaded blinds. Warm jade paved the floor, and gold inlaid the railings. A rich fragrance, like a spring breeze in March, swept over her, intoxicatingly sweet.
Qiu Sui stepped forward and said respectfully in a low voice, "After the young lady left back then, His Majesty began renovating this mansion. It took over two years, and now it is finally complete."
Over twenty servants knelt on the ground, kowtowing in unison as Chu Qiao approached and greeting her loudly.
As Chu Qiao walked further inside, she saw the hall's ceiling made of sandalwood, crystal lamps, jade walls infused with fragrant wood, and silk curtains billowing like the sea. Enormous luminous pearls were embedded in the lamp bases, shining brightly like the full moon. The hall pillars were carved with colorful phoenixes, adorned with gold powder, gleaming brilliantly under the candlelight.
On the gilded, hollowed-out red paper, a few slender magnolia flowers were painted. The fragrance wafted over, faintly evoking the memory of that night many years ago when he, with childlike playfulness, snatched a palace maid’s hair ornament and tucked it, along with a magnolia, into her thick, dark hair.
"By decree, the Chu clan, nurtured in a renowned family, blessed with generations of virtue, well-versed in literature and propriety, humble and respectful in demeanor. Upholding virtue with gentle grace, knowledgeable of past and present, and innately inclined toward goodness, we hereby bestow this honor, granting a noble title (), with everlasting blessings and prosperity hereafter."
Below was Li Ce’s seal, though the space for the title after "granting a noble title" remained blank.Sun Di stepped forward and said in a low voice, "His Majesty had not yet decided on the title for the lady's ennoblement back then. After long discussions with his advisors, the Ministry of Rites proposed several designations, but none satisfied His Majesty, so the matter was left unresolved. It was originally intended to be discussed again later, but the delay continued until there was no longer any opportunity."
Chu Qiao stood silently, the lamplight casting an eerie glow upon her pale cheeks. Her lips were crimson, and her fingers clutched the imperial edict with such force that her knuckles turned white.
Inside the room, a dazzling array of gold and jade met her eyes—every rare treasure imaginable, all prepared as her dowry, stored here for many years.
Her eyes grew warm, and she couldn't help but furrow her brow tightly. Her voice, deep as a secluded lake, was faint as she said, "Since the decree was never issued, there is no need to mention the title of lady anymore."
Sun Di nodded. "You are absolutely right, miss. It is late now; please rest. I shall take my leave."
With that, he turned and departed.
The vermilion doors slowly closed, their heavy sound rumbling like muffled thunder rolling across the ground.
Mei Xiang approached with a letter, her brow slightly furrowed, and said softly, "Miss, Young Master Zhuge has sent another letter."
A flicker of emotion stirred in Chu Qiao's eyes. She took the letter but did not open it. The sweat from her palm seeped into the paper, making it slightly damp.
Mei Xiang frowned and said, "Miss, this is already the ninth letter. If you don't reply, Young Master Zhuge will grow anxious."
Chu Qiao sat silently, saying nothing, her gaze fixed intently on the candle flame by the window, lost in thought for a long time.
Yanbei and Daxia were at war again. Four battles had already been fought at Wild Goose Cry Pass, and the front lines had expanded to the southern edge of Batuha's territory. Zhao Yang, in collusion with the Mu clan of Lingnan and Prince Jing Han, had taken full control of the southwestern troops, confronting Zhuge Yue and Zhao Che's northern forces at Phoenix Terrace. The situation was perilous, ready to ignite at any moment.
The emperor had been ill for a long time and had not held court for a year. Wei Guang, claiming illness, also abstained from political affairs. No one knew what schemes this old fox was plotting. The situation in Daxia had become like a pot of water about to boil—just one piece of firewood needed to make it erupt. At such a time, no one could afford the slightest carelessness or rash action.
This, she understood. And how could he not understand?
Mei Xiang couldn't help but ask, "Miss, what are we really doing now?"
Chu Qiao's gaze slowly turned to her, her eyes cold as frost, silent and somber. In a low, measured voice, she said, "Waiting."
The new emperor's enthronement ceremony was held the following day.
In the Imperial Academy Hall, a young child sat upon the magnificent golden dragon throne. Behind him, a curtain was drawn, and two women in embroidered deep robes sat there—the mother of the eldest prince, Empress Dowager Yuan, and the imperial consort, Lady Zhan.
In the spacious hall, Zhan Ziyu, with the authority of Grand Tutor and Regent, sat quietly below the throne. Dressed in solemn black court robes embroidered with six coiling pythons and a towering crown, he wore a faint, tranquil smile, like cold moonlight reflecting on water, calm and undisturbed.Li Ce's harem had remained without an empress for many years, and he himself had no siblings. Now that he had suddenly passed away, with the empress dowager also deceased, the court ministers could only follow Li Ce's final decree and install the eldest prince Li Xiuyi as emperor. However, the prince's mother, Consort Yuan, came from the lowest rank of palace laundry maids and was unqualified to serve as regent. Thus, the highest-ranking imperial consort, Consort Dowager Ming, naturally became the emperor's adoptive mother and jointly assisted in governance.
The emperor was merely six years old, with the empress dowager and consort dowager acting as regents, imperial power naturally fell into others' hands. Since Consort Yuan had been confiscated into the palace as a young girl and came from servant origins without family connections, the power of the Biantang imperial court instantly fell into the hands of the Zhan siblings who had once been expelled from Biantang.
The shifting winds in the court were like undercurrents flowing beneath a frozen lake—showing no visible sharp edges yet surging fiercely enough to kill invisibly between breaths.
Former favored ministers led by Sun Di all faced suppression, uniformly branded as followers of the Luo Prince and thrown into the Shangli Court for investigation. All palace attendants serving by Li Ce's side when he passed away were executed, while all consorts, dancers, and lower-ranking concubines were expelled from the palace and sent to Anhua Temple on Foshan Mountain to become nuns.
The new emperor's policies swept through the entire Biantang court like an autumn wind scattering fallen leaves. A cold long sword hung over the entire Great Tang, and any dissenting voices faced ruthless elimination.
Under such high-pressure politics, previously hesitant veteran ministers quickly switched allegiances. After each morning court session, they gathered like carrion-eating jackals at the residence gate of Regent Prince Zhan Ziyu, engaging in shameless sycophancy.
However, what surprised Chu Qiao was that under these circumstances, the first to stand in opposition was none other than the Elder Liu who had frequently opposed Li Ce.
On the first day of the ninth month, before the Jinwu Palace gates, Elder Liu publicly denounced the Zhan siblings as treacherous ministers disrupting the court before Zhan Ziyu's carriage. He declared that the assassination attempt on the late emperor at Roufu Palace remained suspicious and likely originated from the Zhan siblings, accusing Zhan Ziyu and Zhan Ziming of regicide deserving execution. He then threw himself upon the blades of Zhan Ziyu's guards, shouting Li Ce's royal title as he died, blood spraying three feet as he fell instantly.
Zhan Ziyu remained inside his carriage throughout, never emerging or uttering a word. Only after Elder Liu's body was removed did he leisurely descend, tossing three hundred gold pearls in silver notes to the Liu family nephews who came to collect the corpse, instructing them to bury their elder.
Chu Qiao was eating when she received this news. Duoji cautiously informed her, causing her hand to pause mid-motion, spilling half a spoonful of lotus seed soup. She fell into silent contemplation for a long while.
That night, the lamplight before Chu Qiao's window remained unextinguished for hours. Duoji sat through the night on a stone slab in the courtyard, a leather wine pouch hanging from his waist.
After Elder Liu's incident spread throughout Great Tang, it triggered significant turmoil. Scholars from various regions gathered in Tang Capital, writing tens of thousands of impassioned essays that found their way into court circles through connections, demanding the Shangli Court, Three Departments Office, and Military Ministry severely punish the murderers and restore clarity to the Great Tang court.Yet two days later, Zhan Ziyu dispatched the Central Army to brutally suppress the scholars. In no time, the prison of Shangli Court was overcrowded, filled with impassioned voices. The chief magistrate of Shangli Court, wearing a troubled expression, went to ask Zhan Ziyu for guidance. The young regent, adorned with a tall ceremonial crown, casually remarked, "Isn't there still space at Huangquan Slope in the suburbs?"
The white-haired magistrate, who had served three dynasties, felt a chill run down his spine. Huangquan Slope in the suburbs was a mass burial ground for the unclaimed dead. The regent's implication was unmistakable.
That afternoon, a fire accidentally broke out in the prison of Shangli Court, burning down more than half of the cells. Most of the prisoners inside were killed or injured, and the bodies of the young victims were haphazardly discarded at Huangquan Slope without even coffins, left exposed under the broad daylight to become midnight feasts for jackals, wolves, tigers, and leopards. Shangli Court merely handed over two negligent jailers who had been drinking on duty as a perfunctory resolution.
September 27, strong winds, deep autumn.
The morning court session today was slightly different from usual, entirely presided over by Regent Zhan Ziyu. Behind the curtain, only Zhan Ziming was present. The imperial physician claimed the emperor had caught a chill and could not attend court, and the empress dowager was tending to him. Thus, the morning court was entirely hosted by the imperial consort.
Before the court officials could react, eunuchs carried in a resplendent golden throne from behind the hall, engraved with a nine-tailed bright yellow python. At first glance, it looked almost identical to the Coiled Dragon Throne.
The eunuch delivering the decree stepped forward to sing praises of Zhan Ziyu, then produced an imperial edict stating that the throne had been commissioned by the emperor himself out of pity for Zhan Ziyu's ailing health, allowing him to sit on it during court sessions henceforth. Additionally, the Lingxiao Hall in Jinwu Palace was bestowed upon the regent to spare him the daily commute.
Zhan Ziyu declined modestly but eventually yielded to the officials' urging and reluctantly took his seat. The court officials bowed beneath him, looking up to see the regent's seat nearly on par with the imperial throne, dazzlingly radiant and blindingly brilliant.
That night, after setting down the message scroll, Chu Qiao let out a deep sigh and said to Tie You, "Return to the palace and keep a close watch on the emperor. It's time."
Three days later, in the evening, a tremendous uproar suddenly erupted from Jinwu Palace, startling everyone awake or asleep. High-ranking officials and commoners alike rushed out of their homes, standing in their courtyards and gazing toward the source of the noise. The direction of Jinwu Palace was ablaze with lights, suffused with a crimson glow as if a great fire had broken out somewhere. The sounds of killing and screams were incessant, piercing the ears like ghostly wails.
In an instant, everyone was terrified, their faces turning ashen. Timid men hurriedly ushered their wives and children indoors, bolting doors and windows tightly, fearing they might suffer collateral damage. Only some court officials stared in shock at the palace gates, murmuring, "It seems the heavens are about to change again."
At the third watch, the palace gates were breached. Lu Yunxi, his robes stained with blood, charged out with a sword, followed by three thousand fierce wolf soldiers. He reported solemnly to Chu Qiao before the Taian Gate, "Miss, we have taken Lingxiao Hall."
Under the pitch-black sky, Chu Qiao stood clad in a black robe embroidered with a golden-feathered green luan, her face as pale as jade, exuding sharp intelligence and grace. Behind her were ten thousand soldiers of the Xiuli Army, a dark, imposing force. He Xiao, calm and composed, sat astride his warhorse, closely guarding her side. The white banners with red clouds fluttered above the crowd. The night was dark, the wind high, and the sky overcast with thick clouds, devoid of stars or moon. The blood-red torchlight cast on Chu Qiao's face made her resemble a cold, sharp sword, revealing no emotion whatsoever."Enter the palace."
A cold, faint voice rang out, sharp as a blade scraping against stone, piercing the eardrums of all present.
A fierce wind swept through, whipping up the fluttering edges of Chu Qiao's robes. She lifted her sharp chin, narrowed her eyes slightly, and gently nudged her horse's flank, urging it forward into the magnificent, towering palace.
By the time the last guard of Lingxiao Hall had fallen, the fire in the western hall had been extinguished. Du Ping An rushed forward with a group of soldiers, the young boy's eyes gleaming with a resolute light, as if he had matured overnight.
Ten thousand guards stood behind Chu Qiao, their blazing torches illuminating half the sky, casting light upon the chaotic scene of corpses strewn across the ground.
Chu Qiao urged her horse up the white jade steps. The plaque of the Regent's palace, which palace attendants usually dared not even look up at directly, had been torn down and trampled under hoof, the sound of its shattering echoing through the air.
A shrewd palace eunuch hurried forward, kneeling on the ground and loudly proclaiming his welcome to the great general as she dismounted. Chu Qiao cast him a cold glance, then stepped directly onto his back to dismount, striding step by step toward the imposing palace gates.
The gates swung open abruptly, and a cold breeze carrying the scent of sandalwood rushed out, whipping up Chu Qiao's black cloak with a whoosh. The sword at her waist was like frigid ice, its chill piercing deep into her heart. In the vast, desolate hall, Zhan Ziyu sat alone, reminiscent of years past on a riverboat—a man in blue robes seated in a wooden wheelchair, facing the surging waters under the clear moonlight, his eyes as cold as mountain springs, his voice mellow as he calmly asked, "Who's there?"
The wind blew through the carved window, scattering a sheet of bright yellow paper adorned with faint dragon patterns—the very paper used by the emperor to draft imperial decrees.
Chu Qiao stepped into the hall, her feet treading over the decree as she gazed indifferently at the shadowy figure behind the deep, layered curtains. Quietly, she said, "I've come for your life."
Zhan Ziyu smiled faintly, his tone light and detached. "I never thought it would be you."
"Even the wisest can err. For a man of humble origins to rise to such heights in just five years is no small feat."
Chu Qiao spoke calmly, her expression unreadable, devoid of any emotion.
Zhan Ziyu chuckled. "Are those words meant to comfort me? Well, it's not easy to earn praise from the renowned General Xiuli."
Chu Qiao replied coolly, "Do you have any unfinished wishes?"
A trace of melancholy flickered across Zhan Ziyu's face. He frowned slightly, then spoke as if with great reluctance, "I am unwilling that I never had the chance to ride in a chariot drawn by eight horses."
Upon hearing this, Chu Qiao's mind drifted momentarily, recalling the joke she had once shared with Zhan Ziyu. Back then, during a conversation, Zhan Ziyu lamented that he would never ride a horse again. To console him, Chu Qiao had jokingly suggested raising eight exceptional horses to pull his chariot. Zhan Ziyu had smiled faintly and called her foolish, explaining that only the emperor could ride in a chariot drawn by eight horses—for him to do so would be tantamount to rebellion.
Time flowed like water, and in the blink of an eye, everything had become as illusory as the moon reflected in water, never to return to the past.
"General Chu, why is it that the Li family can rule this land, but I cannot? Did they not seize this empire from the previous dynasty? Why are they considered the legitimate rulers, while I am branded a traitor and rebel?"A trace of formidable ambition flickered in Zhan Ziyu's eyes. He tilted his head slightly, gazing at the high ceiling as he spoke with an undeniably ambitious tone: "Besides, the Li family owes me. What's wrong with taking back what belongs to me?"
Chu Qiao remained unmoved, her voice calm as she replied: "That's your personal grudge. It has nothing to do with me."
She stepped forward slowly, her footsteps echoing through the hall like water dripping through an hourglass, each step resonating against the four walls.
"You killed someone precious to me, so I will kill you for revenge."
The sharp sword was drawn inch by inch from its scabbard, its cold gleam shimmering with the frosty radiance of the moonlit night. Like a brilliant spark of starlight, it cast a pale white streak of light across their faces.
"Any last words?"
"Spare my sister. She's just a woman, and everything she did was for my sake."
Chu Qiao looked at him, remaining silent for a long time. A faint bitterness slowly rose in her heart. The wind from outside blew in from afar, stirring the hems of their robes like a pool of dark ink.
"I'm sorry, I can't do that."
She coldly spat out a few words, then suddenly swung her sword. Vaguely, she remembered that night many years ago when Zhan Ziyu smiled faintly and said to her, "You're not wrong either, but when you're in the game, you often can't see clearly. When an opportunity arises, you can't help but want to give it a try."
Give it a try...
A spurt of blood suddenly gushed out, splashing onto Chu Qiao's dark Xuan Mo-colored collar, quickly soaking in and congealing into a dark stain.
Chu Qiao bent down to pick up the head on the ground. The man's black hair was meticulously combed, his face as pale as jade, his features gentle as if he were merely asleep. Only the severed neck was drenched in blood, a gruesome sight.
With a "thud," Chu Qiao tossed the head into the arms of a guard and said sternly, "Hang this head on the palace gate for the attacking Central Army to see."
With that, she walked out of Lingxiao Hall, swiftly mounted her horse, and said to those around her, "To Roufu Palace."
The moon had unknowingly emerged from the clouds, casting a bleak, pale light. Lingxiao Hall gradually grew cold and silent. Armored soldiers hurried away, leaving behind only the corpses of those who had resisted. Crows cawed overhead, their black wings like funeral banners of death. In the empty hall, the headless corpse still sat quietly on the golden python throne, a sinister and terrifying sight.
The battle at Roufu Palace had already ended. Tie You and Sun Di arrived together, both stained with blood, a testament to the intensity of the fighting.
Chu Qiao dismounted and said to Sun Di, "You've suffered."
Sun Di smiled casually and replied, "It's nothing. Just that the prison food was so poor I've lost a lot of weight."
"Miss, Grand Concubine Zhan has been captured," Tie You said gravely.
Chu Qiao raised an eyebrow slightly. "Is the emperor alright?"
Tie You frowned slightly. "He's fine, just a bit shaken."
"That's good." Chu Qiao breathed a sigh of relief and asked, "Then why the long face?"
"Empress Dowager Yuan has passed away. When we rushed in, she thought we were Grand Concubine Zhan's people. Before we could speak, she dashed her head against the wall and died."
Upon hearing this, Chu Qiao frowned deeply. She hadn't expected the Yuan clan to be so cowardly. Despite her exhaustive efforts to pave a way out for the mother and son, the woman had died without a word.
"Miss," Sun Di stepped forward and said solemnly, "The evidence of the Zhan siblings' crimes—assassinating the late emperor, forming cliques for personal gain, plotting against the current emperor, and attempting to install Prince Rong—has all been gathered here. We can announce it to the world tomorrow and expose their crimes."
Chu Qiao slowly took the papers. Though they were only a few sheets, they felt heavier than a thousand pounds.
"Let me out! You slaves! Release me!"
A heart-wrenching scream suddenly rang out. The once magnificent Roufu Palace was now in ruins, burned and littered with rubble and dust. Zhan Ziming, clad in a bright red phoenix robe, was desperately struggling with two palace maids, trying to force her way out of the bedchamber. Her eyes were bloodshot, and not a trace of her former elegance and beauty remained.
When she saw Chu Qiao, Sun Di, and the others, she suddenly froze, staring fixedly at them. Then, as if recognizing her, she burst into wild, hysterical laughter. "So it's you!"Chu Qiao remained silent, simply watching her quietly. So many years had passed, yet they unexpectedly reunited here today. The woman who once gazed with earnest devotion as she followed her elder brother was long gone. The person standing before her now was nothing but a madwoman.
“Where is my third brother?” she suddenly demanded sharply.
Chu Qiao’s expression remained unchanged as she replied slowly, “Dead.”
Zhan Ziming froze momentarily, as if she had long anticipated this day. After a long pause, she suddenly let out a bitter, rasping laugh, her voice shrill like a night eagle soaring high above. Her gaze turned ashen, filled with lifelessness as she stared at Chu Qiao and said hoarsely, “Did you kill him?”
“Yes.”
“Good, very good. The one he favored is indeed remarkable. No wonder, among the three thousand powdered faces in the entire palace, you were the only one he truly cared for.”
Chu Qiao watched this beautiful yet deranged woman coldly, her eyes filled with the weariness and pity of one who saw through the lovely facade to the shattered soul within.
“What do you intend to do with Rong’er?”
“He is not only your child but also Li Ce’s. I will treat him well.”
Zhan Ziming nodded despondently, a bitter smile twisting her lips. “Good. My hands are stained with blood, and I’ve even harmed him. If not for my third brother, I would have long lost the will to live. Do it now.”
In that moment, through Zhan Ziming’s sorrowful smile, Chu Qiao glimpsed the heart riddled with scars. Her childhood admiration for her brother had driven her to follow Zhan Ziyu’s every command without hesitation. Yet, after entering the palace, she had unwittingly fallen in love with Li Ce—a love she might not have even recognized until the day she attempted to assassinate him as planned, when the truth of her feelings dawned upon her. Outside Yixin Hall that day, her grief had seemed genuine. Yet, the two men she had loved in her lifetime—one never loved her, the other could not love her—had ultimately made her a tragic joke of fate.
“Grant Imperial Consort Zhan poisoned wine and a white silk sash.”
Chu Qiao turned resolutely and strode out of the hall. The wind outside rushed in, the darkness enveloping her like a thick tide. The main gate of Jinwu blazed with torchlight, yet the sounds of battle gradually faded. A sharp signal horn pierced the cold night sky, carrying the scent of dust, the stench of countless slaughters, and the weight of innumerable lost souls. It surged from all directions, overwhelming her like a storm.
She gripped her silver sword, her dark robes stained with blood. Behind her, a vast expanse of blinding flames illuminated the black-armored warriors standing at her sides. Her gaze was icy, fixed intently on the distant horizon. Far to the north, where cold desolation churned, her eyes remained unblinking, as if searching for someone, only to be swallowed by the abyss of nothingness, leaving no trace.
“Imperial Consort Zhan has passed—”
A eunuch’s drawn-out voice chanted a mournful elegy.
In that instant, the sun pierced through the dark clouds. Dawn approached, and the long night would finally end. But what could dispel the darkness within her heart?
Fate was like a raging wildfire, scorching her until she was broken and fragmented. Her beautiful dreams and hopes for the future would inevitably vanish in the blaze. From this moment on, she would shed all weakness, sorrow, mercy, kindness, and even her yearning for beautiful things. She would truly grow strong, guarding all that she held dear.
Anyone who dared to encroach even an inch would pay a grievous price.
“Aunt!”A frail young voice suddenly called out, and a small child's figure immediately threw itself into Chu Qiao's embrace. The emperor's face was tear-streaked, his little cheeks flushed red as he cried, "Mother is dead! Auntie, Yi'er's mother is dead!"
The child was still so young, his delicate features already bearing a striking resemblance to Li Ce.
She knelt down and held the child tightly in her arms. Her entire body felt cold, except for a single warm spot over her heart.
This was Li Ce's child. This was Li Ce's empire. This was Li Ce's home. He had protected her for so many years—now it was her turn to protect him.
"Don't be afraid, Yi'er. You still have your auntie."
"Miss,"
Mei Xiang stood quietly to the side, holding a child in her arms. Chu Qiao stood up and slowly walked over, seeing it was Zhan Ziming's son, Li Qingrong.
This child, who had been enfeoffed as Prince Rong since birth, was sleeping peacefully, completely unaware of the bloody storm his arrival had unleashed upon the world. His father and mother had both passed away, leaving behind this scarred land and a kingdom teetering on the brink.
"Miss, look how soundly the Third Prince is sleeping."
Mei Xiang, who loved children, smiled as she showed Prince Rong to Chu Qiao.
Chu Qiao reached out to take the child, but he was startled awake. He let out an impatient yawn, his eyes half-open as he looked at Chu Qiao—the image was the spitting likeness of Li Ce.
Chu Qiao's eyes welled up, tears nearly falling. She held the child tightly against her chest, her cheek pressed to his small face, her heart feeling hollow and desolate.
"My lady, Liu Yuanzong, son of Grand Tutor Liu, has brought the civil and military officials to the Gate of Tai'an. They are asking what has happened and whether the emperor is safe."
Chu Qiao lifted her head, her gaze instantly turning cold. She said sternly to He Xiao, "Tell the ministers that Regent Zhan Ziyu conspired with Consort Zhan to harm the emperor and plot a usurpation. Empress Dowager Yuan died amidst the chaos, but the emperor is safe. The perpetrators have been executed, and the ministers need not worry."
He Xiao departed, and soon, cheers of "Long live the emperor!" echoed outside the palace gates. Guards reported: Liu Yuanzong was the first to pledge loyalty, and all the court officials submitted. The battles at the South Gate, North Gate, and Qian'guang Gate had ceased. The rebellious Central Army soldiers had been captured and awaited judgment.
The palace gates swung open. Below the jade steps stood rows of civil and military officials and countless generals. A red sun rose in the sky, illuminating the vast world. Chu Qiao, holding Prince Rong and leading the emperor by the hand, ascended the white jade imperial path step by step.
Cries of "Long live the emperor!" resounded through the palace. The newly risen sun cast a faint golden light upon her dark robes and the white battle flag with red clouds, where the faint watermark characters "Xiu Li" were visible. A long wind blew, leaving the world feeling vast, empty, and desolate.
"Auntie,"
the emperor called out in his clear, young voice, pointing timidly at the golden dragon throne opposite. Frowning, he said, "I don't want to sit there."
Chu Qiao knelt down, gently stroking his face, and said softly, "Yi'er, that seat was built with the blood and bones of countless people. It is your destiny. Your father and mother both died for it. The Great Tang empire rests upon your shoulders. The eyes of all our ancestors are watching you from above. This is your duty—you cannot retreat."
Frightened by her words, the emperor grabbed her hand and asked, "Then what about you, Auntie? Will you abandon me too?"Chu Qiao helped him onto the throne and said quietly, "Auntie won't leave. Auntie will always stay with you."
As Chu Qiao turned around, all civil and military officials along with the soldiers knelt down in unison. The cries of "Long live the emperor!" echoed through the air, startling flocks of birds in the sky.
The officials didn't know who they were kneeling to at this moment—the young child on the throne, or the young woman holding command over both the Wolf Army and Xiuli Army. Various unfathomable schemes swirled through the court, just as they had for thousands of years, without a moment of peace or tranquility.
The dust has settled, the die is cast—once the chess piece is played, there is no room for regret.
Li Ce, you can rest assured.
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