A voice spoke softly from the distant palace gates, where the lanterns blazed so brightly they dazzled the eyes. Yet Guan Shubai seemed instantly paralyzed, her gaze fixed unwaveringly on the scene. Hidden within her wide sleeves, her wrists trembled violently, as if drained of all strength like a dying patient.
A figure in brilliant yellow stood bathed in the layered glow of lanterns, appearing even more resplendent. Dozens of palace attendants and guards attended carefully on either side, encircling him like stars surrounding the moon—tall, elegant, and peerless. Beside him, a delicate figure in pale pink stood gracefully, her fingers pale as jade, timid yet resolute as she clutched a corner of his sleeve.
It was like a drowning person, on the verge of death, desperately grasping for a floating plank. After great effort and struggle, they finally seize it, only to discover it is a venomous water snake.
A metallic sweetness surged up her throat, yet her mind suddenly became crystal clear.
This woman—she was not unfamiliar. It seemed that from the very day Guan Shubai entered the palace, this person had already been living within its walls. Her name was Meng Suxin. Rumor had it she was merely a low-ranking maid who, by chance, had gained favor and was granted the lowest of titles, with no further advancement. Over the years, as the harem battled fiercely for power and survival, no one had ever paid attention to this quiet woman—childless, without an honorary title, lacking a powerful family background, and devoid of the emperor’s affection.
Darkness swirled before her eyes. Guan Shubai wanted to laugh, but no sound emerged.
How clever! What exquisite calculation!
The guards had withdrawn, leaving her standing alone. Behind her loomed the dark palace walls, towering like verdant mountains, majestic and imposing, severing all her life’s hopes like a guillotine. Her white robes were already stained crimson, the blood beneath her snaking into a grotesque, ink-black trail—the remains of her six-month-old fetus, lost on this absurd and ridiculous night. Her face was as pale as paper, yet her cheeks flushed with a sickly redness. The wound near her collarbone had reopened, blood trickling out steadily. As if unable to bear the sight before her, she raised her left hand to cover her eyes, but large tears rolled down between her fingers.
All those years of tender affection and intimacy had ultimately become a mockery. Every vow of eternal love had been nothing but meticulously precise schemes and exploitation.
Guan Shubai, Guan Shubai, even now, are you still not awake?
She let out a cold laugh, her face ghostly pale, yet her eyes held a piercing light. The smile at the corners of her lips gradually widened until she burst into mad, hysterical laughter, tears streaming down with each laugh—mocking her self-deception, her foolish fantasies, her utter stupidity!
"Yan Ling! How could I have ever believed you?"
Her eyes turned icy, yet her lips still curved into a smile. Her voice, hoarse and shrill like a ghost’s, enunciated each word slowly: "How could I have ever believed you?"
The emperor stood there, his eyes like obsidian—deep and inscrutable, seemingly transparent yet concealing all emotion, not a trace of fluctuation visible. How she had once adored those eyes! But now, gazing upon them, she felt only a bone-chilling cold, as if it could freeze her very blood. This handsome, captivating man—the man she had loved and trusted for so many years!
"Life is like a game of chess. Once a move is made, there is no turning back. Xiao Bai, you have lost."His voice was light and mellow, like the calm autumn waters, quietly resonating through this cold and desolate night. Yan Ling stood there, gazing at the blood-soaked woman, and spoke softly.
How familiar those words were. He had always enjoyed playing chess—whether it was the power struggles at court or leisurely games in the inner chambers. She had painstakingly learned the game to play with him during his spare time. She always lost, and whenever she did, she would playfully cheat. He would always gently say to her, "A move once made cannot be taken back. You’ve lost."
What sweet memories those were. Yet now, recalling them felt like being stabbed by a knife. Guan Shubai stared fixedly at him, the whites of her eyes bloodshot, gritting her teeth as she whispered, "Why?"
Yan Ling replied, "The timing was right, the place was right, and the person was right."
It was as if a guillotine had suddenly severed all hope. In that moment, all the memories of the past shattered into countless sharp arrows, piercing through her last stubborn resolve. A lump of blood stuck in her chest, too stifling to spit out, hammering against her organs with a deep, dull ache.
So that was all. There was no reason, no conspiracy—it was simply that she had appeared before him at the right time and in the right place, conveniently becoming the perfect pawn. She had helped the emperor conceal his ambitions, maintain balance in the harem, led outsiders to believe he was indulging in pleasures and let their guard down, and attracted all hostile attention, protecting the one he truly loved from the harem’s conflicts, allowing her to safely wait until he gained full control.
That was all. Just that.
"Why me?"
He remained silent for a moment before replying calmly, "Guan Xu’s influence was strong enough to counterbalance the Gu family."
Yes, before she entered the palace, the most favored consort had been Gu Jin’an’s sister, Gu Lanjin. The Gu family were feudal lords of a different surname and had long harbored rebellious intentions. After she entered the palace, she contended with Gu Lanjin and eventually brought her down. Her father had also helped him remove the Gu family, that thorn in his side, from the court.
How long ago was that? So long that she could hardly remember.
She clutched her chest, the pain in her abdomen already numb. That was her child—the child she had longed for day and night, the child she had endured countless bitter medicines to conceive. She still remembered losing her first child in the same way. Back then, the Gu family had already fallen, but he had not executed Gu Lanjin, only demoted her rank. Unwilling to accept defeat, the woman had pushed her down a high flight of stairs during a small banquet. Panic-stricken, she had desperately hugged her belly as she tumbled down step by step. Her head was gashed, blood streaming down, yet she paid it no mind. The sunlight that day was blindingly bright, shining warmly on her face, yet she felt so cold she trembled. So many people had gathered around, yet not one of them could save her child.That child ultimately died after all. She awoke in the rainy night, weeping in despair. At that time, Gu Lanjin was already pregnant, heavily with child and nearing her due date. Because of this, the Empress Dowager did not punish her but instead placed her in the cold palace. Upon learning this, she flew into a rage, drew her blade, rushed straight to the cold palace, and ended Gu Lanjin’s life with a single strike. Thus, aside from Gu Jin’an who had fled, the entire Gu family was slaughtered, not a single soul left alive. When the Empress Dowager found out, she was furious, rebuking her for presuming on imperial favor and scheming to harm the imperial heir, and had her thrown into the Imperial Clan Court to be dealt with according to the law. He received the news and rushed from the court, carrying her out of the Imperial Clan Court. At that time, his brow was furrowed, his lips pressed tightly together, holding her firmly as he repeated over and over: We will have another child.
We will have another child!
Yes, in the end, they did have one—but he used it as bait and killed it with his own hands!
Looking back now, everything back then was nothing but a prearranged play. The Gu family had fallen, Gu Lanjin could not be spared, and the child in her womb could not be kept either, even though that child also carried his blood.
After her miscarriage, her body was weak, yet she walked all the way to the cold palace with a blade, and no one stopped her. Was it not he who used her hand to eliminate Gu Lanjin and the trouble in her womb?
He was so ruthless, even toward his own wife and his own child.
Yes, after all, he had so many wives, and so many people were eager to bear children for him.
He spent five years setting up this scheme: first eliminating the Gu family, then cutting down the Guan clan. In today’s battle, she was a pawn, and Gu Jin’an, the one who slipped through the net back then, was also a pawn. What he truly aimed for were the three southwestern feudal lords. With this campaign, three of the five feudal lords in the realm were gone. The abolition of the feudal system was now inevitable, and no one could stand in his way anymore.
When a heart aches to the point of numbness, does it stop feeling pain? Then why does she still feel this agony, so intense that she wishes she could imitate the Empress and dash her head against the ground until she dies?
She lifted her head, feeling that her whole life had been a bitter joke. All that she had clung to, all that she had insisted on—it had all been wrong.
She crouched down and picked up the blade. The knife was too heavy; she staggered several times but failed to steady it. The guards watched her warily, as if afraid this woman, clinging to her last breath, might suddenly erupt and harm their sovereign.
With her slightest movement, more blood gushed from her body. The tip of the blade scraped against the ground, emitting a piercing screech. The guards tensely closed in, separating her from the Emperor. All around, bright red torches blazed as if they could set the sky ablaze. Rows of cold, sharp blades were aimed at her; the slightest suspicious move would pierce her to shreds.
Meng Suxin seemed uneasy, her brow tightly furrowed, a glimmer of pity shimmering in her eyes as she gazed at her. Her fingers, slender and pale like fine jade, lightly tugged at the Emperor’s sleeve. Her fingertips trembled, brushing against the Emperor’s long wrist.
The Emperor turned his head, patted the back of her hand reassuringly, then took her hand in his palm. He stepped forward slightly, shielding her behind him.A single subtle gesture nearly shattered Shu Bai's resolve completely. Her vision swam with swirling darkness, dizziness threatening to topple her. She bit down hard on the tip of her tongue until she tasted blood, advancing step by step with crimson-stained determination. Her gaze remained fixed on Yan Ling as she rasped, "I only ask you one thing—were all these years, every single day and night of our past, nothing but lies?"
Yan Ling's brow furrowed slightly, yet his expression remained composed. Standing bathed in the brilliant lamplight behind him, he appeared like a deity—radiant and majestic, so exalted that all others seemed insignificant as dust before him.
After a long silence, he finally gave a slight nod and uttered a single, faint word: "Yes."
A metallic sweetness surged in Shu Bai's throat as blood welled up. She suppressed it fiercely, swallowing the coppery tide. So it had all been false—not a shred of sincerity in five years of tender affection. This agony rivaled being pierced by ten thousand arrows. Guan Shu Bai no longer wished to speak. Tilting her head toward the sky, she felt only the bitter cold of the night.
"Xiao Bai, if you're willing, you may still remain by my side. I will not mistreat you because of your father's deeds. You shall remain a mistress of this palace, my Noble Consort. I can even elevate your rank—if only you wish it."
Yan Ling's expression softened slightly as he looked at her. Raising his wrist, he extended a slender, pale finger toward her, faint hope flickering in the gesture. Guan Shu Bai laughed coldly, finding his words utterly absurd. With an elegant arch of her brow, she conjured a smile of peerless beauty. "Elevate my rank? What position would Your Majesty grant me? Imperial Noble Consort? Or perhaps... Empress? If I were to become Empress, how would the one standing beside you endure it?"
"If you do not wish to remain in the palace, then leave." Yan Ling's eyes darkened as he spoke impassively. A nearby minister seemed to sense impropriety and moved to advise against it, but Yan Ling stopped him with a gesture. "You once said you disliked the imperial palace. I now grant you freedom."
Without another glance at Guan Shu Bai, Yan Ling turned to leave. "Chang Xi, see her out of the palace."
Chang Xi bowed in acknowledgment and approached with his attendants. Guan Shu Bai's gaze turned icy as she brandished her blade, launching into a suicidal, all-out assault. Chang Xi urgently ordered the guards not to harm her, yet they could not approach her.
Amid the clamor of voices and the shriek of steel, beneath the cold moon and dazzling lights, a forest of blades pointed collectively at the woman who was once the most exalted. Meng Suxin glanced back in terror, watching as Guan Shu Bai fought like one possessed. Though she had lived in seclusion these years, Meng had heard tales of Guan Shu Bai's sharp intellect and brilliance—never imagining she would seek death so recklessly today. Turning to observe the emperor, she saw Yan Ling's cold, unblinking eyes fixed straight ahead, as if deaf to the chaos behind him. Yet his grip on her hand was so forceful it nearly crushed her fingers. This version of him felt unfamiliar, stirring panic within her. When she called to him softly, he seemed not to hear, merely pulling her step by step farther away, ascending the cold marble jade stairs.
"Your Highness! Your Highness! Please go! Do not throw your life away!"Changxi cried out, but she could no longer hear him. Resolved to die, her movements grew increasingly fierce, her blade gleaming like snow as she swiftly wounded several guards. The guards, panicked, drew their swords and charged forward, and blood instantly splattered everywhere.
Changxi was startled and moved to intervene when a sharp whistle sounded behind him, followed by an enraged roar: "Yan Lin! Your life is mine!"
Turning, Changxi saw a flash of blue leap from the crowd of eunuchs, a sword gleaming like a coiling dragon, thrusting straight toward the emperor's face!
"Protect His Majesty!"
"Shield the Emperor!"
Commander Meng turned pale and rushed forward with a shout. Yan Lin frowned, sidestepping the attack, and reached out like a claw to grip the sword's edge. With a crack, he snapped the blade and flung the broken sword back, embedding it in the assassin's chest. The assassin, remarkably tenacious, didn't utter a sound and charged again with the broken sword—this time not at Yan Lin, but straight toward Meng Suxin!
"Ah!" Meng Suxin covered her eyes in terror, collapsing to the ground and screaming, "Your Majesty, save me!"
"Bastard!"
Yan Lin, enraged, swiftly moved to shield Meng Suxin.
At that moment, several more figures leaped from the eunuch ranks, all highly skilled, taking elevated positions on the jade steps to block Commander Meng and the others. Guan Shubai's eyes lit up, and she seized the chaos to dash up the steps, brandishing her blade as she charged at Yan Lin.
Another assassin emerged to attack Meng Suxin. Unable to defend both fronts, Yan Lin suffered a cut on his arm, yet he remained fearless, coldly trading blows with the leader. The assassin grinned ferociously, lunging forward without evading Yan Lin's strikes, and thrust the broken sword with all his might, snarling, "Yan Lin! Die!"
"Your Majesty!"
"Emperor!"
"Consort!"
For a moment, all sounds seemed to freeze. Yan Lin's fingers pierced like blades, brutally tearing through the assassin's chest, leaving a bloody, gaping hole. Yet the assassin appeared oblivious to the pain, not even glancing at his wound, instead staring wide-eyed at the woman shielding the emperor—his broken sword had plunged into her heart, blood gushing out, scalding as it dripped onto his wrist.
The lantern light fell on the assassin's face, revealing none other than the escaped Gu Jin'an. Covered in blood, his brow furrowed tightly, his chest a mangled mess nearly exposing his beating heart, he suddenly stepped back and let out a mocking, maniacal laugh. His blood-soaked hand pointed straight at Yan Lin as he rasped, "After all he's done to you, you still save him?"
With that, he collapsed backward, lifeless.
The broken sword was pulled from Guan Shubai's chest with a spurt of blood. Her body went limp, about to fall, but Yan Lin caught her and held her close.
"Why?"His eyes had darkened into an almost polar night, devoid of any glimmer. Guan Shubai was also stunned—she was no coward. Though resolved to die, she still wished she could kill him with her own hands to vent her fury. When she rushed to him and raised her blade, that thought remained. But when she saw Gu Jin'an's sword thrust toward him, her body seemed to react before her mind could. She stood frozen, limbs trembling, her face as pale as a ghost's. Regret, shame, and fury gripped her throat like a demon's claws. After a long daze, her eyes reddened. She tried to speak but was seized by a violent cough, spraying blood that stained her face. Her voice was faint as she gasped, "How could you... deceive me like this? How could I let you die... by another's hand?"
Yan Ling narrowed his long, sharp eyes fiercely, as if something monstrous were struggling to burst forth, yet he suppressed it violently. His breathing was heavy, his voice deeper and colder than ever, stripped of its usual detachment. "If you hate me, then come and kill me."
Guan Shubai took a deep breath and struck his shoulder with her fist. But her injuries were severe—she had no strength left. Her blows were as soft as cotton, yet with each movement, blood gushed from her wounds. She ignored it, continuing to pound him weakly. Finally realizing it was futile, she mustered her last strength, pulled herself up by his shoulders, and sank her teeth fiercely into the left side of his neck.
She bit with such vicious force that a trail of blood trickled down his neck, disappearing into her cloud-like hair.
At last, she released him, as if even that small effort had drained her completely.
"I'm dying... Yan Ling, I can't kill you anymore."
Her whisper brushed his ear, her lips pale and trembling slightly, reminiscent of their tender kisses over the past five years. A bitter, faint smile lingered on her lips as her wrist went limp, falling onto the cold jade steps.
The square fell into dead silence. For a long time, no one dared to speak. Meng Suxin climbed up from the ground, approached the emperor, and tremblingly touched his sleeve, murmuring, "Your Majesty?"
"I'm fine."
He replied softly, using "I" instead of the royal "We." Meng Suxin lowered her head and retreated a few steps.
The gloomy clouds dispersed, revealing a moon as white and cold as frost, casting its chill glow over the bloodstained palace gates. Final Chapter:
The empty hall stood with wide-open windows, the night sky descending like the vast, dark wings of a roc from the west. A clear pool lay before the hall, its surface reflecting rows of palace lanterns into a brilliant, rainbow-like trail, making the depths of the hall appear even darker, where faces were barely visible. The emperor sat alone, buried in reviewing memorials. The hall was scented with Suhe incense, its faint fragrance scattered by the wind. Usually, Golden Chrysanthemum incense would be burning at this hour, but the emperor had recently declared it too difficult and time-consuming to produce, ordering the imperial household to cease its use. Great Yan had been embroiled in frequent conflicts—the three princes of Huai Song had rebelled. Though the uprising was quelled, it had drained the nation's vitality. The court's finances were strained, and even the emperor had grown stringent with his own provisions.A palace maid entered to serve tea. Seeing the Emperor finally straighten his back and rub his neck, Changxi hurriedly whispered from the side, "It's late, Your Majesty should rest. Her Majesty the Empress's maid came earlier to report that the Empress caught a chill last night and has been unwell since morning, barely eating all day. Would Your Majesty consider paying her a visit?"
The Emperor remained silent for a moment before saying, "We still have memorials to review. Summon the imperial physician to examine the Empress thoroughly, and convey to her that she should rest well. We will visit when time permits."
"Yes," Changxi acknowledged, then fell silent. The hall descended into prolonged stillness, as if devoid of people, with only the mournful rustle of cold wind brushing against crimson maple leaves outside. The Emperor remained bent over his documents, showing no intention of retiring. Having served the previous reign, Changxi observed from this angle how the Emperor resembled his late father—veiled behind layers of lamplight, even his features appeared indistinct.
The hall door creaked slightly open as the young eunuch Fuzi scurried in hunched over, whispering two sentences into Changxi's ear. Changxi waved him away and stepped forward, murmuring, "Your Majesty, the Empress has sent Physician He to take your pulse."
The Emperor didn't even lift his head, as if completely unaware. Gathering courage, Changxi added, "The wound on Your Majesty's neck needs dressing. If left untreated, it may leave a scar."
Moonlight seeped through the window panes veiled with plain gauze, carrying a lingering chill. The teacup gradually cooled, and a palace maid stepped forward to replace it. Changxi exited the Hall of Mental Cultivation, where Imperial Physician He still waited in the corridor. This elderly physician had served the late emperor and possessed a rather stubborn temperament; even Changxi, the chief eunuch of the Hall of Mental Cultivation, dared not offend him. By the time Changxi dismissed him, it was already the third watch of the night, the darkness thick as ink. The emperor finally rose, declaring his intention to visit the Empress’s palace. Changxi wanted to say it was too late and the Empress was likely asleep, but then he thought even if she were awakened, the Empress would surely wish to see the emperor, so he held his tongue.
The palanquin passed through narrow lanes, palace lanterns swaying, casting flickering shadows. The silhouettes of trees on either side appeared vaguely menacing, and roosting crows, startled, fluttered far away into the distance. The night had deepened, and the surroundings grew increasingly quiet. Halfway along the path, the emperor suddenly called for a halt. Guards, eunuchs, and palace maids stood in neat rows, yet no further command came from within the palanquin. Changxi lifted his head and saw, just beyond a single palace wall to the northwest, a vast complex of palaces—pavilions arranged in elegant disorder, magnificent and splendid. Yet not a single light shone there; it was as silent as a massive mausoleum, devoid of any human presence.
That was Cuixin Palace, known as Chulan Palace in the previous dynasty—the residence of the late emperor’s favored consort, Consort Chu. In the current dynasty, only Consort Rong had ever lived there. Both Consort Chu and Consort Rong had once been the emperor’s beloved consorts, yet their fates were regrettably tragic. Newly appointed consorts considered the place inauspicious and were unwilling to reside there. Neither the emperor nor the Empress had issued any directives on how to handle it, so the palace staff had no choice but to seal it off temporarily. Yet in just two months, it had already fallen into such desolation.
"Your Majesty, shall we still proceed to the Empress’s palace?"
Changxi asked. After a long pause, the emperor replied softly, "No, let’s turn back."
The moonlight emerged from behind the clouds, pale and hazy. From the distant Yingge Villa, a faint, ethereal song drifted over, like a wisp of smoke, softly echoing across the lake.
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