“Coming home…”

Compared to Wenren Lin’s confused state of complete irrationality during the day, Zhao Yān preferred his clear-minded self with a heart full of dark schemes to lure people in.

She could no longer suppress the fear in her heart. Kneeling on the bed, she reached out and wrapped her arms around Wenren Lin’s neck.

Wenren Lin steadied her, closing his arms around her as well, burying the tip of his nose in the hollow of her shoulder, embracing her tightly until they were pressed together without the slightest gap, drawing in each other’s scent.

Zhao Yān smelled the cool bitterness of medicine, as well as his cautious, trembling breath by her ear—a breath that seemed both painful and joyful.

All emotions were released in this embrace. Zhao Yān’s tears flowed again, one by one, falling onto Wenren Lin’s shoulder.

Wenren Lin gently rubbed the back of her head, seeming to sigh lightly: “Your Highness crying like this—I don’t know how many lifetimes I would need to repay this debt.”

Zhao Yān wiped the corner of her eye and cupped Wenren Lin’s face.

Her eyelashes were still wet, but her expression was very serious: “I rarely cry. Since I can remember, I’ve only cried twice for Zhao Yǎn. You can see that you are just as important to me as he was. Get better quickly, alright?”

“Equally… important?”

Wenren Lin let out a soft laugh, suppressing the bone-chilling pain. “How could that be enough?”

…

…

“Does it hurt badly?” Zhao Yān noticed his momentary pause in breathing.

“If Your Highness holds me tighter, it doesn’t hurt as much.”

Wenren Lin raised his hand to look at the tightly bandaged wounds on his waist and arms, letting out a self-mocking sneer. “Looking like this—truly unsightly.”

“You have many sword and arrow wounds on your body. Don’t move around.”

Zhao Yān pressed down on his hand.

Physician Sun had said that once his consciousness returned, it meant the sense of pain would return as well, making him especially uncomfortable.

“Are you afraid?”

Wenren Lin gazed at her. “I haven’t been this disheveled for a long time.”

During the period when he couldn’t control his madness, his consciousness was like being trapped in a swamp, only hearing the little Princess’s voice coming through the black void.

He knew this episode of poisoning was different from before. He didn’t know if next time he would completely lose his senses and no longer hear her guidance, destroying everything in his confused state.

But Zhao Yān just shook her head and said firmly: “You’re just ill. Being vulnerable occasionally is nothing to be ashamed of. Wenren Shao Yuan, no matter how many times you fall into chaos, I will awaken you. Just as you saved me from difficulties countless times before, this time it’s my turn to take care of you.”

Their foreheads touched. Wenren Lin slowly laughed, his eyes half-lowered as he said, “Alright.”

Zhang Cang, noticing movement in the room, knocked on the door and ordered someone to bring in warmed porridge and food.

“The kitchen has stewed an old hen, and there’s some clear soup with blood tofu. My Lord, you should eat more to recover quickly!”

Zhang Cang swiftly arranged the bowls and dishes, personally handing the spoon to Wenren Lin.

Wenren Lin gave him a bland look, hinting: “I have no strength.”

“What? That’s right, my Lord was covered in wounds when he charged out of the enemy camp, and then suffered for the past few days. You must be quite weak.”

Zhang Cang personally ladled a bowl of porridge, attentively saying, “This humble servant will attend to my Lord.”

“Ahem! Ahem!” Cai Tian coughed forcefully from the side.

Wenren Lin raised his eyes to look at Zhang Cang, the cold smile on his face making one’s heart tremble.

Zhang Cang glanced at Zhao Yān, who sat cross-legged on the bed wrapped in blankets, smiling while resting her chin on her hand. His mind finally seemed to grasp the situation, and he awkwardly put down the porridge bowl, saying: “This humble servant needs to relieve himself.”

With that, he stiffly walked out with large strides.

Cai Tian also showed his discernment by cupping his fists: “This humble servant will leave as well.”

With all the unnecessary people gone, Zhao Yān raised her eyebrows and asked Wenren Lin, “You have no strength?”

“Looking at his face, I truly couldn’t eat anything.”

Wenren Lin gave a hoarse cough, his features bewitchingly beautiful. “Looking at Your Highness—now that’s a feast for the eyes.”

Zhao Yān couldn’t help but curl up the corners of her mouth. She moved on her knees past Wenren Lin, took the porridge bowl from the bedside table, stirred it with the porcelain spoon, and brought it to Wenren Lin’s lips.

Wenren Lin touched it with his lips and slightly furrowed his brow.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s a bit bland.”

“Is it?”

Zhao Yān suspiciously took a spoonful into her mouth, tasted it, and swallowed. “It’s not bland.”

Just as she was about to ask if Wenren Lin’s poisoning had damaged his sense of taste, she saw him smiling as he leaned against the head of the bed, using his cold fingers to gently wipe away the porridge at the corner of her lips, saying, “Eat more.”

She had come on a long journey and certainly hadn’t eaten properly—her jaw had grown sharper.

Understanding Wenren Lin’s meaning, Zhao Yān felt a surge of emotion in her nose and ladled another bowl to cover it up.

She took a deep breath and, as she turned her head, her face broke into a smile. She said lightly, “Let’s eat together.”

In the courtyard, the waning moon descended in the west, casting fragmented shadows on a vat of sleeping lotuses before the steps.

“The year I was first assigned to my Lord, the first time I witnessed his poisonous attack, his strength was enough to crush my wristbone. But now in Princess Changfeng’s presence—”

Zhang Cang sat on the steps, holding his sword as he looked back at the brightly lit window. He clicked his tongue and said, “Our Lord is really like a basin holding rice—quite the actor!”

Cai Tian: “…”

…

The sky was just beginning to brighten when Zhao Yān was awakened by the sound of war drums.

She hurriedly sat up to find the spot beside her on the bed empty.

Wenren Lin was standing before the sandalwood rack, using a cotton cloth to wipe the dried blood from his armor. Seeing Zhao Yān get out of bed barefoot, he softened his voice: “It’s still early. Go back to sleep for a while.”

How could Zhao Yān possibly sleep now?

“What’s happening?” she asked.

“He Hu is leading eighty thousand Shu soldiers outside the city gate, demanding battle and vowing to avenge the King of Shu.”

Wenren Lin casually tossed the blood-soaked cotton cloth into a basin, watching as the clear water gradually turned a glaring red. He smiled sardonically and said, “He even claims that I have gone mad, and that no one in the imperial army would dare to meet him in battle.”

He Hu?

Zhao Yān remembered this name. During the amnesty negotiations at the Winter Festival two years ago, it was this man who represented Zhao Yuan’yu, then the Governor of Liangzhou, in talks with the court. He had been quite fierce.

His sudden return attack probably meant he had received information from someone, trying to shake the morale of the Great Xuan army.

The solution was simple: Wenren Lin needed to personally appear to intimidate them.

“I’ll accompany you to battle.”

Zhao Yān rose and put on her clothes. “Don’t worry, I won’t put myself in danger, but I need to watch over you from a distance.”

Upon ascending the arrow tower, they indeed saw troops like dark clouds pressing toward the Western Capital from outside the city.

The person leading the charge was none other than He Hu.

Wenren Lin, clad in dark armor, ascended the city tower. The soldiers defending the city instantly regained their confidence, their morale boosted.

“You treacherous lot who use the Emperor to command the nobles, you killed my lord and blocked our path to save the Emperor—utterly shameless!”

He Hu rode his horse at the front of the formation, his voice booming like thunder. “Wenren Lin, you mad dying dog, come out and let your grandpa send you on your way!”

Faced with He Hu’s provocation, Wenren Lin did not waste a single word. The darkness in his eyes gradually deepened as he raised his hand to signal Zhang Cang: “Bring me my longbow.”

The seven-stone-strength great bow had limbs as black as ink and a string like golden thread.

On the city wall, banners fluttered in the wind. Without warning, Wenren Lin bent the bow and nocked an arrow. He drew the string into a full moon, extended his arm straight, and released.

The arrow shot forth like lightning, striking He Hu directly in the chest armor as he sat on his horse at the front.

He Hu fell from his horse with a cry. The enemy formation instantly fell into chaos, with several personal guards hurriedly dragging the mortally wounded He Hu back into their ranks.

How could a madman at death’s door display such force and accuracy?!

The enemy troops were in disarray for a moment before turning to retreat.

Wenren Lin did not follow the nonsensical rule of “fighting for three hundred rounds.” Not bothering to delay even a quarter hour, he raised his hand and said coldly: “Pursue them. Capture the rebel generals of Shu. Dead or alive, there will be great rewards.”

With these words, the Great Xuan soldiers’ morale soared as they shouted and pursued the rebel army.

As Wenren Lin came down from the arrow tower, his steps faltered imperceptibly. Zhao Yān moved forward without drawing attention, pretending to help him up while supporting his arm.

The city gates only opened again at sunset. In this battle, thirty thousand rebel troops had surrendered, two rebel generals had been captured alive—a complete victory.

Zhao Yān took the medicinal soup handed to her by Zhang Cang, composed herself, and then pushed open the door. She smiled and asked Wenren Lin, who was washing his hands in the lamplight: “Can we truly go home this time?”

What answered her was several suppressed, low coughs.

Her heart trembled as she suddenly looked up to see Wenren Lin release the hand covering his mouth, gazing impassively at the dark red liquid flowing between his fingers as he frowned slightly.

“Wenren Shao Yuan…”

“Your Highness, please leave first.”

As he spoke, Wenren Lin coughed up an even larger mouthful of fresh blood. Throughout, his face remained calm and undisturbed.

Zhao Yān hadn’t expected his poisoning to have reached such a serious stage. The medicine had suppressed it for less than two days before it flared up again.

“Don’t come closer. Be good.”

Wenren Lin’s eyes grew cloudy as he skillfully clasped the iron shackles around his wrists, his voice low, hoarse, yet gentle.

“Alright, I won’t come closer. Don’t hurt yourself.”

Knowing he shouldn’t be further agitated, Zhao Yān slowly backed out of the room.

“Bring the medicine! Quickly summon Physician Sun!”

Cai Tian and Zhang Cang arrived at the news, shouting sternly.

As the door closed before her eyes, amid the trembling sound of chains, Zhao Yān heard the shattering sound of things being knocked over.

The arrow tower was bright with bonfires. The soldiers were all drinking and celebrating, while the city’s residents brought melons, fruits, rice, and meat to reward the Great Xuan soldiers.

Listening to the distant sounds of celebration, Zhao Yān sat on the steps, slowly embracing her knees as if chilled.

How could there be such a vicious poison in this world? What had gone wrong?

Was there truly no antidote left in the world?

Zhao Yān closed her eyes and took deep breaths amid the constriction of unshed tears, trying as usual to find a glimmer of hope in this desperate situation…

Yet despite racking her brain, she came up empty.

Priest Shen Guang was dead, Concubine Zhen was dead, both the medicine base and prescription had been destroyed. Physician Sun was skilled in medicine but not in poisons. Despite his best efforts, he could only suppress the poison momentarily. Zhao Yān didn’t know how many more full-blown poison attacks Wenren Lin’s body could endure…

If only she had been more meticulous in her thinking, more skilled in her abilities, she could have captured Concubine Zhen and questioned her thoroughly. Perhaps then they wouldn’t have reached such a desperate situation.

Wait, Concubine Zhen…

A thought struck her, causing Zhao Yān’s eyelashes to tremble suddenly.

“The Emperor commanded me to destroy all antidote prescriptions and medicine bases. There is no antidote left in the world…”

Indeed, at the watchtower of Jiaping Granary, Concubine Zhen had inadvertently mentioned an antidote prescription.

So, besides these pills, there should be a prescription for a complete cure!

Grasping that fleeting spark of inspiration, Zhao Yān stood up abruptly, her heart pounding rapidly as if it had come alive.

The Emperor both feared and relied on Wenren Lin—he wouldn’t fail to leave himself a way out.

Zhao Yān pressed her fingertips against her temples, forcing herself to adopt the Emperor’s suspicious and cautious perspective to guess his possible thoughts: if the “Priest” had an antidote prescription, with the Emperor’s nature, he would certainly want to keep a copy firmly in his own hands to feel secure.

He was a monarch well-versed in military strategy. This prescription was his final trump card. He wouldn’t be foolish enough to destroy all his pieces in a fit of anger.

Even if there was only the slightest possibility, Zhao Yān felt she had glimpsed a ray of light.

She remembered Liu Baiwei’s pigeons that could fly a thousand li in a day. Without looking back, she went to the council hall and ordered Liu Ying to prepare ink.

Her brush moved like dragons and snakes as she quickly wrote urgent confidential letters, placing them one by one into the small bamboo tubes attached to the pigeons’ legs before releasing them. To ensure the message would be delivered promptly, she released three carrier pigeons.

At midnight, the terrifying sounds from the room finally ceased.

Zhao Yān pushed open the door to find everything in disarray. Almost nothing remained in its proper place—the floor was a mess with not a single intact item to be found.

Zhang Cang wiped the blood from his hands and rubbed his face, saying: “Princess Changfeng, why don’t you go rest? His Lordship has just fallen asleep. This room… this room is too chaotic. This humble servant must order someone to clean it up.”

“It’s fine. I just want to say something to him.”

Zhao Yān calmly stepped over the debris on the floor, her shoes crushing broken porcelain, as if crossing through thorns.

She picked up the damp silk cloth placed beside the bed and gently wiped away the dark stains on Wenren Lin’s eyelashes, whispering in his ear: “Grand Tutor, I want to take one more gamble. You must wait for me.”

After speaking, she lowered her eyes and pressed a kiss to his cool, thin lips.

Wenren Lin’s pale fingers twitched slightly, as if in response.

In the Imperial City, at Changsheng Palace.

Since writing the edict acknowledging his faults and announcing it to the world, the Emperor had moved from Taiji Hall to Changsheng Palace and no longer concerned himself with court affairs.

Empress Wei’s phoenix robe was heavy as she gestured to Liu Baiwei and Huo Zhenzhen, who had come to deliver the message: “This Palace has already understood the general situation. Forcing the Emperor is not a good reputation to have. You are still young and need not enter.”

Liu Baiwei did not care about reputation, but he knew clearly that as merely a prince’s grandson, he was far from having enough stature to question the Emperor.

“Hey, do you think the Empress will get what she wants?”

At the palace gate, Huo Zhenzhen kicked at the hem of her skirt and asked, “That thing must be very important to Zhao Yān.”

“Yes, very important.”

Liu Baiwei cast his gaze toward the light and shadow behind the clouds, as if trying to look to a place very far away, then smiled to himself—whether in resignation or self-mockery, it was hard to tell.

“Don’t worry. If the thing still exists, the Empress will certainly obtain it.”

After all, this Empress was no longer the woman who once endured humiliation and couldn’t even protect her child.

Inside the sleeping chamber of Changsheng Palace, the Emperor’s temples were streaked with white. His hair was disheveled as he leaned against the dragon couch, tilting his head to sip the medicinal soup offered by Eunuch Feng.

His hands shook severely, and half his face was paralyzed. Most of the medicine spilled out, flowing from the corner of his mouth and down his jaw into his collar. Eunuch Feng hurriedly raised his sleeve to wipe it, calling out tearfully, “Your Majesty, my master!”

Seeing the Empress entering the hall in her phoenix robe, the Emperor’s eyes flashed with hatred as he waved his hand, knocking away the medicine bowl.

Eunuch Feng quickly knelt to clean up the mess, but the Emperor ignored him, shakily pointing at the Empress: “Poisonous woman, you still dare to come here? My current state is all thanks to you and your son!”

Empress Wei looked at him impassively: “Your Majesty is mistaken. Your Majesty’s pitiful state is due to your own suspicious and obstinate nature, suffering the backlash of the golden elixir poison—you are reaping what you’ve sown.”

The Emperor let out a mocking laugh: “You forced me to admit my faults to the world, showing no respect for your sovereign or father. What more do you want? Have you come to laugh at me?”

“I’ve come for one thing.”

Empress Wei moved closer. “The antidote for the Frost Bone Poison.”

The Emperor’s eyes flickered slightly. He slowly leaned back against the bed, the corner of his mouth twisting into a stiff, strange arc: “There is no such thing.”

He visibly relaxed his body, like an injured old wolf suddenly biting into a piece of meat, contempt lurking in his eyes.

Empress Wei knew then that her daughter’s guess was correct—this old fox indeed still held a trump card.

“Your Majesty should accumulate some virtue. With such behavior, aren’t you afraid that soon after entering the Yellow Springs and purgatory, you’ll be torn apart by ten thousand vengeful souls?”

“Silence!”

The Emperor had been struck in a vulnerable spot. “At this point, do you think there’s anything that can threaten me?”

“Of course there is.”

Empress Wei clapped her hands, and immediately a wet nurse came forward carrying a crying infant. “Your Majesty’s flesh and blood.”

The Emperor’s liver and gallbladder nearly split with rage. If he weren’t bedridden from his stroke, he would have rushed over to strangle this poisonous woman!

“What do you intend to do?”

The Emperor emitted broken, hoarse sounds, asking through gritted teeth, “Do you still want to harm my son?!”

Empress Wei smiled coldly: “This Palace wouldn’t be the first to kill your son. How did Yǎn die? Has Your Majesty forgotten?”

“You… you’re completely heartless!”

The Emperor stretched out his hand from the bed, looking both pathetic and frenzied. “Seize her! Have you all rebelled?”

Inside and outside the great hall, there was peaceful silence. Not a single person heeded him. Now, he was worse off than a defeated dog.

The Emperor panted like an ox, his eyeballs bloodshot, his fingers almost tearing the bedding apart.

Indeed, he had kept a copy of the antidote prescription. He was accustomed to holding all his cards in his grasp. If Wenren Lin had remained loyal and submissive to him, he naturally would have been willing to spare his life. But now, how could he be willing?

He would rather let that prescription never see the light of day than give it to a treacherous minister who had turned against him!

The sharp cries of his youngest son pierced the air. The Emperor stared with bulging eyes, as if struggling against an invisible enemy.

Into this frozen deadlock suddenly burst a figure with loosened hairpins and disheveled clothes.

Consort Xu, desperate to protect her child, knelt beside Empress Wei and crawled forward, tugging at the hem of the phoenix robe and begging: “There is a secret passage beneath the statue of the Daoist Lord in Zhaixing Observatory! I once saw His Majesty and Concubine Zhen open it from a distance! Though I don’t know what the Empress is looking for, all the things His Majesty wants to suppress or hide are in that mechanism. I beg the Empress to spare the little prince!”

The Emperor’s face changed dramatically. He began to cough and gasp painfully, cursing “foolish woman” several times before collapsing weakly.

Empress Wei did not hesitate, instructing the imperial guards: “Go to Zhaixing Observatory.”

The collapsed Zhaixing Observatory was still just a pile of half-finished waste wood, but the statue of the Daoist Lord carved in the Emperor’s own likeness had been kept extremely clean, showcasing a dream of eternal life that refused to wake.

Following instructions, Empress Wei found the protruding mechanism stone and pressed it forcefully. The statue rotated open, revealing a shallow secret passage.

At the bottom of the passage, iron chains crisscrossed, pasted with bright yellow talismans—an array for suppressing spirits.

At the center of the array lay the dagger with which Wenren Lin’s father had made a blood oath with the young Emperor, along with a box of antidote and a yellowed prescription paper.

…

Wenren Lin had been unconscious for three days, and he had persevered for three days.

His will to live was admired even by Physician Sun, who was accustomed to life and death situations.

It should be known that just two years ago, this young man was still carrying dark hatred, deceiving everyone, with no desire to live.

On the day they broke camp to return to the capital, an urgent confidential letter was delivered to the administrative office in the Western Capital.

Zhao Yān opened it with trembling hands. Upon seeing the yellowed prescription and the true antidote pills, she could not help but redden her eyes.

Zhao Yān handed both the prescription and the antidote to Physician Sun. After confirming their authenticity, her tightly strung heartstrings finally relaxed completely, and the forcefully suppressed fatigue washed over her entire body.

No longer able to hold on, she went limp and consciousness plunged into darkness.

Zhao Yān slept soundly and deeply, as if making up for all the sleep she had missed in the past few days.

When she woke again, she found herself in a spacious carriage, her head pillowed on someone’s warm, firm thigh, covered with a large dark cloak.

“Awake?”

The familiar, steady voice came from above her head. Zhao Yān slowly turned to see the man’s deep, dark eyes filled with smiling waves. She was stunned for a moment.

“Wenren… Shao Yuan?”

She reached out to touch Wenren Lin’s cheek—so firm and warm, no longer the icy, pale coldness from before.

“I am here.”

Wenren Lin responded in a deep voice, catching Zhao Yān’s hand and placing a kiss on it. “We’re home, Your Highness.”