Thirtieth year of Yuanfeng;

Seventh month, fourteenth day;

As dawn broke, I returned to my residence.

That day, His Majesty still didn’t hold morning court. The four-nine city appeared calm on the surface, with few patrolling soldiers visible on the streets. In reality, tremendous waves surged beneath.

My time was limited. I needed to prepare for what came next.

First, my parents, my clan.

If we succeeded, naturally they would enjoy glory and wealth through me. If we failed, I would be the Chu family’s sinner—the Chu family would surely suffer implication.

I failed my parents, failed my ancestors.

The only fortunate thing: I’d never married in this lifetime, had no children. At least, I hadn’t failed them.

In my letter to my parents, I wrote:

The grace of giving birth, the grace of raising me—if there’s a next life, I’ll repay both together. If there’s no next life, I wish to become a cobblestone on the marketplace street, trod upon by thousands, trampled by ten thousands, only asking that when you two reincarnate, you have a life of peace and joy.

This mortal world is too bitter, being human too bitter. Cobblestones know nothing, feel nothing, yet can pave roads—excellent!

Second, my several close friends.

In one’s life, acquaintances are many, good friends few, close confidants even fewer.

I left each of them a letter.

The last letter was for Jianxi.

Still the same old words: do nothing, don’t even collect my corpse. Each Qingming and Zhongyuan festival, burn me a stack of paper money, pour me several cups of wine—that fulfills our bond as fellow disciples.

The last bit of time, I reserved for Rongyu.

After tonight, history books would have two voices evaluating Rongyu: one, forcing the palace to claim the throne; the other, treasonous minister and rebel son.

The former—even if forcing the palace, history books would only mention it in passing, because by then Heaven’s Way would have stood on his side.

If the latter, I wanted to speak on his behalf.

This uprising was truly unavoidable, entirely arising from the witchcraft dolls.

The witchcraft dolls were found in the small garden of the Crown Prince’s bedchamber. The first to discover them was a man named Gu Aliu.

This person, in his early fifties, was responsible for flowers, grass, and trees in the Eastern Palace.

After discovering the witchcraft dolls, Gu Aliu didn’t report to the Crown Prince to cover it up. Instead, he took the items and silently left the residence, going alone to the Embroidered Uniform Guard to report.

This person must have been a hidden chess piece someone planted in the Eastern Palace, serving to detonate the entire affair.

Besides Gu Aliu, someone else must have buried the witchcraft dolls in the small garden.

Not just anyone could enter the Crown Prince’s bedchamber—those who could were nothing more than consorts and maids serving the Crown Prince.

Among the consorts, Cairen Xia was most suspicious.

This person came to the Crown Prince’s side at age fourteen, climbing step by step from maid to cairen position.

Her ancestral home was Shandong, but her mother was from the Northern Lands.

The Northern Lands were precisely Prince Zhao’s fief.

Besides Cairen Xia, Female Physician Shen was also extremely suspicious.

She was a Shen family member. Due to her outstanding medical skills, she was transferred into the Eastern Palace to treat gynecological ailments for the Crown Princess and various consorts.

Between these two women, one must be an accomplice to the witchcraft case.

Finally, the mastermind behind this case could only be two people.

One was the Crown Prince’s father.

If it was him, it truly fulfilled that saying about no fathers and sons in imperial families—pitiful, sorrowful, lamentable.

The other was the Crown Prince’s fourth younger brother, Prince Zhao.

If it was him, I could only sigh on Rongyu’s behalf: Wolf cub with wild ambitions!

Time was limited. Writing to this point, I should set down my brush, yet I still had a few words I wanted to write—

First, following Rongyu my entire life, I have no regrets;

Second, dying for him, I have no regrets;

Third, if we fail, I hope that someday this manuscript might see daylight again.

This world is like an hourglass.

When the hourglass runs out, when truth is buried deep, when all returns to dust, I hope someone can turn this hourglass over and let the world see this true truth.

Finally.

Three sticks of incense—may the Bodhisattva protect.

Protect my lord Rongyu to live a hundred years!

…

Having read the final character, Yan Sanhe felt only a blur before her eyes.

Touching her face—tears streamed down.

Why?

Her heart ached so terribly, as if countless dense needles pierced it simultaneously.

“Sanhe?” Li Buyan asked with concern.

“I’m fine.”

Yan Sanhe handed the papers to Li Buyan, wiping tears with her sleeve. “Tang Jianxi, may I go outside for some air?”

Tang Jianxi, thinking of how he himself wept with face covered each time he read this manuscript, nodded. “I’ll have Xue Zhao follow you from a distance.”

Yan Sanhe rose, looking down at Zhu Yuanzhao. “You all read the manuscript. Be careful while reading. I’ll return shortly.”

In the mountain’s winter night, aside from wind sounds, no other sounds could be heard.

Yan Sanhe didn’t go far, just standing in the open space before the cave, gazing into the distance.

Wind lifted her jet-black hair, several strands falling before her eyes. Her eyes began feeling hot again.

Chu Yanting, do you know—this so-called uprising to force the palace was truly foolish?

The witchcraft curse wasn’t the killing trap—the uprising was! They were waiting for you to jump in, for complete annihilation.

Why couldn’t you just survive!

Rongyu, what kind of person were you, that Chu Yanting would follow you his entire life, never regretting even unto death?

That someone who’d only met you a few times, Tang Jianxi, would believe in your innocence for over a decade?

Behind her, Xue Zhao watched the young woman’s figure, his eyes holding some confusion.

He didn’t understand why this young woman’s silhouette in the night looked so sorrowful, as if she were currently experiencing family destruction and death.

Yan Sanhe slowly waited for her heart to settle before returning to the cave.

By now, Li Buyan and Zhu Yuanzhao had both finished reading those manuscripts, both hanging their heads in silent daze.

Yan Sanhe returned to her seat, asking Tang Jianxi, “Tell us about what happened after the uprising.”

Tang Jianxi smiled bitterly. “I only know the general outline.”

“Then tell the general outline.”

“Basically all died—either in battle or by suicide. A small portion, cowards who feared death, surrendered.”

Tang Jianxi: “In the Eastern Palace too, blood flowed like rivers. Everyone connected to the Crown Prince was killed by the Crown Princess.”

Yan Sanhe started. “The Crown Princess?”

Tang Jianxi nodded.

“The Crown Princess was an extraordinary woman. As the Crown Prince suffered defeat there, here she ordered all the children, all the harem consorts killed completely. Finally she set a fire and took her own life with a blade.”

Li Buyan listened, heart pounding. “Not one left?”

“Not one left.”

Tang Jianxi sighed. “Reportedly the youngest imperial grandson was only four years old. Also gone.”

Yan Sanhe laughed coldly. “Good that they’re gone. If they’d lived, it would only be suffering.”

“Before suicide, the Crown Princess looked up at heaven and shouted that Heaven’s Way was unjust.”

Tang Jianxi: “Because of this, the former Emperor fell gravely ill. With no alternative, he summoned Prince Zhao back from the distant Northern Lands and ultimately passed the throne to him.”

No alternative?

What were you doing before?

Li Buyan sneered endlessly. “If only he’d stood up and said he believed the Crown Prince, the outcome wouldn’t have become like this. Playing the whore while erecting a memorial arch—disgusting or not?”

These words made Tang Jianxi and Zhu Yuanzhao’s hearts leap.

Such daring words!

—