As Yan Sanhe stepped across the threshold, the new Emperor sat behind his desk, head lowered, looking at something.

This person’s appearance could even be described as bloated. Compared to Crown Prince Zhao Yishi’s impressive bearing, he fell short by more than just a little.

Zhao Yanluo—according to seniority, she should call him Elder Cousin.

Yan Sanhe felt no great fear at this moment.

Master Chanyue used ten years of his life to exchange for her life force, finally achieving perfect merit and transforming into a beam of Buddha’s light to depart on a crane. The Buddha’s light exposed her identity, bringing disaster—such cycles were also karmic cause and effect.

Yan Sanhe stepped forward several paces and knelt to pay respects. “This humble woman Yan Sanhe greets Your Majesty.”

The two behind her knelt on her left and right.

No one told them to rise. Zhao Yanluo seemed immersed in the scroll in his hands, forgetting everything around him.

The hall was so quiet, only the rising and falling sounds of the three people’s breathing could be heard.

Though Yan Sanhe wasn’t afraid for her own life, she was most worried about the two beside her. If it truly came to a life-or-death moment, she thought she must protect them first no matter what.

But what Xie Zhifei was thinking was: since there’s no escape, being able to live and die together with that girl is also good, but no matter what, the Xie family must be extricated and Mingting cleared.

The Xie family raised him for ten years. Except for Xie Daozhi, Mother and Elder Brother and Sister-in-law were all innocent. Mingting even more so.

Pei Mingting was currently in a state of internal struggle between heaven and man.

Really regretted it—at death Young Master was still a virgin;

Would Heaven see that he was a virgin and let him be reborn into a good family in the next life?

If reborn into a good family, could he grow more powerfully built? Then when he met Hero Li again, she might fall for him at first sight, right?

One cup of tea passed, two cups of tea passed. In the enormous palace hall, there was not a sound. Even the air was frozen.

There are many people in the world who remain calm when Mount Tai collapses before them, but that didn’t include the three on the ground.

All three had soft spots.

When cold sweat had soaked through their inner garments, Zhao Yanluo behind the desk finally raised his head.

“All of you raise your heads.”

The three dared not disobey and raised their heads together.

Zhao Yanluo looked at one particular face and deeply furrowed his brow.

Seeing the Emperor frown, Xie Zhifei’s last shred of hope vanished. His face instantly turned deathly pale.

Pei Xiao wailed in his heart: Finished, dead for sure.

But Yan Sanhe’s mind inexplicably conjured an image—an elegant man holding a carving knife, stroke by stroke carving the characters “Tao Tao” on white jade.

His two eyebrows stretched peacefully. It seemed that neither mountains and rivers for thousands of miles nor achievements for ten thousand generations were as important as the square of white jade before his eyes.

A trace of relief arose in her heart.

Fortunately, in the end, it wasn’t him sitting on the dragon throne. If it had been, those two eyebrows of his probably couldn’t have relaxed even in death.

Thinking of this, Yan Sanhe gathered her courage, straightened her chest: “Your Majesty summoned this humble woman here. I wonder what important matter requires attention?”

Humble woman?

Zhao Yanluo looked at her, unblinking, a silent cold smile.

This cold smile made Yan Sanhe’s eyelashes tremble.

Man is the blade, I am the fish.

At this point, she finally experienced firsthand why he would rather die than risk rebellion.

It was because he didn’t want to be this fish on the chopping block, with life and death controlled by those above, unable to control even half of it himself.

“This is his last bit of pride. I am his only living daughter.”

After saying this sentence to herself in her heart, Yan Sanhe spoke firmly.

“I am but a lone orphan, neither committing crimes nor breaking laws. I dare ask Your Majesty, why the cold smile?”

Zhao Yanluo still didn’t speak. His fat fingers tapped on the desk one by one, as if he were the King of Hell in the underworld—with each tap of his finger, determining a mortal’s life or death.

The long silence was like a dull knife cutting flesh, slicing away bit by bit at the courage Yan Sanhe had finally mustered.

She finally discovered that having a righteous backbone alone wasn’t enough—she lacked the capital to confront those in power.

Under imperial authority, she was merely an ant.

The subtle expressions on Yan Sanhe’s face couldn’t escape the lofty Zhao Yanluo. When he saw a trace of panic flash through her eyes, he finally spoke.

“You ask why?”

Four words—Yan Sanhe turned them over in her heart several times before answering:

“This humble woman does not know.”

“What a ‘humble woman does not know.'”

Zhao Yanluo’s expression was gloomy, his voice cold: “Do you know how to write the character for ‘death’?”

As the words fell, the three bodies trembled simultaneously.

Young Master Pei even felt a chill on his neck, frightened to the point of prostrating himself on the ground.

Yan Sanhe’s peripheral vision caught this, and her eyes welled up with some red light.

No wonder everyone in the Zhao family had to fight for that position—that position was the master of all under heaven. Even copying out a family and exterminating a clan required saying “thunder, rain, and dew are all the Emperor’s grace.”

“In its earliest form, ‘death’ depicted a living person kneeling beside dry bones. Later, in small seal script, it was standardized to write as ‘death.'”

Her voice carried indescribable sorrow.

“‘Death’ means ‘to disperse’—what a person leaves behind. It means vital energy is exhausted, the person’s physical form and soul separate, signifying the end of life.

Death and life cannot be reconciled, hence it also extends to mean irreconcilable, as in ‘mortal enemy,’ ‘sworn enemy,’ ‘you die or I live.'”

“You missed one more point.”

A flash of cold light passed through Zhao Yanluo’s eyes as he enunciated each word: “Death can also express a road blocked, as in ‘dead end.'”

The cold sweat in her palms immediately emerged again. Yan Sanhe’s face turned pale without a trace of blood.

She thought deeply for a long while and decided to abandon any elaborate schemes, because no matter how precisely she calculated, there was no way to outmaneuver an emperor’s heart set on killing her.

She could only leave it to fate!

“When I was small, I climbed mountains every day with the grandfather who raised me. Sometimes when fog covered the mountain, we’d lose our way. Climbing and climbing, we’d reach a cliff’s edge.

The first time I reached a cliff’s edge, I was so anxious tears fell. I asked Grandfather what we should do.”

She closed her eyes, then opened them again.

“Grandfather pointed behind us and smiled: ‘When there’s no path ahead, there’s a path behind. At worst, we just retreat.'”

Zhao Yanluo’s gaze coldly pressed: “How far back can you retreat?”

“High mountains, forest depths, grasslands, lakes, the great sea… where can we not retreat to?”

Yan Sanhe met the emperor’s cold, stern gaze and suddenly sighed.

“My grandfather also said: ‘Child, don’t be obsessive. We can’t have everything; but don’t lose heart either—we can’t have nothing. Heaven is watching!'”

When she said this, her face held a smile, her words carrying a hint of mockery. Seeing this, Zhao Yanluo was slightly stunned.

How familiar this expression was!

Once upon a time, that person also used such an understated expression while speaking earth-shattering coded words.

Zhao Yanluo’s gaze remained ice-cold. “From what you say, your grandfather was quite a sensible person.”

Yan Sanhe didn’t like the words “quite sensible.” These two words insulted Yan Xing’s lifelong integrity.

Her voice carried some grief and indignation.

“My grandfather wasn’t sensible at all. Precisely because he wasn’t sensible, he was demoted to a barbarous land. But he never regretted it. He often said: ‘In the heights of the temple, there are dangerous winds; in the distance of rivers and lakes, there is freedom.'”

Zhao Yanluo looked at her, staring without blinking, complex emotions surging in his eyes.

After a long while, he suddenly called out: “Sun Jinzhong?”

Sun Jinzhong ran from outside all the way to the Emperor’s side. “Your Majesty?”

Zhao Yanluo raised his hand. Sun Jinzhong quickly helped him up forcefully and handed over the dragon staff from the side.

Zhao Yanluo leaned on the dragon staff and walked toward Yan Sanhe step by step, extremely slowly.

Under the emperor’s pressure, Yan Sanhe could only bow down.

He walked near, stopped, lowered his head, his voice indifferent: “Your grandfather’s words were wrong. In the heights of the temple, there are evil winds; in the distance of rivers and lakes, there is life.”

Yan Sanhe raised her head in disbelief. Zhao Yanluo had already turned around, walking toward the inner hall.

He still walked very slowly. Each time the dragon staff tapped the ground, it was like striking Yan Sanhe’s heart, making her and the two beside her break out in cold sweat.

Pei Xiao looked at Xie Zhifei with trembling eyeballs: What does it mean? His Majesty spared Yan Sanhe?

Xie Zhifei’s pale face showed the ashen gray of having survived a disaster. He nodded silently.

Oh my Buddha!

Tears slid down Pei Xiao’s face as he collapsed onto the ground, extending his arm to nudge Yan Sanhe.

Divine Woman, we don’t need to rush to be reincarnated! We’re saved! Finally saved!

Yan Sanhe was completely unaware. Her astonished gaze remained fixed on that bright yellow figure.

Why spare her?

Because she was female?

Or because of those few sentences she said borrowing Grandfather Yan’s voice?

That shouldn’t be!