Prologue: In Dreams, Unaware That I Am But a Guest

Note: This prologue stands as an independent story, its events belonging to a future timeline. The main narrative begins with Chapter 1—for now, it bears no connection to this prologue.

“What manner of death do you plan to grant me?” Beneath the dim lamplight of the secluded great hall, she braced both hands upon the table, pressing a face blooming with smiles like wind-swept roses straight toward his. “Poisoned wine? White silk? A sack of earth to carry on my back? A gifted blade?”

“What manner of death do you desire?” He poured himself a cup, his movements steady. The clear liquor tilted slightly, reflecting the woman’s hazy eyes… For so many years she had lived shrouded in mist and fog, unwilling to let him see her clearly even unto death.

“However it brings you the swiftest satisfaction, I mean, for you.” She smiled, gently rolling up her sleeves and spreading her palms open before him. “Allow this lowly concubine to serve Your Majesty one final time.”

He smiled faintly, his thin lips curving in a mocking arc as he carelessly handed her the wine vessel.

The wine’s color was jade-green as finest stone, her pale wrists like congealed frost and snow. A thread of deep emerald poured from between slender fingers, falling into the white jade cup with a melodious sound. All around was utterly quiet—brocade curtains and embroidered drapes hung heavily down, cutting off all the clamor of the world beyond.

Including the roaring and slaughter of the rebel army just beyond the palace steps, so very close at hand.

Her rebel army.

Those gunsmoke and blood-scents seemed blocked far away, not entering either person’s ears. In the silence, they carefully sought out and listened to each other’s breathing… calm, peaceful, almost identical in rhythm. Within the curling wisps of fragrant smoke from golden tripods and incense burners, distinctly clear yet entwined unto death.

Gently turning the wine cup in her hands, she asked in a low voice: “Are you not afraid I’ve poisoned it?”

“This hidden hall has remained unsealed for many years, with no one entering.” He spoke lightly. “And this vessel of wine, stored within a concealed compartment, has likewise gone untouched by anyone.”

“As for you…” He calmly took a sip of wine, not continuing further. His gaze swept across like an ice blade, that smile the cold gleam upon the blade’s edge, giving nothing away.

She smiled soundlessly, gazing absently at her own fingers. From the moment she was deceived into entering this secret hall, she had already undergone layer upon layer of thorough searches by the realm’s most knowledgeable poisoner-physicians, the most skilled craftsmen of hidden weapons, the most expert assassins. Forget a single poison pill—even a single strand of hair, if it did not belong to her own body, would have long since been picked out and removed.

Indeed, at this moment, no one could poison him to overturn this situation unfavorable to her.

However…

She smiled shallowly, the corners of her brows and eyes curving up charmingly—surprisingly forming an arch both mischievous and endearing.

“Do you feel a tightness in your chest?” Eyes naturally bearing a watery, hazy quality fixed upon him—behind that mist, her true emotions remained invisible. “Do you feel a stabbing pain in your dantian? Do you feel reverse blood surging upward, rushing backward against your sea of vital energy?”

He too fixed his gaze upon her. His complexion gradually took on a faint greenish tinge.

“This secret hall, since its completion, has indeed been heavily guarded with no one entering.” She paced away several steps with hands clasped behind her back, turning to smile at him. “But what about before its completion?”

He trembled.

That year when the secret hall was first constructed, from blueprint design to palace completion, he had never allowed her to participate. Only after its completion did he bring her inside to take a look.

He still remembered that time—before the Hall of Assembled Excellence, pear blossoms fell like light frost. Her silver skirt hem brushed lightly across the moonlight-bright floor, spinning into a magnificent, brilliant flower. In moonlight and flower shadows, she leaned against a corridor pillar, smiling as she looked back. In that instant, he was struck by her serene smile.

At that time, their affection was at its height.

Could it be that on such an evening filled with drifting pear blossom fragrance, in such tender gazes meeting with smiles, her slender ten fingers had brushed across the concealed compartment beneath the wine vessel, laying down the assassination poison for many years hence?

That smile so gentle and refined, those eyes so charming and lovely, that warmth of walking hand-in-hand beneath falling pear blossoms—were they all, in the end, merely illusory flowers in a dream?

While he had still been immersed in the joy of sharing secrets with her, she had already left behind foreshadowing for their future life-and-death opposition, revealing nothing.

From the very beginning, she had always been his enemy.

He did not know where the pain was, or perhaps there was no pain anywhere—only something shattering like glass, faintly seeming to hear a “crack,” not knowing what had broken.

Their meeting was nothing more than a great dream, both merely passing guests.

Slowly raising his sleeve to cover his lips, a spot of bright red stained the fabric. He wiped it away with a gaze sunken and cold, while she had somehow already turned her back. Her silhouette stood straight and slender. He watched that silhouette, suddenly feeling that there was one question—if he did not ask it now, perhaps he would never have another chance.

“Did you… ever love me?” Just a few short words, asked with such difficulty.

She paused briefly. After a long moment, she turned back, smiling charmingly and prettily, enunciating each word clearly.

“No.”

Within the deep hall, a suffocating silence fell. Outside the tall windows, an autumn begonia blooming in full splendor suddenly withered soundlessly.

“Good.” After a long while, he finally smiled as well. His legendary peerless countenance, smiling now, looked no better than that withered flower.

He no longer looked at her, yet his gaze had already gradually grown heavy and restrained. Suddenly, he clapped his hands lightly.

Just that one crisp, composed sound—within the great hall, its echoes still lingered faintly.

In the distance, a sound like mountains collapsing and seas overturning suddenly roared forth, like ocean waves suddenly rearing up under hurricane winds, thick as walls spanning horizontally before the golden hall, instantly suppressing the steadily approaching sounds of slaughter.

He smiled faintly. Without needing to look, he knew that along those crisscrossing roads, in those palace corners, countless black undercurrents would surge forth after that clap fell. These were his secretly positioned elite forces, who would meet with hundred-forged weapons flashing cold light those rebel troops who dared trample imperial authority and set blood-stained military boots upon jade steps.

Having reached this point, deep affection and sweet intimacy could not withstand this fight to the death. His precious devotion of over twenty years could no longer be used to nourish this poisonous poppy.

Allowing her to scheme and overturn things until today—that was enough.

“Ah, I’ve still lost in the end.” She craned her neck to look outside the hall, her tone relaxed. “What a pity.”

“Yes, a pity indeed.” He coughed lightly, coughing up threads of blood. “You see, even though you left this killing move in place years ago, even though you’ve taken my life, still the Great Cheng Empire you struggled so hard to reclaim is destined to collapse this very day.”

“It doesn’t matter.” She smiled. “To die together with Your Majesty—that itself is my honor.”

He stared at her fixedly. Her smile was gracious as when they first met. He turned his eyes away, his five fingers clenching tight. The jade cup in his palm shattered with a sharp crack.

Through dripping fresh blood, he spoke coldly to the air: “Come.”

From the four corners of the great hall, several shadowy figures immediately materialized like phantoms.

She raised her eyes in a glance, calmly turning around. Her dense, long lashes lowered, concealing the dark and shifting emotions in her eyes.

Those secrets too difficult to speak—let them be buried forever with this body…

She heard his voice behind her, clear and cool, each word cutting gold and severing jade.

“Take her away, imprison her in the dark dungeon. Three days hence…”

He closed his eyes.

“Death by a thousand cuts.”