“I won’t let them off!” Qing Xia’s brows furrowed tightly, her eyes almost shooting fire as she said through gritted teeth, “I want those who gloat over others’ misfortunes, those who refuse to save the dying, those who add fuel to the fire, those culprits who caused all this—I want them to pay blood for blood!”
As soon as she finished speaking, Qing Xia’s tears rolled down continuously. She turned and entered Qin Zhiyan’s bedchamber, pressing herself tightly against the closed door, letting her tears flow torrentially as her heart felt pierced by countless steel needles.
So what if they paid blood for blood? If something really happened to him, even if she burned the entire world to ashes, what good would it do? She suddenly knelt on the cold ground, covering her face with both hands, crying heartbrokenly with a low, hoarse voice like a desperate wild beast.
The entire night, she stayed by his side without moving an inch, gripping his hand tightly as if the slightest relaxation would make him disappear. Enormous weight and pain pressed on her heart, making it impossible for her to breathe. Her hand gently caressed his clear and clean facial features, repeatedly recalling every tiny detail from when they first met, her small heart containing not a shadow of gloom.
Qin Zhiyan’s expression was peaceful, showing no sign of injury or illness, as if he were simply sleeping.
Qing Xia pressed her face against his cold forehead, her throat already hoarse from crying. Her voice was soft, slowly drifting in the warm air with a trace of unreal desolation.
“Zhiyan, please wake up.”
The pale woman spoke softly, her vision gradually becoming misty, even the air beginning to grow moist. “Every time you sleep like this, I’m terrified—afraid you’ll never open your eyes to look at me again, never tap my nose and say I’m naughty, never embrace me tenderly, never wake up again. Zhiyan, we’ve endured every hardship together—in the imperial mausoleum, at Bailu Plain, in Penglai Valley. So many dangers, so many life-and-death trials, we’ve overcome them all. How can you collapse now? You’re Great Qin’s war god, an invincible general, a myth of victory in every battle. How can you die on a sickbed? You promised to always accompany me, you promised to always take care of me, you promised to give me a peaceful life, to let me smile happily and simply. But if you die, if you’re gone, how can I go on living? How can I smile?”
Tears slowly flowed down as Qing Xia’s voice became low and hoarse, like a shattered bottle.
“Zhiyan, I always thought I was strong. I always thought I could face any difficulty alone. But now I realize I’m not strong at all—without you, I’m nothing. I’m afraid of the dark, afraid of cold, afraid of illness, afraid of being poor, afraid of no one caring for me, afraid of no one cherishing me. I like having you by my side—no matter what I do, you always clean up after me. I like how you discipline those old women who bully me. I like how you shield me when the wind blows. I like how you hold my hand in front of your brothers and father. Zhiyan, if you’re gone, what should I do? In this space-time that doesn’t belong to me, how should I live? I have no home, no family—where would you have me go?”
Finally unable to suppress her sobs, Qing Xia gripped Qin Zhiyan’s hand tightly, crying and choking as she said, “Qin Zhiyan, get up! We’re about to be married, I’m about to marry you. You can’t abandon me like this, you can’t break your word. How can you be so cruel as to make me fall in love with you without reservation, then kick me aside? I want to follow you—wherever you go, please take me with you. Don’t leave me alone here. Zhiyan, open your eyes and look at me. I’m your Yima’er, I’m your Changsheng, I’m still alive. How can you die first?”
The pain in her heart spread madly, boundless darkness like surging tides swallowing her completely. For a moment, she felt like suffocating, coughing violently as bright red blood emerged from her mouth, spilling onto the blue floral brocade quilt like blooming red plum blossoms. Looking at her own blood, she suddenly laughed, her lips bloody as she smiled, “Zhiyan, I’m dying too. I can come find you, I can accompany you. No one will ever be able to separate us again.”
“No…” A low voice suddenly arose, so weak yet so clear.
In an instant, Qing Xia was like someone struck by lightning, jerking her head up to see Qin Zhiyan frowning tightly. Though his eyes remained closed, he spoke clearly word by word: “Cannot… allow… it!”
“Zhiyan!” Qing Xia threw her arms around his shoulders, calling excitedly, “Zhiyan, you’re awake, you’re better, you won’t die, right?”
“Yima’er…” The weak voice slowly emerged from his pale, bloodless lips. “Cannot… die…”
Tears surged forth as Qing Xia almost stumbled crawling out of the bedchamber door, half-prostrate on the cold stone slabs, shouting hoarsely, “Someone come! Zhiyan is awake! Someone come!”
Another three days and nights of diagnosis nearly exhausted everyone in the prince’s mansion. Qin Zhiyan, who had been pronounced dead several times by the eight witch doctors, awakened miraculously several times at Qing Xia’s call. Finally, on the fourth evening, Witch Doctor Baishi said exhaustedly that in his lifetime he had never seen anyone with such a determined will to live as the Third Prince, then collapsed in relief.
The eight witch doctors used desperate methods to forcibly snatch Qin Zhiyan back from Death’s grasp. With their energy exhausted, they all fell ill simultaneously. For a time, the prince’s mansion almost became a medical clinic with countless Great Qin famous doctors shuttling about.
Qing Xia guarded Qin Zhiyan’s side day and night. He alternated between consciousness and unconsciousness—this condition continued for over twenty days before gradually improving. Seeing Qing Xia’s greatly diminished figure, Qin Zhiyan smiled weakly, but this only drew more tears from her.
This morning, Qin Zhiying came to visit the patient again. During these days, Qing Xia had barred all the Qin family brothers from the door, not allowing visits. Even Qin Zhiyu, that shameless person, didn’t dare come after being refused twice. Only Qin Zhiying repeatedly faced setbacks yet grew more courageous with each defeat. Since Qin Zhiyan had gradually recovered to his normal state and would eventually need to participate in Qin politics, Qing Xia had a change of heart and invited him to the study.
Fragrant tea wafted as they sat facing each other. Qing Xia got straight to the point: “I want to know what happened in Taihe Hall ten years ago.”
When Qin Zhiying entered and saw only Qing Xia present, he knew she had something to say. Hearing this, he smiled slightly: “Actually, it would be more appropriate for Third Brother to tell you.”
“You know he would tell me,” Qing Xia said calmly, “but I want to know now, and his physical condition isn’t yet sufficient to recall this matter. So I hope you can tell me—I would be very grateful.”
Qin Zhiying thought for a long while, then suddenly raised his head: “Do you know why Third Brother has this illness?”
Qing Xia was startled, remembering what the gray-bearded elder in the Yan Character Camp had said: “Is it white witchcraft?”
Qin Zhiying shook his head with a bitter smile: “I can’t say exactly what poison it is. I only know that back then, Third Brother was imprisoned in the imperial mausoleum underground along with the Crown Prince and Second Brother. The Crown Prince and Second Brother came up quickly, but Third Brother waited a month before escaping from the mausoleum and being sent back to Xianyang by the guards. After returning, he fell seriously ill—since then, it’s been life and death so many times I’ve lost count. Throughout history, imperial mausoleums have been places where not a blade of grass grows. Third Brother was small and weak, constantly wandering in the outer eight circles where there were no torches. Do you know what he survived on?”
Hearing this, Qing Xia felt as if she’d fallen into an icy abyss. She no longer wanted to think about it, didn’t even want to ask, yet she still sat firmly in place, listening as Qin Zhiying spoke word by word: “The guards’ scouts said that the burial corpses in the outer eight circles had almost all been consumed by Third Brother.”
“Throughout history, burial servants were all force-fed various deadly poisons to prevent them from damaging the tombs. Third Brother ate their flesh and naturally became severely poisoned. After his return, news slowly spread through the rear palace. Even his birth mother, Noble Consort Yao, feared him, calling him a mad demon and not daring to approach. She sent him to the North Garden to be raised by the matrons. Those old matrons were hardly good people—each one fawned on the powerful and trampled the weak. Third Brother truly lived an inhuman existence in the North Garden for nearly ten years, locked in small dark rooms, having to endure both cold stares and abuse as well as the agony each time the poison flared. If not for his wet nurse’s protection, he might have died long ago.”
“When Third Brother was fourteen, Father went hunting at Huashang Plain. Eighth Brother secretly pushed him out from the North Garden. At that time, he had been tormented by illness for two years and couldn’t walk, still sitting in a wheelchair—how could he possibly ride horses? Father found this disappointing and was very angry, punishing Eighth Brother to kneel before the camp gate for three hours. Eighth Brother was indignant and talked back to Father, who had him whipped over ten times. Second Brother, Fifth Brother and others took turns mocking him. Eighth Brother was only twelve then—unable to bear the provocation, he drew his sword and fought with Fifth Brother. Fifth Brother was Empress Chunyu’s son, the Crown Prince’s younger brother, the Prime Minister’s grandson. Though young, he was already enfeoffed as a prince with over twenty attendants. Eighth Brother was even younger and naturally couldn’t win. But in the end, all of Fifth Brother’s men suffered greatly—each had their left leg pierced by arrows in exactly the same spot. Only later did we learn that Third Brother had intervened seeing Eighth Brother being bullied.”
Qin Zhiying smiled faintly, lacking his usual carefree shrewdness and carrying an indescribable mockery: “After Father learned of this, he was quite pleased. Not only did he not punish Third Brother and Eighth Brother, he actually brought Third Brother out of the North Garden, settled him in Taihua Pavilion right next to the Eastern Palace, enfeoffed him as Prince Xuan, and betrothed General Mu Kan’s daughter to Third Brother as consort. Unfortunately, the good times didn’t last. Within three days, Third Brother disappeared along with Eighth Brother and General Mu Kan’s daughter, Mu Yaoyao. The entire nation was turned upside down searching—we thought it was enemy spies’ doing. Unexpectedly, half a month later at a Taihe Hall family banquet, Third Brother, who had been paralyzed in bed for years, suddenly walked in carrying Eighth Brother on his back, covered in blood. Taking advantage of everyone’s shock, he killed Fifth Brother with one sword thrust, then stood before Eleventh Brother like a death star. No matter how many guards rushed forward, none could approach him. Over twenty died or were injured. Finally, Eleventh Brother went mad and severed his own arm, then collapsed on the ground, barely escaping disaster. He remains insane to this day.”