Xiao Tiancai wanted to stay behind to brew medicine, but Yu Wanyin worried that Xiahou Dan would be anxious, so she left him with Cen Jintian and returned to the palace first.

—Fortunately, she made this decision.

Halfway through the journey, a guard’s voice came from outside the carriage window: “Your Majesty, someone is following us.”

“Is it someone sent by His Majesty?” This was Yu Wanyin’s first reaction.

The guard replied: “No. They have ill intentions. We need to return quickly.”

The carriage suddenly accelerated, rushed forward for a while, then abruptly stopped. Yu Wanyin lunged forward, crashing into the wooden wall of the carriage.

The sound of chaotic fighting came from outside, and the guard hissed: “Assassins!”

Horse neighs echoed. The attackers had cut the carriage shaft during the melee, and the frightened horses galloped away, leaving Yu Wanyin’s carriage surrounded.

The carriage shook violently. Yu Wanyin barely stabilized herself, felt for the gun hidden in her sleeve, and lifted a corner of the curtain to peek outside.

The sky had already darkened, and the commoners on the street had all fled. There were more than ten attackers, disheveled and filthy like ruffians, yet they fought toe-to-toe with the well-trained guards, blocking all her escape routes.

They were targeting her.

She had miscalculated, and her manpower was far from enough. She hadn’t expected the enemy would be so brazen as to murder someone openly on the street.

If she died here, how would Xiahou Dan react?

The guards were outnumbered, and momentarily faltered, allowing someone to bypass their defense and leap onto the carriage. The attacker cut down the coachman, tore off the curtain with a “swish,” jumped onto the carriage, saw Yu Wanyin, and swung his knife at her!

Yu Wanyin’s mind went blank as she reflexively withdrew her hand into her sleeve to grip the gun—

The attacker’s movements seemed to freeze for an instant, his eyeballs turning downward, his gaze following her hand movement—

Yu Wanyin had already drawn the gun and aimed it at his forehead—

At this critical moment, she strangely paused.

Something wasn’t right.

With her pause, the attacker also froze, even halting mid-swing to hold his knife across his chest in an instinctive defensive posture.

Something wasn’t right!

This thought wasn’t fully formed yet, but her physical reaction was faster than her mind as if she had developed a mysterious instinct from numerous brushes with death. Her muscles tensed tightly, forcibly stopping her from pulling the trigger.

The next second, a whooshing sound came, and a bloodied arrowhead protruded from the attacker’s chest.

Yu Wanyin’s gun slid back into her sleeve.

The assassin before her stared at her with bulging eyes, swayed, and fell.

With his fall, there was no longer any obstruction at the carriage door. Still catching her breath, Yu Wanyin saw who was standing outside.

Xiahou Bo, dressed in white, with his hair half-bound, stood gracefully on the street, firmly holding a carved bow. That arrow had been shot by him.

Xiahou Bo also saw who was in the carriage.

She was dressed as a man, empty-handed, with a face pale from fright.

Their eyes met, and with just one glance, Yu Wanyin knew that Prince Duan had seen through her disguise—or rather, he had known it was her even before he acted.

Xiahou Bo spoke calmly: “What reckless brigands dare to disregard royal law and harm people on the street?” He ordered his men, “Arrest them all, and drag that corpse off the carriage. Don’t let this gentleman be frightened.”

His men obeyed, helping Yu Wanyin’s guards, and swiftly dealt with the group of “brigands.” Then they went to the carriage to remove the corpse and respectfully helped Yu Wanyin down.

Yu Wanyin said: “…Thank you for saving me, Prince Duan.”

Xiahou Bo pretended not to recognize her and smiled: “You know who I am? As the saying goes, ‘finish what you start.’ Your carriage is damaged, and it’s getting late. Why not let me give you a ride?”

Oh, so that’s it.

The thought that had flashed like lightning through Yu Wanyin’s mind finally completed itself.

The assassin’s behavior earlier suggested he had anticipated she was hiding a weapon, and even seemed wary of this weapon’s power.

But how could he possibly know she had a gun? The only traces her bullets had left in this world were on Mount Bi, and she had been in disguise at that time…

—Mount Bi.

Who would bother investigating traces on Mount Bi? Even if someone saw the bullet holes, most people would at most suspect Xiahou Dan. Who would think those traces might be related to a palace consort like her?

The answer stood before her, smiling slightly.

Xiahou Bo pointed to his carriage: “This way, sir.”

This was a self-directed and self-performed grand play. Both those trying to kill her and those saving her were Prince Duan’s men.

They didn’t want her life, otherwise they wouldn’t have gone to such lengths—they could have simply killed her and been done with it. If she hadn’t guessed wrong, this entire performance was designed to force her to defend herself, to determine whether she carried a weapon and what secrets it held.

Prince Duan was testing her, and also probing Xiahou Dan’s hidden cards.

But so far, he hadn’t succeeded.

Yu Wanyin smiled: “Then I’ll trouble Your Highness.”

She quickly exchanged a glance with her guards, signaling with her eyes for them not to act rashly, then calmly boarded Prince Duan’s carriage.

The carriage started slowly. Xiahou Bo sat beside Yu Wanyin and asked with a smile: “Where does the gentleman live?”

“Your Highness jests.” Yu Wanyin laid her cards on the table. “Please take Wanyin back to the palace.”

Xiahou Bo also dropped his pretense: “Fortunately, Wanyin wasn’t hurt. Luckily I happened to be nearby and heard the commotion in time.” He looked at her with concern. “The city has been chaotic lately. Why would you leave the palace at such a time?”

Yu Wanyin: “…An official fell ill, and coincidentally, my unmarried younger sister at home cares for him and asked me to check on him. So I used visiting the sick as an excuse to tell His Majesty I wanted to leave the palace. He has been unusually kind to me lately, so he agreed.”

Concealment was useless; if they could track her this far, they could discover where she had been. She could only downplay Cen Jintian in her words.

Xiahou Bo caught the key phrase: “You told him this… but that’s not the case?”

Since earlier, there had been a doubt in Yu Wanyin’s mind: Xiahou Bo could have quickly killed her and searched her corpse for the answers he sought. But he had preferred to betray several of his men rather than harm her.

What had just happened occurred in the middle of the street and took so much time that Xiahou Dan must have heard about it by now, and might have already sent people after her. This carriage was so conspicuous that it would be nearly impossible to secretly take her elsewhere. So, was Xiahou Bo planning to return her to the palace unharmed?

Why?

If Yu Wanyin didn’t understand Xiahou Bo’s true nature, it would be hard not to misinterpret his tender gaze.

But she knew too well what kind of old dog he was.

First, she ruled out the possibility that he had genuine feelings for her.

She quickly analyzed in her mind: whenever she and Xiahou Dan stepped outside their chamber doors, they consistently performed the drama of a husband desperately chasing his wife. Xiahou Dan was often forbearing, while she remained aloof. This meant that in the eyes of ordinary palace servants, their relationship wasn’t that close.

The interior of their chambers had undergone numerous purges, and those who remained wouldn’t leak secrets.

If Xiahou Bo truly knew how much her “divine eye” had helped Xiahou Dan, would he go to such lengths to test her?

So, he didn’t know. He might even still be hoping to win her over.

Thinking of this, Yu Wanyin slowly revealed a worried expression: “Actually, I just couldn’t stay in the palace anymore. I wanted to come out to scout routes, preparing to find an opportunity to escape the city in the future.”

Xiahou Bo slightly raised his eyebrows: “Isn’t His Majesty your beloved?”

Yu Wanyin smiled bitterly: “Does he love me, or my occasionally effective divine eye? Your Highness surely understands. When gods fight, we mortals suffer. At this point, I have no hopes for love; I only wish to escape this dragon’s pool and tiger’s den to live out the rest of my life in peace.”

Xiahou Bo looked at her in surprise: “I understand?” A flash of anger crossed his eyes. “I am not like him. Wanyin, if you’re so afraid, why have you never sought me out?”

Yu Wanyin: “…”

That incorrect option peeked out tentatively, only to be heavily crossed out again.

His acting skills would win an Academy Award in modern times. One wonders who would win if Xiahou Dan were to act opposite him.

Xiahou Dan… what was Xiahou Dan doing now? Would he lose his patience and send people to intercept Prince Duan’s carriage? The current situation was as precarious as eggs piled high, where any spark could prematurely ignite the flames of war, and they hadn’t yet completed their preparations…

Yu Wanyin pinched her palm with her fingertip. She needed to keep Xiahou Bo steady.

She closed her eyes briefly, diligently summoning her lifetime of acting skills before this master actor, and said with deep melancholy: “Wanyin knows she cannot compare to Consort Xie in Your Highness’s eyes.”

She wasn’t sure if her performance conveyed that sense of a foolish person unaware of the raging undercurrents, with a mind filled only with thoughts of love.

Xiahou Bo: “…”

Xiahou Bo smiled: “Hasn’t Wanyin seen with her divine eye?”

Yu Wanyin: “Seen what?”

She expected him to say “Xie Yong’er betrayed me,” but instead heard an unexpected line: “Seen my future.”

Yu Wanyin: “?”

“Xie Yong’er once said she foresaw me stemming the tide at its height, creating a golden age, and leaving my mark in history,” Xiahou Bo stared directly into her eyes. “Was she telling the truth?”

Yu Wanyin’s heart skipped a beat.

A deadly choice between two options.

If she said “yes,” she would be boosting Xiahou Bo’s morale for nothing, and making herself more suspicious—if she knew he would win, why hadn’t she joined him earlier?

If she said “no” or “I didn’t see,” whether Xiahou Bo believed her or not was one thing, but whether she could safely leave this carriage was another matter entirely.

Xiahou Bo: “Hmm?”

Yu Wanyin spoke without thinking: “I truly hadn’t foreseen anything before, but my heart privately favored Your Highness, which is why I offered strategic advice through secret messages. Recently, I did dream of Your Highness receiving homage from all people. However, in that vision, the person by Your Highness’s side was not me.”

“Oh? Not you, could it be Xie Yong’er?” Xiahou Bo seemed to find this absurd.

Saying it was Xie Yong’er would be even more incorrect—he now viewed Xie Yong’er as a traitor, and would immediately recognize this as a lie. Yu Wanyin felt inwardly sorry for Xie Yong’er, but outwardly showed slight confusion: “It didn’t seem to be Consort Xie either. That woman resembled Consort Xie somewhat, but younger. She also looked a bit like Xiaowei, but more dignified and beautiful. The way Your Highness looked at that woman was something I never dared to imagine for myself.”

With these words, Xiahou Bo fell silent.

Yu Wanyin reflected on what she had said and realized she had accidentally given a perfect answer. This response effectively blocked all of Xiahou Bo’s potential follow-up questions while reasonably explaining her previous actions.

Why not accept the Emperor and instead wish to escape? Because she foresaw the Emperor’s downfall.

Why, despite liking Prince Duan, did she hesitate to seek his protection? Because there was no place for her in his future.

Did she have weapons? Would she help the Emperor? Of course not—she was just a fish caught in troubled waters, a pitiful sacrificial pawn.

Well done, Yu Wanyin!

Xiahou Bo looked at her and smiled with interest.

Xiahou Bo: “Well answered.”

Yu Wanyin, feeling guilty: “It’s the truth.”

“The truth? Then you must have dreamed incorrectly.” Xiahou Bo’s expression was indifferent, showing some arrogance. “I will not stand alongside any woman in this life. If there must be one, it could only be you.”

Yu Wanyin: “?”

That persistent incorrect option surfaced for the third time.

No way, surely this bastard hadn’t developed feelings?

This was completely out of character for him, but on further reflection, it wasn’t without precedent. In “Demon’s Beloved Consort,” as the male lead entangled in love and hatred with Xie Yong’er for so many chapters, he never shows his true old-dog nature. In “East Wind Night Release,” he fell in love with Yu Wanyin at first sight, loving her as if it were genuine.

Could there be a “romantic” aspect to this person’s character? But if he truly had feelings, how could he be so cruel to Xie Yong’er?

Amid Yu Wanyin’s internal struggle, Xiahou Bo suddenly took her hand.

Yu Wanyin jerked as if electrified, but his five fingers suddenly tightened like iron tongs, the hand of a martial artist, making it impossible for her to move even slightly.

Yu Wanyin drew in a sharp breath: “Your Highness!”

“You’re trembling,” Xiahou Bo leaned closer to her, his voice gentle. “Wanyin, don’t fear me like this.”

“I…” Yu Wanyin struggled to steady her breathing. “Wanyin just doesn’t understand what about me is worthy of Your Highness’s favor. In terms of appearance, I cannot compare to that woman in my dream; in terms of talent, I cannot compare to Consort Xie; as for the divine eye, doesn’t Your Highness also possess it? Moreover, Consort Xie also…”

Where had the carriage reached? At this speed, they should be approaching the palace, right? Would the gun in her sleeve fall out? If it came to that, would she be able to kill him instantly?

Xiahou Bo raised a finger to her lips, silencing her words: “You are the best. I’ve known that from the beginning.”

Yu Wanyin involuntarily shrank back: “I am not.”

Xiahou Bo pursued relentlessly, coming closer and closer until their hair intertwined: “Then why did His Majesty choose you?”

…

Yu Wanyin was momentarily plunged into complete bewilderment.

What did that mean? How had she suddenly lost track of the conversation?

Her confusion had never been so genuine, but Xiahou Bo laughed softly: “Stop pretending. I’ve been waiting for you, for a very, very long time…”

More precisely, since that deep night many years ago, during the hour of the Ox.

Xiahou Bo had quietly concealed himself in the shadows of the trees, listening to the trembling voice of a little palace maid not far away: “This servant… this servant was serving in a side hall nearby, often saw a figure wandering from afar, and noticed the strange shape of the flower cluster, became curious, and dug a little…”

Every word she said had been taught to her by Xiahou Bo.

At that time, he was a half-grown youth, while Crown Prince Xiahou Dan was just a child. He knew that Xiahou Dan’s mother had killed his mother, and he also knew that the reason he went to the imperial study daily to be beaten and humiliated was that the moody little Crown Prince had specifically requested a companion.

An ordinary illegitimate son might have forgotten his dignity, fawned and begged, just asking to be spared.

But Xiahou Bo was born differently.

Every day, he thought about how to kill Xiahou Dan.

Through deliberate observation, he gradually discovered that this little Crown Prince behaved strangely. Sometimes, he would act as if possessed by something, unable to recognize ordinary objects of this world, yet would utter strange, cryptic words. But this person reacted quickly; as soon as he showed a slight slip, he would cover it up as if nothing had happened.

Xiahou Bo began to follow the little Crown Prince and discovered that he would wander and look around a clematis bush every day.

After the Crown Prince left, Xiahou Bo dug into the soil and unearthed a note.

The little palace maid: “The writing on that note was strange, the sentences didn’t make sense. This servant thought… thought it was some guard who wasn’t very literate… This servant deserves to die!”

In the still night, Xiahou Bo heard the little Crown Prince say with despair: “Stop pretending, are you afraid I’ll harm you? Trust me, we are the same kind.”

The same kind.

What kind?

Xiahou Bo pondered, while the conversation continued not far away.

“I—I only have you in this world… Are you not?”

“Not… what?”

“Nothing. Now you know my secret.”

Xiahou Bo quietly gazed through the gaps in the leaves, watching as the little palace maid struggled violently, gradually lost strength, and finally remained motionless.

Even after coming of age and establishing his residence outside the palace, Xiahou Bo never forgot the mysterious conversation that night.

The Emperor was hiding a tremendous secret. But if one said he was gifted, it wasn’t apparent. For years, he had been like a trapped beast, manipulated as a puppet by the Empress Dowager, and tortured until he became increasingly mad.

Xiahou Bo surmised that he had been searching for a critical “same kind.” And once he found that person, what would the Emperor do?

When Xiahou Bo thought about this question in his spare time, he would smile self-mockingly, feeling he was being too suspicious. The Emperor probably just had a mental illness.

Until that day at the palace banquet, when he noticed a new favored consort beside Xiahou Dan, as beautiful as peach and plum blossoms, radiant and captivating.

Before entering the palace, he had seen the Young Lady of the Yu family, teased her, and promptly forgotten her.

But that woman at the palace banquet, with her sharp gaze, strangely made him feel she was unfamiliar. It was as if she had been reborn, or as if… she had been possessed by something.

In some mysterious way, he had a feeling that she and Xiahou Dan were indeed of the same kind.

For a moment, Xiahou Bo felt dejected. From a young age, he had been intelligent, growing more formidable through each trial, always firmly believing that he would eventually stand at the top, possessing vast territories and the sun, moon, and stars. Yu Wanyin’s appearance was like an ominous signal; he had yet to decipher its meaning, but instinctively felt a sinking in his heart.

Then Xie Yong’er approached him, steadfastly telling him that she could foresee the future and that he was the chosen one, destined to seize the throne sooner or later.

Xiahou Bo was satisfied with this prophecy because that was exactly what he had thought.

But as he listened to her words, a conjecture formed in his mind. After indirectly finding some evidence, he privately met with Yu Wanyin and tried to trick her: “Who exactly are you? And who are His Majesty and Xie Yong’er?”

Yu Wanyin’s reaction confirmed his conjecture: the three of them were of the same kind.

From then on, a knot formed in his heart.

Both having divine eyes, Xie Yong’er was devoted to him, while Yu Wanyin remained with the Emperor. These two women seemed evenly matched, but Xiahou Bo hadn’t forgotten that the Emperor had chosen Yu Wanyin first.

Since that year when he was seven and palace servants tugged his ears and cursed him for his “lowly fate,” any cheap, inferior thing only made him nauseated.

She was the best.

He wanted only the best.

At this moment, Yu Wanyin’s slender neck was just inches from his nose, looking so fragile that he could almost see the pulse of her blood vessels. She gritted her teeth, just as she had during their previous encounters, her eyes full of fear and wariness.

“Wanyin,” Xiahou Bo said in a whisper, “I give you one last chance. Stand by my side, and everything will be yours.”

Yu Wanyin remained motionless, as if frozen solid.

Xiahou Bo lowered his head and lightly pecked her neck: “Well?”

The next second, the carriage stopped.

His subordinate said from outside the window: “Your Highness, the road ahead is blocked by dozens of imperial guards. But they haven’t drawn their weapons.”

Xiahou Bo said with light mockery: “His Majesty has come to claim his person.”

Yu Wanyin: “…Being attacked in the street, it’s only natural for him to send people.” She glanced at his hand gripping hers and used a conciliatory tone: “Your Highness, after I leave the carriage, I will forget today’s conversation and won’t mention it to anyone.”

Xiahou Bo was reminded by her glance but pretended not to notice, still not letting go: “Oh? So you’re not considering my offer?”

Outside the carriage, a voice called from afar: “Greetings to Prince Duan. Has Your Highness rescued Consort Yu?” It seemed to be an imperial guard’s voice, urging him to let her out of the carriage.

Yu Wanyin looked at him pitifully: “Wanyin is like drifting duckweed; how could I not be moved by Your Highness’s sincere treatment? But with imperial guards outside, this is not the right time to discuss these matters. If Your Highness doesn’t mind, we can continue our communication through secret messages later, alright?”

Xiahou Bo released his fingers one by one, saying tenderly: “Alright. Take care of yourself.”

He disembarked first, then turned back to lift the carriage curtain, politely helping her down. He said to the lead imperial guard: “Ruffians attempted assassination, fortunately I was passing by. It was a close call, but no harm done.” The other side didn’t confront him either, exchanged a few pleasantries, and then escorted Yu Wanyin back to the palace.

Xiahou Bo stood in place, watching their silhouettes disappear into the darkness, his gaze gradually turning cold.

His subordinate approached and reported in a low voice: “The man Your Highness shot earlier has been saved.”

Xiahou Bo: “Did he see anything?”

Subordinate: “Consort Yu had a mechanism hidden in her sleeve, never seen before. Judging by its shape, it seems capable of launching hidden weapons.”

Xiahou Bo stood in the night wind and remained silent for a while.

After a long time, he muttered as if to himself: “Since this is her choice, I can only fulfill her wish.”

Subordinate: “Your Highness?”

Xiahou Bo turned back toward the carriage, leaving behind an instruction: “Send messages to the generals. We’re ready to begin.”

Just before entering the palace gates, Yu Wanyin’s mind was still turning over Xiahou Bo’s strange words.

“‘Why did His Majesty choose you…'” she repeated softly, still not grasping their true meaning. When had Xiahou Dan ever sought her out, and been seen by Prince Duan?

As the palace gate opened, her thoughts emptied.

Xiahou Dan stared at her expressionlessly. In the dim light, his features were completely hidden in shadow; only his tightly pressed lips were visible.

Yu Wanyin’s guilt and remorse immediately surfaced, and she hurried over: “I was wrong, I shouldn’t have…”

As the distance closed, she saw his eyes clearly, and her words faltered. The hair on her back stood on end.

Xiahou Dan grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the palace.

He gripped the same spot that had just been held by Prince Duan. Yu Wanyin winced in pain and reflexively pulled away.

Xiahou Dan stopped.

He slowly turned around, first looking at her for several seconds, then seemingly with great difficulty, tore his gaze away from her to the wounded guards who had returned behind her.

In the deathly silence, his voice broke like a blade through the ice: “Bury them all.”

After descending from Prince Duan’s carriage, Yu Wanyin automatically entered a post-trauma mode, with even her overloaded brain temporarily shutting down. Now she stood dumbfounded, not even realizing whom he was referring to.

Then she saw the imperial guards respond, seizing those few guards and roughly forcing them to kneel on the ground.

These were men who hadn’t uttered a sound despite their injuries, and even now they didn’t cry for mercy, only silently kowtowing to acknowledge their guilt.

Yu Wanyin: “!!!”

She was shocked: “Wait! It’s not their fault—”

Xiahou Dan didn’t listen, yanking her suddenly. Yu Wanyin stumbled as he pulled her toward the sleeping chambers, anxiously saying: “Your Majesty… Your Majesty!” She lowered her voice, speaking rapidly, “I was the one who insisted on going out. They didn’t know about your prohibition. The mistake was mine. Don’t kill the innocent…”

Xiahou Dan gave a strange laugh.

Yu Wanyin struggled to look back and saw that the guards had already been dragged away.

Yu Wanyin felt cold all over and turned to look at his profile.

He was walking so fast, taking large strides, that even the palace servants carrying lanterns were left behind. In the darkness, only his disheveled hair could be seen, appearing like a madman.

This wasn’t the Xiahou Dan she knew.

For a moment, she almost suspected that the person she was familiar with had transmigrated again. His soul had left this body, leaving before her the original tyrant—dispensing life and death, ruthless and unfeeling.

She trembled involuntarily: “…Dan-Boss?”

Xiahou Dan didn’t respond.

Was it still him? Yu Wanyin, disregarding everything else, only wanted to save people: “We only have that many guards, and we’ve already lost most of them. They are the people who died for you in the original work!”

Xiahou Dan: “How did Prince Duan find you?”

This question came out of nowhere. In her confusion, it took Yu Wanyin two seconds to understand his implication: “It must be his spies searching throughout the city. It couldn’t have been leaked by the guards. If there were traitors among the guards, Prince Duan would have known about our guns long ago, along with many more, bigger secrets, and we would have been defeated without a fight!”

Xiahou Dan remained unmoved: “Taking you out of the palace in such circumstances—how is that different from being a traitor?”

Yu Wanyin: “…”

Yu Wanyin belatedly understood. Xiahou Dan’s anger was not directed at those guards but at herself.

She had defied him, sneaked out of the palace behind his back, and almost allowed Prince Duan to discover their secrets, ruining everything.

But he didn’t want to kill her.

If she did not suffer punishment, someone else must suffer in her place.

She didn’t know when his thinking pattern had become so aligned with a ruler’s identity. Or perhaps she had noticed his transformation but chose to ignore it through repeated self-consolation.

Xiahou Dan was the last fragment of the world she knew, the last thread of attachment. But the world had already changed beyond recognition; no one could remain unchanged.

Yu Wanyin took a deep breath and knelt down.

Xiahou Dan had been dragging her along, but when she suddenly knelt, he finally released her hand.

The floor tiles of the winter night were already frozen through. The moment her knees made contact, the cold savagely invaded her flesh. But Yu Wanyin no longer felt the cold. She hung her head and humbly said: “This matter arose because of me alone. I beg Your Majesty to spare the guards and punish your concubine instead.”

She could only see Xiahou Dan take half a step back, as if unsteady.

After a long few breaths, his voice came from above: “Very well.”

He instructed the palace servants: “Lock Consort Yu in the sleeping chambers. From today until the day I die, she is not allowed to step outside even once.”

Yu Wanyin didn’t raise her head, listening as his footsteps gradually faded away.

A servant bent down to help her up: “Your Highness, please.”

She felt as if walking on clouds, dazedly being led into the chamber. The sound of the lock came from behind. The servants, afraid of Xiahou Dan’s thunderous anger, dared not follow her in; they locked the door and kept their distance.

The vast chamber had never seemed so empty. Yu Wanyin stood blankly, leaning against the door.

Her mind was a tangled mess of a thousand threads. One moment she felt the dull pain in her wrist, the next she worried about whether the guards had been saved, and then she thought of Cen Jintian and others, wondering if Prince Duan would go back to trouble them.

Had Xiahou Dan sent people to protect them after hearing about this? Would he think that Cen Jintian was going to die either way? Would he think that a paper character who had lost his value might as well be dead?

In the past, she wouldn’t have speculated about him like this, but now…

Yu Wanyin turned to knock on the door: “Is anyone there? I have urgent business!”

After calling for a long time, there was no response.

The chamber’s floor had heating, yet Yu Wanyin still felt colder the longer she stood. She walked to the bed, fell face-first onto it, and buried her face under the blanket like an ostrich.

Just earlier today, the two of them had been here, commenting back and forth on the memorials.

It was as if a hole had opened in her chest, letting all emotions leak out, leaving her feeling only numbness.

After an unknown amount of time, the sound of the door opening suddenly came.

She startled awake and looked toward the door: “Uncle Bei.”

Bei Zhou held a wooden tray in his hands: “I’ve brought you dinner.”

Yu Wanyin quickly ran over and grabbed him, fearing he would leave after putting down the meal: “Uncle Bei, Cen Jin… ” She changed mid-sentence, “Xiao Tiancai and Er Lan are still of great use to His Majesty. Prince Duan might trouble them…”

She emphasized “great use.”

Bei Zhou heard the change in her view of Xiahou Dan and sighed: “The imperial guards handled everything thoroughly. While rescuing you, they also relocated Cen Jintian and the others. Wanyin, what happened tonight—Danér was wrong. When your life hung in the balance, he nearly went mad.”

Yu Wanyin was stunned.

Bei Zhou: “He ordered that wherever Prince Duan’s carriage went, if you didn’t safely disembark, Prince Duan was to be executed on the spot. But Prince Duan always brings many men on his outings, while the imperial guards were hastily assembled. If a fight broke out, the outcome would have been uncertain. The imperial guard captain cautioned him once and was almost buried for it.”

After a moment of silence, Yu Wanyin asked: “Uncle Bei, have you seen him like that before?”

Bei Zhou thought for a moment: “You know about his headache condition. When it flares up severely, he sometimes loses control a bit. But he’s afraid of frightening you, so he usually avoids seeing you at such times… That’s why he hasn’t come now.”

Yu Wanyin: “Is this condition becoming more frequent?”

The evening meal went untouched. Yu Wanyin curled up on the bed, at first just closing her eyes in deep thought, but at some point fell into an uneasy light sleep.

She had a strange dream. In the dream, Xiahou Dan was disemboweled, lying in a pool of blood. The murderer stood beside his corpse, smiling.

The murderer, though wearing a face identical to his, was clearly recognized by her in the dream as the tyrant from the original work.

The tyrant walked toward her with a smile: “Wanyin, don’t you recognize your emperor?”

As he spoke, he extended his hands, offering a bloody heart to her.

A faint sound reached her ears, and Yu Wanyin jerked awake, but restrained herself from opening her eyes. The scene from her dream had been too vivid; even the fear had invaded reality intact.

Beyond fear, there was another equally intense emotion that she couldn’t immediately identify.

Footsteps approached.

The flickering candlelight penetrated her thin eyelids, casting a crimson glow.

The crimson was then shadowed by a figure. Xiahou Dan sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at her.

Yu Wanyin kept her eyes tightly shut. The more she tried to calm her heartbeat, the more violently it pounded, seemingly determined to betray her.

She couldn’t guess his posture or expression now. Had his madness passed? So close, if he made another shocking move, she had no means of escape—although he had never truly harmed her, the wild killing intent earlier was enough to tear a person apart from a distance.

Yu Wanyin secretly gritted her teeth.

She didn’t want to wake up, didn’t want to meet his eyes. She feared seeing a strange and cruel smile on that familiar face, feared seeing the ghostly fire from her dream reflected in his eyes.

Time passed second by second, with no sound coming from the bedside.

Yu Wanyin couldn’t maintain the standoff. Just before she compromised and opened her eyes, a cold sensation on her wrist made her eyelashes tremble.

A cool hand lifted her wrist. The lamplight moved closer; Xiahou Dan seemed to be examining her skin.

His fingertip brushed over a spot on her wrist. That place had been aching dully for a long time. Yu Wanyin realized it was a bruise left when Prince Duan had restrained her.

Xiahou Dan might have mistakenly thought he had hurt her, because his fingertip movements were light, too light, even bringing a slight tickle.

Then those fingertips left and fell on the side of her neck.

That was where Prince Duan had pecked her.

Yu Wanyin’s heart tightened. That bastard had deliberately left a mark!

Xiahou Dan’s fingers slowed, still barely touching her, the coolness seeping into the skin of her neck.

Yu Wanyin held her breath, completely unable to predict his reaction.

Darkness enveloped her, blocking the faint light through her eyelids. Xiahou Dan had covered her eyes.

His hand was cold, but his lips were still warm.

Yu Wanyin opened her eyes under his palm.

This time she didn’t need to deliberately avoid seeing his face; she couldn’t see it. But the longing in this kiss almost overflowed—it was the breath of an old friend.

As if a phantom play had ended, the white chalk mask cracked with spider web patterns, falling from his face piece by piece, dropping, shattering to dust, revealing the flesh of a living person beneath.

Xiahou Dan kissed her for a moment, received no response, and slowly retreated.

Yu Wanyin suddenly gripped his hand, pressing it firmly against her eyes.

Her knuckles turned white, her nails digging into the back of his hand.

Xiahou Dan looked down at her, trying to judge her expression from the half of her face visible, but felt moisture in his palm.

“…Stop crying.”

Yu Wanyin’s tears flowed silently as she squeezed out through gritted teeth: “I—don’t—want to—”

In her daze, she recalled the other emotion she had brought from the dream—it was anger.

Having made the determination to struggle until the end, she could only watch helplessly as this world tore open his chest and dug out his heart and liver.

She hated that he changed too quickly, and hated her own powerlessness.

She also hated that her tear ducts wouldn’t obey her.

She desperately tried to hold back the weak tears, until her face turned red with the effort.

Xiahou Dan couldn’t withdraw his hand, and his voice carried a hint of helplessness: “Please don’t cry. I handled it wrong. The guards are fine; everyone is fine. I won’t confine you. Those were rash words spoken in anger, and I regretted them as soon as I turned away… Wanyin?”

Yu Wanyin shook her head: “No, I shouldn’t have left the palace.”

She finally released his hand and sat up to face him: “I misjudged the situation, nearly caused a disaster, and implicated others.”

“It’s not that…”

“And I hurt you.” Yu Wanyin was overwhelmed with grief. “You looked like you wanted to tear someone apart, yet also like you were being torn apart. Where had you gone at that moment? Did I push you one step closer to becoming the tyrant?”

Xiahou Dan: “…”

His very soul was shaken by this question.

Yes, in her eyes, that’s what it was.

She was desperately trying to prevent something that had happened ten years ago, like grasping at the moon in water, heartbrokenly clinging to a phantom.

All illusions were shattered, only to be woven into new illusions.

Without hesitation, Xiahou Dan embraced her firmly: “No. I came back.”

Yu Wanyin: “Can you stop leaving? I’m not afraid of failure or death, but I fear you’ll disappear before then. If you disappear, it seems I would quickly disappear too, fading away inside this shell…”

“That won’t happen. We’re both here.”

In this moment, Xiahou Dan made his final decision.

“Whether in life or death, you have a companion. I will never let you be alone.”

Though pressed close to each other, this small distance seemed like an abyss. Even an oath dropped between them echoed hollowly.

Yu Wanyin dared not think further. She bit his lip, her teeth drawing blood. Xiahou Dan laughed softly, indulging her, enticing her, swallowing both blood and tears, like a demon savoring a rich, vibrant soul.

Silk tore and fell away, long hair spread out, winding around intertwined arms.

After the palace lamps were extinguished, the moonlight on snow grew brighter.

Yu Wanyin had been a nun bearing the title of bewitching consort for so long; finally, she did something a bewitching consort should do.

She made Xiahou Dan’s healing wound seep a little blood again.

Xiao Tiancai watched as Xiahou Dan removed his dragon robe to reveal his chest, his face expressing complete resignation.

Xiahou Dan: “Look at the wound, not where you shouldn’t look.”

Xiao Tiancai still counted on Yu Wanyin to fulfill her promise and dared not offend this shameless couple: “This humble servant will rebandage it now.”

He undid the original bandage and, to control himself from looking at those scattered marks, nearly squinted his eyes into slits, groping to apply the medicine, then took out new bandages.

After wrapping half a circle, Xiahou Dan turned, revealing his back.

Xiao Tiancai: “……”

To be honest, it was quite aesthetic.

He thought numbly, finally unable to resist glancing at Yu Wanyin.

Yu Wanyin guiltily turned her head away.

Xiao Tiancai, as if held at knifepoint, suddenly accelerated, quickly finishing wrapping the bandage, and only then resumed breathing.

He didn’t want to stay a moment longer, but as he was leaving, he realized that if the wound reopened, he would have to come back. His features contorted in struggle as he advised: “Your Majesty is injured, so for now… uh, rest is important, and… practice moderation.”

He ducked his head and fled with his medicine box.

Yu Wanyin: “…”

Yu Wanyin was nearly mortified with embarrassment, but Xiahou Dan rose nonchalantly, pulled his inner garment back over his shoulders, and leisurely tied the sash.

The servants had all been dismissed. Yu Wanyin walked behind him with a lowered head to help him put on his outer robe: “That… I was a bit nervous then and couldn’t control myself.”

Xiahou Dan: “It’s not a big issue.”

Yu Wanyin was just about to change the subject when she saw his shoulders slightly shaking: “Beloved concubine need not worry. This is merely a late arrival at morning court, far from the point where the emperor never attends morning court.”

Yu Wanyin: “?”

Her face burned hot enough to catch fire as she threw the outer robe over his head: “Are you suggesting I should keep it up?”

Xiahou Dan’s laughter was muffled by the garment. He didn’t lift the robe but turned around, groping to take her hand: “Hearing the strength in beloved concubine’s voice, it seems it is the emperor who needs to keep up.”

Yu Wanyin stiffened, her mind flashing with chaotic scenes from the night, and hurriedly said: “No, no, let’s follow the doctor’s advice.”

Last night had been too uncontrolled; even now her legs were still weak. If they were to ignite passion again, even if his wound could withstand it, she couldn’t.

Xiahou Dan laughed even harder at her words.

What was this guy so pleased about?

Yu Wanyin was both amused and annoyed, patting his face through the cloth: “No longer afraid of skin contact?”

Xiahou Dan’s laughter softened, paused for a few seconds, and he said quietly: “Not afraid anymore.”

“That’s good.” Yu Wanyin smiled and tried to withdraw her hand to lift the covering from this suddenly shy bride. But Xiahou Dan still loosely held her wrist, his fingertips gently caressing.

Yu Wanyin looked down and saw the bruise.

Remembering this, she quickly explained: “This wasn’t from you, it was Prince Duan.”

She briefly recounted the conversation in the carriage.

Xiahou Dan pulled off his outer robe himself, his smile gradually disappearing: “After concealing for so long, we still couldn’t remove you from his attention.”

“This can’t be helped. From the moment he learned I had a ‘divine eye,’ I had only two possible endings with him: either to be used by him or to die. I’ve always tried to make him believe I was on his side, but yesterday’s situation was so frightening, I don’t know if I revealed any flaws…”

Yu Wanyin frowned: “If he becomes suspicious of me, he might hastily change his assassination plan against you, to prevent me from foreseeing it with the divine eye. That would put even more pressure on us.”

Xiahou Dan looked at her thoughtfully.

Yu Wanyin: “Anyway, there’s no use worrying unnecessarily. Let’s do our best and leave the rest to fate. You should hurry to morning court…”

“Wanyin,” Xiahou Dan said, “since he will suspect you regardless, why not just accept the inevitable?”

“What do you mean?”

“I want to make you empress. No better time than the present—how about today?”

Yu Wanyin was momentarily stunned.

“It’s like this,” Xiahou Dan counted on his fingers as he explained, “The Empress Dowager’s faction is mostly under control, and the Empress Dowager herself should be ascending to heaven soon. During the mourning period, we can’t appoint an empress. After that, there will inevitably be a battle between me and Prince Duan. If he wins, he’ll need to stabilize public sentiment. If you’re the Empress, he’ll be more hesitant to harm you.”

Yu Wanyin: “…Prince Duan detests traitors deeply. Do you believe that the title of Empress will stop him from killing me?”

Xiahou Dan didn’t answer immediately.

In his silence, Yu Wanyin realized: that when he said “harm you,” he wasn’t referring to “kill you.”

No one could truly fathom Prince Duan’s mind. But judging from his behavior in the carriage, if he were to eliminate Xiahou Dan, perhaps he wouldn’t want to kill Yu Wanyin but rather claim her for himself.

A mere consort of the previous dynasty—with any excuse and a change of identity, she could be at his disposal.

By then, with Xiahou Dan dead and gone, the last protection he could leave her would be the status of Empress.

Xiahou Dan: “I don’t know how useful it will be. Just consider it as giving me peace of mind. Alright?”

Though his words were disheartening, his eyes were brighter than ever, like a light shining through the night fog.

Consort Yu, who had been placed under house arrest by the Emperor the previous night, became Empress overnight.

Xiahou Dan issued this decree unexpectedly during morning court, nearly taking the breath away from all the civil and military officials—one fainted, Yu Wanyin’s father.

Xiahou Dan maintained a solemn expression: “The Empress Dowager’s condition is critical, and my heart is as if cut by a knife; I wish I could cut my flesh for medicine. Remembering that the central palace has been vacant for years, which has been a constant worry for the Empress Dowager. The only plan now is to establish an empress, to stabilize heaven and earth, to nurture life, which might help the Empress Dowager turn danger into safety.”

In short: a happy occasion to dispel misfortune.

“Of course,” he added, “at present, I can hardly eat or sleep, and Consort Yu has been attending to the Empress Dowager day and night without rest. So the ceremony for appointing the empress can be prepared later by the Ministry of Rites.”

As Minister Yu was carried out of the great hall, this explosive news spread rapidly throughout the harem.

As soon as Yu Wanyin stepped out, she was surrounded.

The crowd was even larger than before, with flattery, fawning, pleading, and entreating—everyone had something to say.

Yu Wanyin silently repeated “Calm down” several times: “Yes, yes, the rose extract is nice, but please don’t send more, I appreciate the thought… Sister, you’re so sweet-tongued, and you’re beautiful too… There won’t be an investiture ceremony, the Empress Dowager is still ill, so it’s not appropriate to arrange…”

“The Empress Dowager has always been most fond of Sister. Hearing this good news, she will surely recover soon!” The consorts smiled with their eyes curving, looking genuine.

Yu Wanyin: “.”

“Oh yes, Sister, remember that ping-pong you mentioned? We’ve learned a bit about it.” A beautiful young woman magically produced two wooden paddles, then pulled out a colorful hollow embroidered ball, watching Yu Wanyin’s expression, “Does Sister like it?”

As she spoke, she skillfully bounced the ball seven or eight times in front of Yu Wanyin.

Yu Wanyin: “???”

Is this what it feels like to be favored by the king?

Yu Wanyin slowly revealed a peaceful smile: “Good, good, very spirited.”

Having navigated this world for so long, Yu Wanyin’s acting skills have greatly improved. At this moment, she calmly drew from the palace drama script library in her mind, feeling no sense of dissonance.

The title of “Empress” was like a new set of clothes; she wore it because she wore it, not particularly elated, but not anxious either.

Perhaps she would soon become like Xiahou Dan, merging with this shell, unable to distinguish when she was acting…

Yu Wanyin suddenly shook her head, startling the beautiful young woman holding her arm.

She took a breath: “Come on, let’s play a couple of games.”

Lin Xuanying sat on his horse, glanced at the sun, and raised a hand: “Stop.”

The black-clad men following him were well-trained, all reining in their horses. The massive troop suddenly halted, and besides the rustling of vegetation, not a single extraneous sound was made.

Lin Xuanying shaded his eyes with his hand and looked forward. The trees were thinning out, the mountains sloping downward; going further would bring them into villages and towns.

A man emerged from behind: “Vice General.”

Lin Xuanying dismounted and casually tied his horse to a tree: “Set up camp here, and advance in groups after nightfall.”

“Yes, sir.”

Behind them, the vast black army stretched as far as the eye could see, silently disappearing into the deep forest.

Lin Xuanying: “At this pace, how long until we reach the capital?”

Subordinate: “Without obstacles, fifteen days.” He glanced at Lin Xuanying, seeming to want to say more.

Lin Xuanying had set out quite early.

Even before Prince Duan’s letter arrived, he had already approached General You: “Prince Duan is planning a rebellion, but his private army alone is insufficient. He will surely borrow men from the three armies to surround the capital. Logically, the Central Army is on excellent terms with him, but with Yan State in civil war, the Central Army must reserve men for border defense and cannot commit fully. So he will soon approach the Right Army.”

General You’s fat face was trembling: “Our southern border isn’t peaceful either!”

The Queen of Qiang was originally on good terms with the King of Yan, and they were even about to form a marriage alliance. Now, with Tur fiercely returning, driving the King of Yan into a desperate retreat, he had fled into Qiang territory.

Qiang had always been a weak country, dependent on Yan like a parasitic plant. This time it suffered collateral damage. Amidst the chaos, large numbers of refugees with nowhere to escape were flooding into Da Xia.

These Qiang people weren’t particularly powerful in combat, but when it came to underhanded tactics, they were exceptionally vicious. Stealing money and grain was just the beginning; some would pretend to beg, enter the homes of kind farmers, suddenly poison the well water, slaughter the entire village from young to old, and then search each house for valuables before fleeing.

General You, this incompetent, had been living comfortably in the southern region—when had he ever encountered such a situation? He was already overwhelmed with capturing refugees, and upon hearing Lin Xuanying’s words, he felt his vision darken: “If we can’t provide men… will Prince Duan be angry?”

The pitiable tone made it sound as if Prince Duan’s men were flying above, pointing arrows at his head.

Lin Xuanying naturally understood that what he was asking was: “Will Prince Duan withdraw the benefits promised to me?”

Lin Xuanying smiled faintly: “You stay here, and I’ll take some men out.”

General You was shocked: “Xuanying, you can’t leave! How can you abandon your post at a time like this?”

“…Then I’ll stay, and you go challenge the Imperial Guards?”

General You fell silent.

Everyone knew, even he knew, who was supporting the Right Army.

Lin Xuanying stood before him, a full head taller, with a forced smile and a bow: “Don’t worry, General. I won’t take many men.”

Indeed, he didn’t bring many men, but they were all elite.

Lin Xuanying took the water flask and drank: “How many men did the other two armies send out? Have you found out?”

“The Central Army has approximately fifty thousand men.”

“Wow, fifty thousand… General Luo has gone all in, determined to live and die with Prince Duan.”

“The Left Army’s movements are more secretive, but the number deployed should exceed ours.”

Lin Xuanying paused, then said flatly: “The capital’s Imperial Guards total just over ten thousand.”

Even with reinforcements from surrounding prefectures, in terms of military strength, they would be no match for the battle-hardened border armies.

Unless the Emperor had some miraculous reinforcements hidden away, once the three armies formed an encirclement, he would be trapped in the capital with no escape.

However, for the participating soldiers, this would inevitably be a shameful victory. From then on, for thousands of generations, they would forever bear the name of rebels.

The young subordinate reporting was barely more than a boy. Lin Xuanying saw in his peripheral vision how the youth held back, but finally spoke: “Vice General… when this subordinate joined the army, I thought that even if I were to die, it would be on the battlefield.”

Lin Xuanying looked straight ahead and capped the water flask: “Find a place to rest.”

The young beauties who had practiced ball games thought they had finally figured out Yu Wanyin’s preferences and immediately set up a table in the Imperial Garden, playing with a fighting spirit undeterred by the cold.

Fortunately, the weather was clear and cold, with no wind or snow, and as they played, they warmed up.

Yu Wanyin had only mentioned it casually at the time and didn’t know how to play ping-pong, especially since this embroidered ball game was essentially a new sport. But everyone was equally unskilled, and with some deliberately letting her win to curry favor, they managed a decent exchange.

The scene was momentarily falsely prosperous.

After several rounds, perhaps because her brain had begun secreting dopamine, or perhaps because the palace intrigue scene had successfully evolved into a team-building activity, Yu Wanyin felt a rare sense of ease. She gradually got into the rhythm, not even noticing when the cheers from onlookers suddenly diminished.

Until she missed a ball and turned with a smile to pick it up, she discovered that the embroidered ball had rolled to a pair of feet not far away.

Those feet were wearing court boots.

Yu Wanyin: “…”

Xiahou Dan bent down to pick up the ball: “What is this?”

After the consorts paid their respects, they stood with lowered heads, not daring to breathe, all secretly watching Yu Wanyin’s reaction.

The Emperor went mad last night, Consort Yu became Empress this morning—what was the logical connection between these two pieces of news? Countless brains had been racked without figuring it out.

Those who had survived until today in such a treacherous palace drama had more or less grasped one principle: the best way to survive here was not to court death. Numerous tragic examples proved that the more intensely one fought, the earlier one died.

But this rule didn’t apply to Yu Wanyin.

Since entering the palace, Yu Wanyin had played various roles: the seductress, the white lotus, the talented lady of the book pavilion, the silly sweet girl who couldn’t sing, the ignorant foodie, the righteous critic of the emperor, the pitiful woman in the cold palace… It was as if she had tried to perform every character type that wouldn’t survive three chapters, acting out every possible way to die.

Others who wanted to learn from her couldn’t figure out how because until now, no one had analyzed which approach the Emperor favored.

Perhaps the essence lay in this all-encompassing chaos—some thought.

But now that she had become Empress, at the height of her success, shouldn’t she reveal some of her true nature?

How this imperial couple interacted directly related to the future survival strategy for both the court and the harem, so they needed to figure it out immediately.

Yu Wanyin couldn’t think of a better answer: “Ping-pong.”

“Ping…” Xiahou Dan looked at the embroidered ball suspiciously, his eyes filled with rejection.

Yu Wanyin waved her hand, indicating he shouldn’t nitpick: “It’s playable, it’s playable.” She took the ball and demonstrated by serving once, but the beautiful young woman on the other side didn’t dare to return it.

Xiahou Dan drew in a breath: “Your paddle is…” not held correctly.

Yu Wanyin: “?” Well, he’s an expert?

She asked with her eyes: Do you want to join in?

Xiahou Dan shook his head and said gently: “Is the Empress tired?”

Yu Wanyin understood he had something to discuss with her and quickly said: “Indeed, I am a bit tired. Let’s end for today and continue another day.”

The young beauty across from her finally came to her senses, murmuring: “May Your Majesty take care of your precious health.”

After Yu Wanyin had gone far in the imperial palanquin, everyone looked at each other in bewilderment.

Let alone understanding how they interacted, they couldn’t even figure out how the two communicated.

Through divine consciousness?

In the imperial palanquin, Yu Wanyin leaned close to Xiahou Dan’s ear, her breath forming a white mist: “What’s wrong?”

Xiahou Dan: “Some border troops have moved secretly.”

“Which border?”

“All three borders have movement, exact numbers still unknown. It seems Xiahou Bo couldn’t wait any longer.”

Yu Wanyin had already vaguely guessed before he spoke.

They had discussed this matter long ago and had anticipated that once Xiahou Dan consolidated central power, Prince Duan would have to borrow border troops. Now all three armies had been bought by him, which matched their worst scenario.

So she calmly responded: “Then we should hurry too before his reinforcements arrive.”

“Yes, I’ve told Xiao Tiancai that the medicine keeping the Empress Dowager alive can be stopped.”

Yu Wanyin: “How many more days can she last?”

Xiahou Dan said diplomatically: “Xiao Tiancai will stop it rather artistically.”

Yu Wanyin: “…”

She turned her head to look.

Xiahou Dan held her hand: “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing.” Winter sunshine is always especially precious. Yu Wanyin couldn’t help gazing a while longer at the flowers and plants in the Imperial Garden, with a vague premonition that the next ping-pong match, supposedly rescheduled for “another day,” would likely be indefinitely postponed.

“Half a day of leisure in this fleeting life is indeed stolen time.”

Xiao Tiancai was very efficient.

The next night, Yu Wanyin was awakened by urgent knocking. An Xian’s trembling voice came from outside: “Your Majesty, something’s wrong with the Empress Dowager.”

This announcement was like a starting gun. Yu Wanyin instantly became alert and turned to look at the person beside her.

Xiahou Dan was also looking at her, asking softly: “Are you ready?”

Yu Wanyin nodded: “Let’s go.”

To express grief, An Xian’s announcement was particularly mournful today: “His Majesty arrives—”

Xiahou Dan, holding Yu Wanyin’s hand, descended from the imperial palanquin. In the middle of the night, the cold wind was biting, making Yu Wanyin shiver.

A guard approached from behind and said in a low voice: “No sign of Prince Duan’s people yet.”

Guards had been lurking around the Empress Dowager’s chambers for some time. As soon as the Empress Dowager breathed her last, Prince Duan might act at any moment. So from now on, they were on the highest alert.

Xiahou Dan nodded imperceptibly and walked through the main door.

The main hall was filled with kneeling palace servants. The quick-moving consorts had also rushed to kneel in place, each with a pale face, putting on a look of profound grief. But tears had not yet been summoned, indicating the Empress Dowager still had one breath left.

Yu Wanyin followed beside Xiahou Dan, passing through the crowd toward the inner chamber. She casually glanced at the gathering and was slightly startled—many people were sneaking looks at her.

More precisely, they were looking at her belly.

Those inquiring gazes were almost blatant. Yu Wanyin instinctively felt uncomfortable and raised her sleeve to block them.

This caused even more direct stares.

Yu Wanyin: “?”

Several old imperial physicians emerged from the inner chamber, followed by Xiao Tiancai as an apprentice. Following protocol, they knelt before Xiahou Dan with freely flowing tears: “This old official is incompetent, this old official deserves death…”

Xiahou Dan also strictly followed protocol, kicking away the lead physician and rushing in with agitated anger. His voice preceded him: “Mother! Mother!”

The air inside was stale, permeated with an unpleasant odor—a mixture of excrement and the cold aura of death.

The Empress Dowager on the bed had already been dressed in burial clothes, looking withered. Her limbs had been arranged properly, hands folded on her chest, lying stiffly like a corpse, with bulging eyeballs.

The young Crown Prince was kneeling in a corner, curled up, almost like a puppet with cut strings. Only up close could one see that he was trembling.

Xiahou Dan: “Ah!”

His voice was ridiculously loud, seemingly to ensure everyone outside could hear: “Mother, be at ease, your son is here!”

Yu Wanyin: “…”

Today she witnessed the pinnacle of acting.

Xiahou Dan could somehow speak with a tearful voice while simultaneously displaying a malicious smile to the person on the bed.

The Empress Dowager was provoked into convulsions but could only make “uh-ah-ah” sounds.

Xiahou Dan sat down on the edge of the bed, thoughtfully tucking in her blanket: “Your son understands everything, everything.”

As their eyes met, Xiahou Dan recalled their first meeting—that magnificently dressed, imperious stepmother. Her crimson nails had scraped across his cheek, making his eyelids twitch, yet he dared not dodge.

At that time, he was like a lamb awaiting slaughter, with only the mercy of others to wait for.

If she had truly taught him anything in these past ten years, perhaps it was: don’t wait.

The Empress Dowager’s nail polish had long since flaked away unevenly. She stared at Xiahou Dan, convulsing for a long time. With each spasm, her exhalations grew longer, her inhalations shorter.

Xiahou Dan: “What? The little Crown Prince?” He proclaimed loudly, “Mother need not worry, I will take good care of him.”

Shielded by the bed curtains, he made a throat-slitting gesture toward the Empress Dowager, his smile growing more festive.

Empress Dowager: “…”

Xiahou Dan thought this would finally anger her to death, yet she still struggled to breathe with extreme difficulty. Her lifeless eyes stared directly at him, her lips slightly moving.

Strangely, at this point, hatred had vanished from her eyes; only unwillingness remained.

Xiahou Dan tried to imagine what scenes might be flashing through her mind at this moment but couldn’t come up with an answer.

She had no lover—she had told him herself that the person she hated most in this life was the late Emperor.

She had no paramours—in all these years, she hadn’t kept even one favorite courtier.

She also had no children—long before she ascended to the position of Empress, the old Empress Dowager had taken away her possibility of conception.

Perhaps from that time on, all that remained for her to pursue was power.

Killing the old Empress Dowager, outliving the late Emperor, controlling Xiahou Dan, manipulating the young Crown Prince… Why love the world? Why seek love? Fighting against others was an endless joy. Xiahou Dan did not doubt that even if she had successfully killed him and Prince Duan, she would have tirelessly continued her battles until the end of her life.

Unfortunately, she had lost too early.

The Empress Dowager struggled violently like a dying fish, her mouth repeatedly changing shapes, emitting indistinct sounds.

Xiahou Dan was unwilling to bend down to listen, so he merely tilted his ear, saying impatiently: “What?”

The Empress Dowager abruptly smiled.

She slowly uttered a few words.

Xiahou Dan paused.

The Empress Dowager’s hand, resting on her chest, tremblingly lifted an inch, then suddenly dropped. Her head also tilted to one side and moved no more.

Silence.

The imperial physician, sensing something wrong, crawled over to lift the bed curtain, symbolically checked her pulse, examined her eyelids, and said with a trembling voice: “Your Majesty… Your Majesty…”

Xiahou Dan remained seated, motionless.

Yu Wanyin, kneeling at the foot of the bed, waited for more than ten seconds, bewildered, and finally stood up to go over and pull him to his feet.

Only then did Xiahou Dan seem to be triggered by some switch. Taking a deep breath, he cried out the first sound: “Mother—!”

Outside, upon receiving the signal, everyone immediately joined in, wailing in waves. Listening from the inner chamber, Yu Wanyin could hear the grand spectacle, both men and women, suggesting that court officials had also arrived.

She wondered if Prince Duan had come.

While perfunctorily joining in the dry howling, she mentally reviewed the positions where their guards were hidden.

Naturally, Xiahou Dan couldn’t just cry once and be done. He was still closing the Empress Dowager’s eyes and arranging her burial clothes, completing the performance thoroughly.

The young Crown Prince, lying nearby, also began to sob. He was perhaps the only person in the room who was genuinely crying, quickly weeping until his face was covered in tears and snot, heartbroken, his whole body shaking as if in a fit. As he shook, he crawled toward the bed, seemingly wanting to see the Empress Dowager one more time.

Yu Wanyin quietly asked Xiahou Dan: “What final words did she leave just now?”

Xiahou Dan turned to look at her, his expression somewhat wooden: “She said she’s waiting for me in the underworld.”

Yu Wanyin’s heart skipped a beat as if a chill rose from the soles of her feet: “What the hell, even facing death she’s still cursing people…”

From the corner of her eye, she noticed the young Crown Prince crawling closer and instinctively glanced at him. The Crown Prince was looking toward Xiahou Dan, his little face stretched too tight, his features distorted, the entire person holding his breath, like a balloon about to explode.

In that instant, Yu Wanyin suddenly felt her heart tighten.

Perhaps due to intuition honed between life and death, her body moved.

She suddenly lunged toward Xiahou Dan, shoving him away—

Simultaneously, the young Crown Prince raised his arm, a red mist erupting from his sleeve, spraying toward Xiahou Dan, but most of it was blocked by Yu Wanyin—

Yu Wanyin had expected a dagger or hidden weapon, never imagining this kind of thing, and inadvertently inhaled some, immediately breaking into violent coughs.

Xiahou Dan pushed back two steps, froze for a moment, then immediately covered his nose and mouth, rushed back to pull her away, and turned to deliver a vicious kick directly to the young Crown Prince’s chest.

The young Crown Prince was sent flying, falling to the ground and spitting out a mouthful of blood.

Yu Wanyin collapsed to her knees, coughing breathlessly. Xiahou Dan ran his hand over her clothes and hair, his fingertips covered with red powder.

Guards had already controlled all the palace servants and physicians in the room and restrained the young Crown Prince on the ground: “Your Majesty, it’s not safe to stay here. Please take temporary shelter…”

Xiahou Dan strode forward and grabbed the young Crown Prince by the throat: “The antidote.”

The young Crown Prince screamed.

The commotion reached the outer chamber, and the professional wailing outside stopped.

Xiahou Dan’s fingers gradually tightened, forcibly cutting off the screams: “The antidote.”

The young Crown Prince began to struggle, his face turning purple-red. The guards, seeing the situation deteriorating, tried to intervene: “Your Majesty, please calm your anger!”

Xiahou Dan ignored them completely, veins bulging on his strangling hand, dark energy rising between his brows.

Yu Wanyin finally caught her breath and surprisingly felt no other discomfort. She turned to look and saw the young Crown Prince’s eyes rolling back. She hurriedly tried to pry Xiahou Dan’s hand away: “Stop quickly, I’m fine…” But she couldn’t budge his grip. Growing alarmed, she moved to his ear and reminded him, “Everyone is outside. Do you want to confirm your reputation as a tyrant right here?”

Xiahou Dan heard nothing.

Yu Wanyin looked closely and was terrified, her breath catching—Xiahou Dan’s eyeballs were bloodshot, his expression ferocious, like an asura.

He had never shown such an appearance even during his previous fits of madness.

Yu Wanyin suddenly remembered the red powder. Xiahou Dan must have also inhaled some of it, right?

Suppressing her fear, she commanded the guards: “Help save the Crown Prince!”

The guards hesitated, not daring to move.

Yu Wanyin urged hoarsely: “Hurry, we still need to ask about the antidote!” She had inhaled much more of the red powder than Xiahou Dan. It was like having a time bomb buried inside her, not knowing when symptoms would appear. She could only try to stabilize the situation while her mind was still clear.

A guard gritted his teeth and jabbed a pressure point on Xiahou Dan’s arm, causing numbness and forcing him to release his grip.

Just as the guard pulled the Crown Prince away, Xiahou Dan hissed: “Kill him.”

Guard: “Your Majesty…”

“Kill him!” Xiahou Dan let out a beast-like roar, swinging a fist. The guard didn’t dare block, awkwardly dodging.

Xiahou Dan lunged to seize his sword.

The guard circled a pillar.

Xiahou Dan reached into his robe and pulled out a gun.

Everyone who knew what the object was had their pupils contract—

The gun barrel aimed at the guard was gripped by a hand.

Yu Wanyin’s entire body trembled: “Xiahou Dan.”

Xiahou Dan instinctively looked at her. Upon seeing the tears in her eyes, he paused almost imperceptibly. In those dark, chaotic pupils, a storm ceased for a few seconds.

Yu Wanyin was actually on the verge of losing her rationality. Her five fingers slowly climbed along the gun barrel, touching the skin on the back of his hand, unable to tell who was colder: “Shall we have hot pot tonight?”

Xiahou Dan froze in place.

In this moment of hesitation, Yu Wanyin said softly: “Knock him out.”

This time the guard didn’t hesitate, chopping the Emperor unconscious with a swift hand strike.

Yu Wanyin looked around—the Empress Dowager was dead, the Emperor poisoned, the Crown Prince barely alive.

She turned to look toward the main hall. The officials and palace servants were still crying softly, but their voices were low, obviously listening to the strange commotion inside.

Everyone in the room was looking at her.

Yu Wanyin forced a smile: “His Majesty fainted from excessive grief. Quickly help him back to rest. The Crown Prince is emotionally unstable and also needs to be properly comforted.”

The guards understood, carrying Xiahou Dan and the Crown Prince out through the back door.

Yu Wanyin raised her hand to brush off a handful of red powder from her shoulder, gripping it in her palm.

This substance had not produced any effect on her so far. She had a vague suspicion, and immediately smiled at the physicians and palace servants: “Don’t panic, everything will proceed as usual.”

While saying these reassuring words, her smile was cold.

She might not have noticed it herself, but in others’ eyes, the newly appointed Empress now carried herself with a different aura.

Those people shuddered and hurriedly began moving. Some brought forward the coffin to prepare the body, others cleaned up the mess.

Yu Wanyin gave Xiao Tiancai a meaningful look, directing his gaze toward the Empress Dowager’s corpse.

Xiao Tiancai seemed to understand, bowing and walking to the enormous coffin, joining the palace servants in arranging the Empress Dowager’s remains.

Yu Wanyin walked directly out of the inner chamber.

The main hall was indeed packed with kneeling people, the line extending out through the main door into the night. Seeing her emerge, the wailing that had stopped was forcibly resumed.

Yu Wanyin signaled An Xian to come forward and, following protocol, arrange for people to either stay overnight or return home for fasting. She symbolically helped a few consorts to their feet, offering a few words of comfort.

Suddenly, a dark figure rushed rapidly toward her, calling out “Your Majesty.”

Yu Wanyin recoiled like a startled bird, retreating several steps. The newcomer was a middle-aged man who awkwardly stopped in place, finally stammering a greeting after a long pause: “Is Your Majesty well?”

Yu Wanyin: “…”

She made a logical deduction.

This person might be her father.

But she couldn’t be 100% certain, and if she mistakenly called him “Father,” it would cause a great commotion. So she could only raise her sleeve to wipe away non-existent tears, mumbling vaguely: “Thank you… for your concern, I… Wanyin is well.”

The man: “Oh, Your Majesty must not worry excessively and harm your health…”

“Minister Yu.” A clear, gentle voice interrupted.

Prince Duan had approached at some point and took the man’s arm, softly persuading him: “This is not the right time for reunion.”

Indeed, it was her father.

But Yu Wanyin’s attention was no longer on her father at all. Prince Duan was standing too close to her—at this distance, the guards wouldn’t have time to save her.

Minister Yu flushed, quickly bowing: “This old official was discourteous. This old official will withdraw now.” Before leaving, he glanced at Yu Wanyin’s belly.

Yu Wanyin’s mind was in chaos and she had no time to analyze his glance. She met Prince Duan’s eyes, ready to flee at any moment while trying hard not to reveal this wariness.

Xiahou Bo smiled sadly: “I have yet to congratulate Your Majesty on ascending to the phoenix throne.”

Yu Wanyin also smiled sadly: “Your Highness, now is not the time.”

She was directly returning his earlier words.

Hearing this, Xiahou Bo looked at her deeply: “Your Majesty still needs to manage the situation. I won’t disturb you further.”

Yu Wanyin had thought he came to inquire about Xiahou Dan’s condition and was surprised to see him so easily dismissed.

She rehearsed her lines silently a few times before responding with a bitter smile: “Indeed, things are quite overwhelming. Thank you for your understanding, Your Highness. We… shall talk another day.”

Xiahou Bo smiled and turned away.

As soon as he turned his back, the affection and disappointment in his eyes completely vanished, replaced entirely with cold mockery.

Some people’s destiny requires no warmth.

And some people’s warmth is so sparing that it vanishes in an instant, fading without a trace before even they notice.

Xiahou Dan didn’t know where he was.

Everything before his eyes was dark; he couldn’t see anything.

His ears were buzzing; he couldn’t hear anything.

If his previous headaches were like waves crashing one after another, this time it was a mountain collapse and tsunami that tore open the earth’s crust.

Someone seemed to be holding his shoulders, shouting something at him, but to his ears, it only added meaningless noise.

It hurt too much.

It was as if two enormous dragons had squeezed into his skull, fighting to the death in this tiny space, cracking his cranium with fissures from which bitter water and flames erupted.

It hurt too much.

It would be better to die immediately.

Even falling into hell, burned by karmic fires, wouldn’t be more painful than this.

Yu Wanyin quickly dismissed everyone, leaving a few guards to monitor the palace servants, and hurried back, followed by Xie Yong’er and Xiao Tiancai.

“The powder.” She handed the red powder she had secretly collected in her palm, now dampened with sweat, to Xiao Tiancai. “Test it.”

Xiao Tiancai said nothing, but with sweat on his forehead and a grave expression, he left.

Yu Wanyin ran toward the inner chamber but was stopped halfway by Bei Zhou’s raised arm.

She looked up in surprise: “Uncle Bei, what do you mean?”

Bei Zhou just silently held his arm horizontally, not letting her pass.

Yu Wanyin knew that a thousand of her couldn’t defeat him, and said dejectedly: “Is it he who won’t let me see him? What about you? Do you also think I should stay away at a time like this?”

Bei Zhou: “.”

Yu Wanyin’s tone grew more despondent: “What am I in your eyes? Just a little trinket to add glory in happy times?”

Bei Zhou lowered his arm: “My arm was getting sore.”

Yu Wanyin: “?”

Bei Zhou even turned his body away: “Sigh, getting old. These old arms and legs can’t take it anymore.”

Yu Wanyin belatedly understood and quickly ran inside.

Even though she had mentally prepared herself, she was still stunned by the scene before her.

Xiahou Dan on the bed had been wrapped in bedding by Bei Zhou, bundled like a zongzi dumpling with the covers. If not for the blood on his forehead and the corners of his mouth, the appearance would have been somewhat comical.

Bei Zhou had applied this remedy after he had bitten himself and stuffed a wad of cloth into his mouth. As a result, the howls from his throat were muffled, greatly reducing their impact.

Yu Wanyin stood motionless like a wooden figure, asking blankly: “Is he like this every time he has an attack?”

Bei Zhou’s voice came from behind: “It was never this severe before. About three months ago, he started needing to be restrained. He didn’t dare let you know, so he issued the prohibition. But we didn’t expect that this time he would bash his head against the bedpost, and try to bite his tongue…”

Yu Wanyin’s face felt ice-cold; reaching up, she realized it was her tears.

Xiahou Dan howled again, his voice completely shattered. Unable to harm himself, he could only use this method to transfer the pain.

Yu Wanyin went over and removed the cloth from his mouth. Xiahou Dan immediately tried to bite himself, but his teeth met with something else.

Yu Wanyin had inserted her fingers into his mouth.

Someone pulled at her hand: “Have you gone mad? He’s gone crazy and you’re joining him?”

Yu Wanyin only then realized that Xie Yong’er had also entered.

Xiahou Dan’s teeth had already pierced her flesh. Yu Wanyin drew in a breath: “It’s fine, better than him injuring himself.”

Xiahou Dan’s eyelids suddenly trembled and slowly opened.

With extreme difficulty, he gradually loosened his jaw, his Adam’s apple bobbing twice as he asked in a breathy voice: “Wanyin?”

His eyes were looking at her, but couldn’t focus properly: “Wanyin?”

Yu Wanyin’s tears fell drop by drop onto his face.

Xiahou Dan seemed dumbfounded, and after a while murmured: “Go away.”

Yu Wanyin bent down to embrace him, but he continued to struggle: “Go away, you shouldn’t be here…” He was extremely agitated, his only desire being to spare her from witnessing this.

With her present, he had to suppress even his cries of pain, the veins on his forehead pulsing with the effort.

Xie Yong’er stood to the side, seeing one had gone mad and the other had suddenly turned into a weeping wreck, and couldn’t help but roll her eyes. She decisively stepped forward, stuffed the cloth back into Xiahou Dan’s mouth, and turned to ask Bei Zhou: “Why not knock him unconscious?”

Bei Zhou: “…The guards have already knocked him out once. I was afraid I couldn’t control my strength and would hurt him.”

Xie Yong’er: “Wait, I’ll call Xiao Tiancai.”

Xiao Tiancai performed a round of acupuncture and sighed deeply with relief: “This should let him sleep for half a day.”

By now, daylight was beginning to appear. Yu Wanyin sat tiredly by the bed, feeling completely hollow, without making a sound.

Xiao Tiancai thought for a moment, then began his report: “This servant just tested the powder on a rat. The rat showed no reaction.”

Yu Wanyin raised her eyes slightly.

Xiao Tiancai: “Earlier, when Your Majesty asked me to examine the corpse, I discovered that the residual nail polish on the Empress Dowager’s nails also seemed to contain this powder. But the powder itself does not appear to be a poison; otherwise, Your Majesty, having inhaled so much, would not still be unharmed.”

“Then what is happening to His Majesty?”

“I vaguely recall reading ancient books about special poisons divided into ‘poison seeds’ and ‘poison triggers.’ The poison seed lies dormant in the body, activating only when it encounters the trigger.”

Xiao Tiancai lowered his head further and said no more.

But his conjecture was already clear: Xiahou Dan carried the poison seed in his body. The Empress Dowager had hidden the trigger in her nails and, over the years, gradually intensified his headaches, ensuring he remained an incompetent tyrant.

The trigger itself was weak, which explained why Bei Zhou and others had searched repeatedly but never found any poison near Xiahou Dan.

But the Empress Dowager hadn’t expected Xiahou Dan would kill her first. Before dying, she decided to take revenge, ordering the young Crown Prince to ambush Xiahou Dan with a large amount of the trigger.

Xiahou Dan had been wary of everyone but never anticipated that the timid young Crown Prince would take such action.

The young Crown Prince also knew that his father treated him coldly, and now that he had appointed a new empress, his position as Crown Prince would soon be in jeopardy. It was better to take a desperate gamble; if successful, he would ascend the throne directly.

Yu Wanyin didn’t know whom to admire.

Perhaps everyone who survived in this palace had become a monster.

“Then we should find someone to pry open the young Crown Prince’s mouth. He should know the antidote, right?”

Xiao Tiancai shook his head: “The young Crown Prince most likely doesn’t know. Even the Empress Dowager might not have known. This type of poison has been lost in Da Xia for ages, only mentioned briefly in ancient texts. No one knows exactly how to concoct it.”

Yu Wanyin: “You mean this poison came to her from elsewhere?”

Xiao Tiancai seemed to recall something and murmured: “Qiang country… The Qiang people are skilled in poisons. Their medicines and poisons form a unique system that outsiders find difficult to understand.”

He rose and walked away: “I will go investigate.”

Yu Wanyin and Xie Yong’er looked at each other in bewilderment.

Yu Wanyin: “Could the Empress Dowager have Qiang lineage?”

Xie Yong’er: “The original text doesn’t mention her lineage, but it does say she poisoned the old Empress Dowager and the late Emperor’s first empress—Xiahou Dan’s grandmother and mother. If she used this poison then, it was so long ago that it’s impossible to trace how she obtained it.”

Yu Wanyin frowned in thought.

The good news was that the cause of Xiahou Dan’s headaches had finally been identified. Once Xiao Tiancai analyzed the poison’s composition, perhaps Tur could find an antidote in Qiang country.

The bad news was… given Xiahou Dan’s current condition, all this might be too late.

Xiahou Dan woke at noon.

Yu Wanyin observed his expression with delight: “Is the headache gone?”

“Almost completely gone.” Xiahou Dan had vague memories of his attack and sighed. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Yu Wanyin: “…”

She felt somewhat angry.

Angry that he had concealed this from her for so long, preferring to be bound like a dumpling rather than letting her accompany him.

But then she realized that even if she had been present, she couldn’t have helped in any way. So her anger transformed into a deep sense of helplessness.

Xiahou Dan seemed to sense her feelings and changed his tone: “Fortunately, it came quickly and left quickly. A good sleep made it much better.”

Yu Wanyin was not consoled at all.

His attacks naturally came and went in waves; who knew when the next one would arrive?

She told him Xiao Tiancai’s conjecture: “Do you have any clues yourself?”

Xiahou Dan’s brain was still being chiseled by nails; though the evil dragon had temporarily retreated, the pain remained more intense than usual. His thoughts were somewhat disorganized as he tried to recall the first time he had experienced a headache—at the old Empress Dowager’s deathbed.

But at that time, his future stepmother had not been present.

As for whether the old Empress Dowager’s clothes, hair, or sickbed had contained residual red powder, he couldn’t remember at all.

Xiahou Dan: “Even if the trigger was there then… when was the seed…”

Before the old Empress Dowager’s death, that woman was merely a palace consort who had never come into contact with him. Moreover, knowing the dangers of the palace, he had been extremely cautious from the day he had transmigrated.

Yu Wanyin: “What?”

Xiahou Dan came back to his senses: “Nothing. I was just wondering how the Empress Dowager planted the poison seed.”

Yu Wanyin: “That’s impossible to know now. Xie Yong’er said she poisoned your grandmother and birth mother—think about how many years ago that was.”

Oh, so that’s it.

Xiahou Dan suddenly had a moment of enlightenment.

It was said that his birth mother, Empress Cizhen, had an extremely difficult time giving birth to him and had been consistently ill afterward, passing away just two years later in the prime of her life.

So when did the Empress Dowager poison Empress Cizhen?

When she administered the poison… would she have been kind enough to avoid the pregnancy?

Xiahou Dan couldn’t help but laugh.

Yu Wanyin was startled: “What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing.” Xiahou Dan’s smile was filled with desolation, though it didn’t manifest in his voice. “This tyrant is unfortunate.”

So his caution had been meaningless from the very beginning. Even earlier, before his birth, this character’s fate had already been fully composed.