Part 1: Desolate City
The setting sun’s light poured down like thick blood on a battlefield, streaming from Chengqian Palace into Cuixin Hall. The light and shadows intertwined, enveloping this swaying imperial court. A sharp whistling arrow suddenly sliced through the air above the city wall, instantly piercing Shu Bai’s eardrums. She raised her head to look westward. The sun hung like a plate, casting blood-red light upon her porcelain-white forehead, faintly emanating a chilling air, just like this murky dusk, making one feel ice-cold in the chest.
All the imperial consorts had gathered here. The palace gates were thrown wide open, with gold and jade vessels scattered across the floor. The cyan-colored curtains danced in the wind, resembling soul-summoning spirit banners guiding the way. Gu Jin’an held a war blade against a palace maid’s neck. His phoenix eyes narrowed as he smiled wickedly, saying, “Shu Bai, do you truly refuse?”
More than ten palace maids and eunuchs already lay sprawled on the ground, all servants of Cuixin Hall. Shu Bai’s face was pale, her cheeks tinged blue, her hands trembling beneath her sleeves, yet she still bit her lip firmly.
“Your Highness, Qin’er is not afraid,” Tao Qin shook her head. Her pale little face forced a smile, ignoring the bloodied blade at her neck as she bowed deeply to the ground. “I can no longer serve Your Highness. Please take care of yourself.”
With a swooshing sound, a stream of blood shot skyward. The sharp blade pierced through her chest, and Tao Qin’s tiny body swayed slightly before collapsing to the ground.
It felt as if a giant club had struck Guan Shu Bai’s head violently. A dull pain filled her chest, like a knife stabbing into her heart, twisting viciously, grinding ruthlessly, turning her internal organs to pulp. Her throat tasted of blood, her eyes bloodshot, barely able to see anything.
Gu Jin’an lowered his blade. Blood droplets slid from the edge and fell onto his boots. He stood in the depths of the great hall, wearing cyan iron armor and a pitch-black cloak. His armor was stained with blood, his eyes cold and dark as he stared fixedly at her, devoid of any trace of his former gentle elegance. With a smile on his lips but not in his eyes, he asked, “Guan Shu Bai, do you want all these people to perish with you?”
His war blade casually swept through the air, pointing at all the palace women behind him. The imperial consorts immediately became alarmed. Lady Meng dropped to her knees with a thud, trembling as she cried, “Noble Consort, save me!”
Consort Tian wept bitterly, “Your Highness, even if you don’t pity us, please consider His Majesty’s bloodline.”
Princess Jinghe huddled in her arms, crying softly, her small face ashen. Her left hand had been wounded by a stray arrow, bleeding profusely, yet she bit her lip and dared not make a sound.
Her heart twisted in agony. She stared at Princess Jinghe’s young face. Jinghe seemed to understand something, biting her lip and extending her delicate white hands to timidly tug at her sleeve. “Mother Consort Rong, please save Jing’er.”
A wisp of white smoke curled upward from the incense burner, winding past the ornate beams and rafters, meandering toward the dimming sky. Shu Bai suddenly recalled that day in this very room. After her miscarriage, in her grief and distress, he had placed that object in her hands and told her, “I entrust my life and the nation’s lifeline to you. From now on, you must protect not only yourself but also me.”
Her breath congealed, like tiny knives scraping her throat. She brushed away Jinghe’s hand with a sweep, biting her tongue hard, almost spitting blood. Rebels stepped forward immediately, war blades cutting through the night air with a hum, severing blood vessels. Consort Tian stared blankly at the headless Jinghe in her arms, then let out a horrific wolf-like shriek. The sound was so heart-rending, like a summoning death spirit, making Shu Bai’s entire body tremble.
All the imperial consorts screamed in unison. Noble Lady Chang shrieked wildly, covering her face as she turned to flee, only to have her legs severed by a soldier’s blade at the door. Her blood splattered like a broken melon onto Shu Bai’s dress, bright red and searing like boiling water.
Lady Meng stared wide-eyed, covering her mouth as if unable to believe what was happening before her. She crawled backward repeatedly, muttering like a mad woman, “You’re all insane, you’re all insane!”
“You vicious whore!” Consort Tian’s eyes were bloodshot. She sprang up, her blood-soaked hands seizing Shu Bai’s neck, screaming ferociously, “Give me back my child! Give me back my child!”
Gu Jin’an’s brow darkened as he swung his war blade with a swoosh. Consort Tian screamed in agony as both her hands were severed at the wrists. She writhed and wailed on the ground. The onlookers were horrified, retreating in disarray, covering their mouths in grief. Gu Jin’an brushed away the severed hands from Shu Bai’s neck, took out a snow-white handkerchief from his waist, and tenderly wiped her face. Leaning close to her ear, he whispered, “No wonder you refused to save them. They are so vicious to you. Very well, let me help you kill them all.”
A resounding slap echoed throughout the hall as Guan Shu Bai struck Gu Jin’an’s face with all her might.
Gu Jin’an stepped back, showing no anger. He merely touched the side of his face where he had been struck and smiled coldly.
Noble Lady Li had been standing behind everyone, but now she could no longer endure. With a thud, she knelt before Gu Jin’an, kowtowing as she said, “General, spare my life. I know where the military tally is.”
Gu Jin’an raised an eyebrow: “Where is it?”
Guan Shu Bai was startled, then heard Noble Lady Li say, “I once saw Noble Consort Rong place it in…”
Suddenly, the last ray of sunlight pierced through the clouds, its brilliance hurting the eyes. A woman in an imperial yellow phoenix robe lunged forward, knocking Noble Lady Li to the ground. The rebels swarmed in, their fists and feet merciless, kicking the woman away in just a few blows. They found a phoenix hairpin embedded in Noble Lady Li’s throat. She spat blood, her eyes rolled back, convulsed a few times, and then died.
The Empress had been kicked in the chest by the rebels. Blood flowed from the corner of her mouth, which she wiped away with her sleeve before coldly saying, “Useless waste, better dead and clean.”
Several rebels rushed forward, grabbing her hair and lifting her. She raised her phoenix eyes and said coldly, “I am the Empress of the Great Yan Dynasty! How dare you treat me this way?”
Perhaps intimidated by her bearing, the soldier released his grip and stepped back slightly, then felt embarrassed and delivered a violent slap to her face. The Empress lost teeth, her cheeks swollen, yet still stubbornly held her head high. She said to Guan Shu Bai, “Guan Shu Bai, if you hand the military tally to him, I’ll never forgive you, even in death!”
Guan Shu Bai’s eyes grew hot. She turned her head and felt the Empress’s gaze so intense, like the scorching midday sun of July or August, blazing upon her. Struggling to suppress the choke in her throat, she said firmly, “Rest assured, I will never do so.”
The Empress smiled desolately, scanning the many consorts in the hall, saying lightly, “After contending with you all these years, in the end, only you are somewhat worthy of respect. These cowardly creatures simply disgust me.”
She turned to face Gu Jin’an, laughing coldly, “Do you think you’ve won?”
Gu Jin’an raised his eyebrow, about to speak, when the Empress suddenly smashed her head against a hall pillar. In an instant, red and white splattered everywhere, creating a mess on the floor. Only her resentful final wail still echoed in the hall, vengeful like a malevolent ghost: “Gu Jin’an! You will surely die a miserable death!”
The night wind blew in, dispersing the bloody smell that filled the room. Gu Jin’an beckoned slightly, and men came forward to restrain all the imperial consorts in the hall. Shu Bai felt only cold, a chill that penetrated her bones. Gu Jin’an stood amid the corpses, smiling as he said, “Shu Bai, do you love him so much? That you’re not even afraid of death?”
Shu Bai’s eyes were dark and gloomy as she looked down at her shoes. Blood spread upward from the floor, scalding hot. Gu Jin’an’s voice turned cold, with a hint of malicious glee: “You love him so much, but are you certain he loves you the same? In imperial affections, how much is true and how much is false?”
Shu Bai raised her head, her eyes sweeping past his iron armor and cloak, her features utterly cold: “Winner takes all, loser suffers all. There’s no point in saying more, Gu Jin’an. I have fallen into your hands today; do with me as you will, kill me if you wish. But if you think you can get the garrison military tally from me, I advise you to abandon that hope early.”
Gu Jin’an laughed heartily, pushing her to the ground, staring coldly at her: “Fine, I won’t kill you. When I capture him, I’ll let you watch him die with your own eyes.”
He sheathed his sword and strode through the dark palace gates. The night was as black as ink. The majestic palace had fallen into a sea of flames. Fire blazed everywhere, as if ferocious beasts had emerged from underground, rampaging through this night filled with demons and monsters.
Guan Shu Bai sat in the pool of blood as rebels came to bind her. She turned her head to see someone dragging the Empress’s legs, stumbling out. This once most noble woman still had her eyes wide open, her head covered in blood, dirty dust smeared on her temples, ashen gray like the frost beyond the Great Wall.
Part 2: Imprisonment
The night was as cold as water. The moon cast flickering shadows, reflecting a ghastly white patch on the ground like a pale ghost’s face.
Guan Shu Bai slumped in a corner of the prison cell. Moonlight streamed through the narrow skylight, illuminating her face with a dismal gray-white pallor. Her white robe was stained with blood, her back clothing tattered, displaying hideous whip marks. Most terrifying was the fine chain piercing through her shoulder blades, causing purple blood to seep out with the slightest movement. The chain was crafted with great delicacy, about the thickness of a thumb, engraved with intricate patterns, and adorned with silver bells that jingled softly with any movement, the clear sound echoing in the deathly silent prison cell.
Gu Jin’an had been inside for a long time. Though it was raining outside, it was still August and not particularly cold. Yet he wore a black cloak and deerskin-lined boots. If not for his exceedingly pale face, he would have made a handsome figure.
He stood there, silently watching Guan Shu Bai. The prison door was wide open; only a few steps separated them. In his twenty-some years of life, he had never been this close to her. The night breeze blew in, carrying the distinctive dampness of the prison, lifting his hair and making his face appear even more eerily white.
“Does it hurt?”
Guan Shu Bai neither looked at him nor spoke. He removed his coat and walked slowly to her, draping it over her shoulders. Seeing the chains in her shoulder blades, he smiled faintly and gently touched them. “The day the Gu clan was exterminated, I was strung up like this too, crawling like a dog through Changxing Gate, watching my clansmen die by the blade. I know, it’s very painful.”
Seeing that Guan Shu Bai would not speak, Gu Jin’an smiled gently and embraced her tenderly, saying, “Xiao Bai, I don’t want to hurt you, but you’re too stubborn. I have no choice.”
“I won’t give you the military tally,” Guan Shu Bai weakly laughed coldly, saying faintly, “You should give up that idea.”
“Who says I came for that?”
Gu Jin’an raised an eyebrow slightly, his fingers caressing Guan Shu Bai’s chapped lips, whispering, “I remember when you were little, you feared thunderstorms the most. Now with thunder and rain outside, I’ve come to be with you.”
As he spoke, he lowered his head and kissed Guan Shu Bai’s neck. Guan Shu Bai raised her hand in disgust to strike him, but Gu Jin’an grabbed the chain in her shoulder blades and pulled it gently. Guan Shu Bai immediately felt her limbs weaken with pain. She screamed in agony as large beads of sweat rolled down her temples. Gu Jin’an captured her lips, swallowing her cries of pain. One hand held the chain while the other deftly undid her clothing, his palm seizing her snow-white breasts as he chuckled softly, “Xiao Bai, does he kiss you like this as well?”
“Get out!”
Guan Shu Bai cursed hoarsely, in such pain, that she nearly fainted. Her eyes were red, yet she still endured without shedding a tear.
Gu Jin’an’s fingers circled her abdomen before finally lifting her skirt, reaching downward.
“He has so many women, how could he attend to you? On such thunderous rainy nights, who embraces you?”
Cloth tore. Gu Jin’an chuckled and covered Guan Shu Bai’s soft, snow-white body.
The flickering light cast a dim, gloomy glow. Gu Jin’an’s eyes were blood-red like those of a fierce beast as he flogged and took from Guan Shu Bai’s body. Guan Shu Bai bit her lip firmly, refusing to make a sound, her limbs struggling desperately, but how could she break free? She could only let more blood flow, turning purple-black like crushed rose juice.
It was like a nightmare, indescribable. The sound of bodies colliding rose decadently in the air, one after another, like a lingchi execution tearing apart one’s senses. Guan Shu Bai’s resistance grew increasingly feeble, and her eyes began to turn hollow. Her long hair was tangled in the dirty soil, stained with blood, exuding a salty odor.
After what seemed an eternity, Gu Jin’an finally let out a satisfied groan. At the height of pleasure, he kissed Guan Shu Bai’s bloodied lips, laughing softly, “Xiao Bai, you are finally mine. Are you happy?”
Gu Jin’an contentedly kissed her, took out a bottle of medicine, and carefully applied it to her wounds. He dressed her again, covered her with his cloak, and then sat down to chat with her.
He talked at length, mostly about their childhood. He spoke of the weather then, their friends, and mischievous antics, his tone so cheerful, like that of a seventeen or eighteen-year-old youth. Finally, he laid her on the ground, pinched her nose, indulgently, smiling as he said, “Wait a little longer. After I kill him with my own hands, I’ll come take you home.”
Then he left, finally left. His footsteps grew fainter, so distant that eventually they couldn’t be heard, as if he would never return.
Guan Shu Bai still lay there silently, motionless and speechless, showing no reaction. Everything around was so quiet, with only the sound of the tiny bells at her shoulder blades tinkling, echoing faintly, making the surroundings seem all the more vast.
She lay there, seemingly deaf to all external sounds, feeling only that this night was so long as if a lifetime had passed. She knew this day would come, had known it since the day the rebels breached the palace gates. Did she feel humiliated? Disgusted? Or so filthy that she wanted to die?
“Hehe…”
Guan Shu Bai laughed coldly, but the sound was hoarse and terrifying, like that of an eighty-year-old crone.
Truly filthy, filthy to the core.
She closed her eyes, her eye sockets burning, scorching hot, so dry that no tears would flow. She just wanted to lie there, die there, and bury all this filthy, disgusting, base, vile—everything—in this murky night!
She bit her lip so hard, almost biting through it.
If it were someone else, what would they do? Cry and weep? Be devastated? Curse loudly? Or smash their head against a stone, like the Empress, dying cleanly and decisively?
But she couldn’t die yet.
He was still waiting for her. If she died, what would become of him?
She moved her numb hand, turning her wrist, revealing a sheathed dagger hidden in the withered grass, with a small character “An” engraved on the hilt, visible in the moonlight.
She sat up, holding the dagger, and began to laugh coldly.
Guan Shu Bai walked to the prison door and struck the chain with the dagger. The lock broke immediately, truly cutting through iron like mud.
Outside the cell, jailers lay sprawled everywhere, clearly drugged. How could someone like him let others witness his shameful act? Guan Shu Bai laughed coldly as she walked past, and no one stirred.
She leaned weakly against the prison door, gasping lightly, her throat sour, the strong smell of blood making her nauseous. She pressed her abdomen, her expression inadvertently softening. He had just left when she discovered she was with child. Having already lost one child due to palace intrigue, she was more cautious this time. Moreover, with him absent from the palace and her deadly rivalry with the Empress, to protect herself and this child, she had concealed all news. Besides a few confidants in her palace chambers, no one knew—only to find herself in such a predicament.
“Don’t be afraid,” she said softly. “Mother will protect you.”
The night breeze blew, lifting Guan Shu Bai’s dark hair. She took a deep breath: “I will protect you.”
Part 3: Nightmare
It began to rain in the evening, with fine, dense raindrops making soft sounds on the glazed tiles. The night rain was cold and damp, with a chill in the air. Qiu Cheng brought Meng Suxin a brocade robe with white fox fur embroidered on the cuffs and lit charcoal, yet still couldn’t dispel the paleness from her face. Qiu Cheng sent someone to the small kitchen to brew a bowl of ginger soup, brought it to her, and said, “Your Highness, please drink a little. With such a poor complexion, His Majesty will be worried when he sees you.”
Meng Suxin lowered her head, the soup’s color making her expression appear dim. She gently rubbed her temple with her fingers, saying softly, “I heard the Empress died terribly, her skull shattered. Noble Lady Chang had both feet severed, Consort Tian lost both hands, and even Princess Jinghe died—such a small child, yet decapitated. Those people are truly ruthless.”
Qiu Cheng frowned and said, “Which thoughtless wretch told Your Highness such things? Don’t they know Your Highness is with child? They truly deserve severe punishment!”
Meng Suxin replied, “With only me left in the entire palace now if they don’t speak to me, who else would they tell? Tomorrow we must perform memorial rites at Chongming Hall, so I needed to know.”
Qiu Cheng pulled the blanket up for Meng Suxin and said, “Your Highness should think less about these matters. Didn’t the Imperial Physician say Your Highness’s excessive worry has caused instability in the fetus? Your Highness is carrying a prince now; if not for yourself, please consider the child in your belly. Forgive this servant’s insolence, but now that the Empress is gone, Noble Consort Rong has disappeared, and the other consorts are either injured or ill. Even though Consort Liang, Consort Hui, and Noble Lady Xian remained unharmed, after being imprisoned by the rebels for so long, their purity is compromised—they certainly cannot remain in the palace. Your Highness is now the only proper mistress left in the palace. Besides the fact that you’re with child, your father and two uncles have rendered great service in suppressing this rebellion. Not to mention His Majesty’s affection for you over these years—there are still many good days ahead. Has Your Highness forgotten? When you were a young lady, the monk Huiming at Kunlun Temple said you were destined for great fortune. Now it seems Your Highness’s blessings are all yet to come.”
Meng Suxin laughed softly and said quietly, “His Majesty has indeed been good to me. If not for him secretly arranging people to keep me by his side this time, I might not have escaped misfortune.”
The night rain fell densely, knocking down a tree of pear blossoms in the courtyard. Fine incense burned in the room, filling it with tranquil fragrance. She gently stroked the arrow pattern on her sleeve and continued, “I wonder where Noble Consort Rong has gone. She’s from a military family and has some martial skills. I think she truly escaped.”
“Even if she escaped, what then? The Guan family has fallen. Even if she returns safely, with her temperament, she simply won’t be tolerated. Besides, when the rebels entered the city, amid the chaos of war, how far could she go as a mere woman? In this servant’s opinion, Your Highness is too kind-hearted. Noble Consort Rong was arrogant and domineering; we’ve suffered much from her over the years.”
Meng Suxin shook her head and said, “She comes from a prestigious family and is the eldest legitimate daughter. It’s natural for her to be somewhat willful. Besides, she never truly bullied me. His Majesty favored her to secure the loyalty of the Guan family.”
Qiu Cheng smiled and said, “This servant doesn’t know about others, but I know His Majesty favored her to divert attention, to protect Your Highness. No matter how proud she was, all these years she was merely a decoy. His Majesty loves Your Highness deeply, truly from the bottom of his heart.”
Meng Suxin chuckled, about to scold her for her glib tongue, when suddenly a whip cracked outside the hall. Qiu Cheng sprang up, saying, “His Majesty has arrived! Let me help Your Highness change.”
The Emperor wore a bright yellow cloak, with rain still hanging from its hem and a strong damp smell on his body. Seeing the dark circles under his eyes, Meng Suxin knew he hadn’t slept well last night. Feeling heartache, she reached out to touch his face, saying softly, “No matter how busy state affairs are, you should mind your health. Your Majesty’s eyes are dark with fatigue.”
The Emperor held her slender fingers and asked, “Why are you still awake so late?”
She raised her eyes to look at him steadily, smiling gently, “I missed Your Majesty.”
The Emperor smiled and embraced her, “I missed you too.”
The couple had some late-night snacks and talked for a while before retiring to bed. A young palace maid crouched at the corner of the bed, lifting the incense burner, about to withdraw. The Emperor suddenly stopped and gave her a look. Meng Suxin, noticing his unusual expression, hurriedly asked, “What is Your Majesty looking at?”
The Emperor didn’t answer her but instead asked the maid, “You weren’t from Lianxi Palace before.”
The maid was startled and quickly knelt, replying, “In response to Your Majesty, this servant previously served in Cuixin Hall.”
The Emperor silently gazed at her, his eyes calm, with a fleeting glimmer passing through them. Then he suddenly turned away and entered the bed chamber without another word. Meng Suxin bit her lip slightly, dismissed everyone, and followed him in. Just then, hurried footsteps were heard outside, and Chief Eunuch Chang Xi urgently called from the door, “Your Majesty, Noble Consort Rong has returned.”
With a whoosh, the Emperor threw back the bed curtains and strode out. His face turned deathly pale. The room’s lights flickered with a warm orange glow but falling on his face, they seemed like bone-chilling water in the spring rain. He frowned deeply and asked in a grave voice, “Where is she?”
“Just outside the palace gates.”
“Is she… well?”
Chang Xi lowered his head, “The Noble Consort came with a blade.”
The Emperor was silent for a moment, then said, “Take her to Cuixin Hall first. Order that she not be harmed.”
Chang Xi secretly glanced at Meng Suxin standing behind the Emperor and said softly, “Your Majesty, Noble Consort Rong is with child. The guards dare not approach her for fear of harming her. She insists on seeing Your Majesty and refuses to enter the palace.”
The Emperor’s expression changed drastically, “Pregnant?”
Chang Xi naturally knew what he was asking and quickly said, “Yes, her belly is quite large, and appears to be six months along.”
The Emperor said no more, immediately striding out of the palace gates. Qiu Cheng hurried forward to support Meng Suxin’s arm.
“Let’s go see her.”
“Your Highness?”
Meng Suxin put on her cloak and repeated, “I want to see her.”
A fierce wind blew against her face, like tiny knives. She bent over on horseback, controlling the reins with all her might. Her hair streamed behind her like seaweed. Thin and frail, she galloped wildly. The night wind was icy cold. The vast square was deathly silent, with only the crisp, rhythmic sound of horse hooves echoing against the four walls. Guards ahead heard the noise and rode forward, drawing swords and shouting, “Who goes there?”
Guan Shu Bai swept her cloak aside and leaped from the horse. The fierce wind blew her hair open, revealing her pale face.
How could the palace guards not recognize her? They were stunned on the spot. She drew her sword in one swift motion. The war blade was extremely heavy, dragged in her hand like a piece of cold black iron, dimly reflecting the brilliant palace lights. She walked very quickly, apparently wounded somewhere, as a trail of fresh blood stretched behind her, looking alarming.
“Get out of my way.”
She spoke slowly and deliberately, her voice hoarse beyond recognition. Her pale wrist held the blade level, its edge sharp like a beast’s teeth.
“Move aside!”
She repeated in a low voice. The attendants, seeing fresh blood flowing from between her legs, pooling into a purple-black puddle on the ground that seemed to never stop, trembled with fear and pleaded, “Your Highness, please return to the palace for medical attention. His Majesty is currently holding court in Yangxin Hall and cannot be disturbed for the moment. We have already sent someone to report this. Your Highness must not harm yourself.”
With a whoosh, fireworks burst into the night sky, brilliant in red and purple, instantly adorning this night with even more splendor. Cries of joy like flowing water came from within the palace walls, the tones filled with intense happiness as if the bloodshed and slaughter from months before had never existed.
Guan Shu Bai’s face instantly grew even paler. She tilted her head back, blue veins protruding from her white neck. She took a deep breath and dragged her sword toward Yangxin Hall. A guard tried to stop her, but she shouted in anger, swinging her blade and cutting him down. Blood sprayed as the man cried out in pain and retreated. The other guards drew their swords in threatening gestures, but to their surprise, she neither dodged nor retreated, charging forward as if bent on death. The guards were in disarray. For a full five years, who didn’t know the extent of the Emperor’s favor toward this consort? Now that she had come with a sword, who dared to truly harm her?
Shu Bai kicked open the palace doors and strode in. Her lower body was covered in blood, and she swayed with every step, yet she still dragged her sword forward, stumbling ahead.
Gradually, palace servants discovered her, exclaiming in alarm as they surrounded her. She ignored them, swinging her blade and wounding several people before they fearfully retreated to a distance. The more quick-witted ones ran into the palace to report, the announcements winding like a long Mongolian tune into the inner court. Palace lamps shone brilliantly, coiling like long dragons. Gradually, everyone gathered to watch this woman in blood-soaked clothes dragging a sword, and no one dared to speak.
“Noble Consort, His Majesty commands you to await him at Cuixin Hall.”
A large contingent of guards surrounded her, a mass of black, firmly blocking her path. Guan Shu Bai stopped, the night wind blowing against her, lifting her blood-stained dress hem like a white silk flower splashed with cinnabar. She looked coldly at everyone and uttered one icy word: “Move!”
The guard captain stepped forward, bowing respectfully, “Your Highness, please don’t make it difficult for this humble servant.”
“Move!”
Guan Shu Bai, in extreme anger, raised her sword to advance. The guard captain frowned, blocking her with his sheathed sword without drawing it. Shu Bai had only practiced some basic martial arts for physical fitness; how could she compare to these military men? Her tiger’s mouth (the webbing between thumb and forefinger) trembled, her body swayed, and she nearly fell. Yet she wasn’t discouraged, trying to bypass him to continue forward, but other soldiers came with staff to block her path.
The captain said sternly, “Your Highness if you defy the imperial order, this humble servant will have to be discourteous.”
Guan Shu Bai clenched her teeth, seemingly deaf to his words, and continued to charge forward. The captain’s eyes hardened as he swung his sheath, striking her leg. With a crack, Shu Bai stumbled and fell to her knees. Her lower body was already bleeding profusely, and this blow made it worse. Yet one hand still gripped the sword as she struggled to stand.
“Commander Meng, His Majesty ordered not to harm her!”
Seeing Guan Shu Bai injured, the attendants cried out in alarm. Commander Meng frowned slightly, thinking of his younger sister’s endurance over these years and the future honor or shame of the Meng family. Darkness flashed in his eyes as he said, “Noble Consort Rong has defied the imperial order, wielding a sword to force her way into the palace. As the commander of the imperial guards, I must offend.”
Guan Shu Bai remained silent, only gritting her teeth, her neck stubbornly raised, staring at the magnificent palace ahead as if in a nightmare, completely insensitive to anything around her.
“Escort the Noble Consort back to her palace.”
Guards came forward to seize Guan Shu Bai. She struggled fiercely, swinging her sword wildly. The soldiers grew impatient, forcibly pressing her down, and pushing her pale face against the dirty ground. Guan Shu Bai’s eyes were bloodshot, her legs thrashing, her thighs purplish-red. Commander Meng looked, and the guards pinned her down, dragging her toward Cuixin Hall.
“Let me go!”
Guan Shu Bai was dragged by her arms like a dead dog, yet she still struggled, as if possessed. The lights before her were dazzling, almost blinding her eyes. What were those people saying? The Emperor, wise and divine, had foreseen the three provinces’ disloyalty, ostensibly organizing a hunt but secretly deploying troops to eliminate Gu Jin’an and the three provincial kings of the southwest. She had escaped from the capital with her life hanging by a thread, hiding in the mountains under Gu Jin’an’s pursuit, fleeing for three months over mountains and ridges to reach the garrison, only to find it empty, the military tally in her possession a fake.
And when she finally returned to the capital with great difficulty, she learned that her maternal clan, her father who had fought for Great Yan all his life, had been charged with colluding with the enemy, and the entire family had been slaughtered!
And three days later would be the Empress’s enthronement ceremony!
Guan Shu Bai, you fool! Did you truly think he liked you? Open your eyes and see—who sits by his side now?
Who sits by his side now?
Who? Who? His Empress? Hadn’t the Empress died? Died right before her eyes, smashing her head against a pillar, dying cleanly and decisively. Then who could it be? Who is his Empress?
She felt as if her heart was being gnawed by ten thousand ants, such pain, such despair. She wished she could cut out her heart and throw it away, which would be better than this pain like slow slicing!
Everything before her suddenly blurred. In the haze, she recalled that day when he stood in the square, backed by vast darkness, holding her hand and saying, “Xiao Bai, in this world, I only have you now.”
He said he only had her.
Yes, he only had her, and she only had him. They had promised to face everything together—danger, hardship, difficulty, desperate situations. They had vowed never to betray or abandon each other. She had fled thousands of miles, surviving countless perils, just to see him once more, to be with him until the end. What had she done wrong? What misunderstanding had occurred between them? Where had things gone wrong?
If not, if all this was true, then at this moment, in that resplendent palace, who was standing by his side?
Who!
Her limbs were numb, almost turning into a sculpture. Her throat was filled with the rusty sweetness of blood. Her eyes were blood-red, her throat as if stuffed with lead, choking, gasping, until finally, broken like a beast’s howl, she cried out in despair and anguish: “Yan Lin! Come out and face me!”
Just one cry, yet it silenced everyone. She spat fresh blood as if this one cry had exhausted all her strength. She stared fixedly at the palace gate, her black hair wild, each breath carrying blood foam, her face ashen, like a vengeful ghost.
“Release her.”
Part 4: Shattered Jade
A voice quietly sounded from the distant palace gate, where the lights were so bright they made one dizzy. But Guan Shu Bai seemed instantly paralyzed, staring intently, her wrists hidden in her wide sleeves trembling violently, like a dying patient, without a trace of strength left.
A figure in bright yellow appeared even more magnificent under the many lights. Dozens of palace attendants and guards carefully served on both sides, surrounding him like stars around the moon, elegant and distinguished, standing out from the crowd. And at his side, a figure in light pink stood gracefully, her fingers white as jade, timidly yet firmly grasping a piece of his sleeve.
It was like a drowning person desperately grabbing at a floating log, spending every effort, using all their strength, and finally grasping it in hand, only to discover that the log was a venomous water snake.
A salty sweetness surged from her throat, but her consciousness suddenly became clear.
This woman, she was not unfamiliar. It seemed from the day she entered the palace, that this person had already been living there. Named Meng Suxin, she was reportedly just a menial maid who, through a coincidence, gained favor but was only granted a very low rank, with nothing more afterward. For so many years, while the imperial harem was filled with competition, and struggles of life and death, no one ever noticed this quiet woman who had no children, no title, no strong family background, and not even the Emperor’s favor.
A great darkness swirled before her eyes. Guan Shu Bai wanted to laugh but couldn’t.
Well done, what brilliant scheming!
The guards had withdrawn, leaving her standing alone. Behind her was the black palace wall, like a towering green mountain range, standing majestically there, cutting off all hopes of this life like a guillotine. Her white clothes were now blood-red, with a trail of blood winding beneath her in a grotesque pattern, purple-black as ink. It was her six-month-old fetus, finally leaving her on this absurdly ridiculous night. Her face was as white as paper, yet her cheeks flushed with a sickly red. The wounds at her shoulder blades had reopened, with fresh blood flowing steadily. As if unable to bear the sight of this wretched scene, she raised her left hand to cover her eyes, yet large tears fell through her fingers.
All these years of passionate love had ultimately become a joke. All the vows, mountains, and seas, were nothing but precise calculations and exploitation.
Guan Shu Bai, Guan Shu Bai, aren’t you awake yet?
She laughed coldly, her face pale as a ghost, yet her eyes glowed with intimidating light. The smile at the corner of her lips gradually widened, finally bursting into mad laughter, tears falling with the laughter, laughing at her self-deception, laughing at her wishful thinking, laughing at her incredible foolishness!
“Yan Lin! How could I have believed you?”
Her eyes grew cold, yet her lips still smiled as she articulated each word in a hoarse, grievous, ghost-like voice: “How could I have believed you?”
The Emperor stood there, his eyes like black obsidian, deep as water, seemingly transparent, yet containing all emotions, without even the slightest ripple visible. She had once been so enamored with these eyes, but now looking at them, she felt only bone-chilling cold, almost freezing her blood. This handsome, wickedly beautiful man, this man she had loved and trusted for so many years!
“Life is like chess, once a move is made, there’s no taking it back. Xiao Bai, you’ve lost.”
A gentle, mild voice, like a calm autumn lake, quietly sounded on this cold, desolate night. Yan Lin stood there, looking at the blood-soaked woman, speaking plainly.
Such familiar words. He had always enjoyed chess, whether in court politics or bedroom play. She had studied hard to play with him during his leisure time. She always lost and often complained after losing, and he would always tell her gently, “No taking back moves, you’ve lost.”
Once such sweet memories, but now recalling them brought knife-like pain. Guan Shu Bai stared at him intensely, the whites of her eyes bloodshot, gritting her teeth as she asked softly, “Why?”
Yan Lin replied, “The time was right, the place was right, and the person was right.”
Like a guillotine suddenly severing all signs of life, at this moment, all memories shattered with a crash, transforming into thousands upon thousands of sharp arrows, instantly piercing that last trace of stubbornness. Blood pooled in her chest, unable to be expelled, like a heavy hammer striking her internal organs, a deep, profound, dull pain.
So it was just this simple—no reason, no conspiracy. She had merely appeared before him at the right time and place, coincidentally becoming a suitable chess piece. She helped the Emperor conceal his strength, and balance the imperial harem, making outsiders believe he was indulging in beauty and lowering his guard, while attracting all hostile gazes, protecting his true beloved from harem conflicts so she could safely wait for him to take control of the situation.
Just that, nothing more.
“Why was it me?” she asked.
He was silent for a moment, then said faintly, “The Guan family’s power was sufficient to counterbalance the Gu family.”
Yes, before she entered the palace, the most favored was Gu Jin’an’s sister, Gu Lanjin. The Gu family was headed by a prince of different surname who had harbored disloyal intentions. After she entered the palace, she fought against Gu Lanjin and eventually brought her down. Her father had also helped him remove the Gu family thorn from his side in court.
How long ago was that? So long that she had almost forgotten.
She clutched her chest, the abdominal pain now numb. That was her child, the one she had yearned for through countless days and nights, drinking bitter medicines to finally conceive. She still remembered losing her first child the same way. The Gu family had fallen, yet he hadn’t killed Gu Lanjin, only lowering her rank. But that woman wasn’t content and pushed her down a high flight of stairs during a small banquet. She had been terrified, desperately clutching her belly as she tumbled down the tall steps. Her head was split open, bleeding profusely, but she didn’t care at all. The sun was scorching that day, shining brightly on her face. Though it was so warm, she felt cold and trembling. So many people gathered around, yet not one could save her child.
That child ultimately died. She woke on the rainy night, crying in despair. At that time, Gu Lanjin was also pregnant, her belly full, almost ready to give birth. The Empress Dowager did not punish her for this but instead settled her in the Cold Palace. When she learned of this, she flew into a rage, drew her sword, and rushed to the Cold Palace, ending Gu Lanjin’s life with one strike. With that, except for Gu Jin’an who had escaped, the entire Gu clan was exterminated—not one survived. When the Empress Dowager learned of this, she was furious, accusing her of abusing imperial favor and plotting against the imperial bloodline, sending her to the Imperial Clan Court for legal punishment. When he received the news, he rushed from court, carrying her out of the Imperial Clan Court. His brows were furrowed tightly, lips pressed, holding her firmly, repeating over and over, “We will have children again.”
We will have children again!
Yes, finally there was one, but he had used it as bait and personally killed it!
Looking back now, everything from those years was just a predetermined play. The Gu family had fallen, and Gu Lanjin could not be allowed to live. The child in her belly likewise could not be allowed to live, even though that child also carried his blood.
After her miscarriage, she was physically weak, yet on her way to the Cold Palace with a sword in hand, not a single person stopped her. Could it be that he had used her hand to eliminate both Gu Lanjin and the trouble in her womb?
He was so ruthless, even toward his wife and child.
Of course, after all, he had so many wives, and so many people eagerly waiting to bear his children.
He had spent five years setting up this scheme, first removing the Gu family, and then cutting down the Guan clan. In today’s battle, she was a pawn, as was Gu Jin’an, who had escaped the net years ago. What he truly aimed for were the three provincial kings of the southwest. With this campaign, three of the five provincial kings had been eliminated. The reduction of provincial powers was inevitable; no one could stop his steps now.
When the heart aches to numbness, does one stop feeling pain? But why did she still feel the hurt, so painful that she wanted to follow the Empress’s example, wishing to smash her head against something and die?
She raised her head, feeling that this life was utterly ridiculous. All that she had been devoted to, all that she had insisted upon, turned out to be wrong.
She crouched down to pick up her knife, but it was too heavy. She swayed several times, unable to succeed. The guards watched her warily as if fearing this barely breathing woman might suddenly rise and harm their monarch.
With her slightest movement, more blood flowed from her body. The knife tip scraped the ground, emitting a piercing screech. The guards tensely surrounded her, separating her from the Emperor. All around were bright red torches, as if they might set the sky ablaze. Cold sword edges were pointed at her in rows; any slight movement would reduce her to pieces.
Meng Suxin was uneasy, her brow tightly furrowed, eyes glistening with tears, looking at her with some reluctance. Her fingers were slender and white like fine jade, lightly tugging at the Emperor’s sleeve, fingertips trembling, touching the Emperor’s long wrist.
The Emperor turned his head, comfortingly patted the back of her hand, then took her hand in his palm, stepping slightly forward to shield her behind him.
Just a small action, yet it almost shattered Shu Bai’s resolve to pieces. She felt large patches of darkness flashing before her eyes, dizzy to the point of nearly collapsing. She bit her tongue hard, almost biting it to bits, taking bloody steps forward, staring fixedly at Yan Lin, asking hoarsely, “I ask you just one thing—these years, everything, every day and night of our past, was it all false?”
Yan Lin’s brow creased slightly, but his expression remained calm. He stood there, behind him the brilliant lights, his radiance as dazzling as a deity, so noble and lofty as if everyone before him was as worthless as grass and dust.
After a long silence, he finally nodded slightly and uttered faintly, “Yes.”
Shu Bai’s throat tasted sweet as blood surged up. She suppressed it forcefully, swallowing it back. So it was all false—five years of affectionate days, without a trace of sincerity. A heart pierced by ten thousand arrows could be no worse than this. Guan Shu Bai had no wish to say more. She tilted her head toward the sky, feeling this night was bitterly cold.
“Xiao Bai, if you’re willing, you can remain by my side. I won’t mistreat you because of your father’s affairs. You will still be a mistress in this palace, still my Noble Consort. I can even elevate your rank if only you’re willing.”
Yan Lin looked at her, his expression softening slightly. He raised his wrist, exposing a section of slender bone, extending it toward her with a hint of expectation. Guan Shu Bai laughed coldly, finding his words ridiculous. She raised an eyebrow, revealing a smile of peerless beauty: “Elevate my rank? What rank does Your Majesty wish to give me? Imperial Noble Consort? Or Empress? If I become Empress, how will this lady by Your Majesty’s side be accommodated?”
“If you don’t wish to stay in the palace, then leave,” Yan Lin said, his eyes profound. A courtier nearby felt this improper and wanted to advise against it, but was stopped by him. “You once said you disliked the palace. I now release you.”
After speaking, Yan Lin no longer looked at Guan Shu Bai, turning to leave. “Chang Xi, escort her out of the palace.”
Chang Xi nodded in acknowledgment and stepped forward with his men. Guan Shu Bai’s gaze grew cold as she swung her blade to meet them, fighting in a suicidal manner. Chang Xi hurriedly ordered the guards not to harm her, but they couldn’t get close to her.
The clamor of voices and the clashing of weapons filled the air. Under the cold moon, in the brilliance of torchlight, swords, and blades like a forest were all pointed at the once most noble woman. Meng Suxin looked back in terror and saw Guan Shu Bai acting like a madwoman. Though she had lived in seclusion these years, she had heard rumors about her. Legend had it that Guan Shu Bai was shrewd, capable, and exceptionally intelligent. Who would have thought she’d be seeking death this way today? She turned to look at the Emperor and saw Yan Lin with cold eyes, staring straight ahead, as if deaf to everything behind him. But his grip on her hand was so strong, almost crushing her bones. This side of him was unfamiliar to her, making her feel anxious and afraid. She called to him softly, but he seemed completely unhearing, just pulling her step by step away, step by step up those cold white jade stairs.
“Your Highness! Your Highness! Leave! Don’t cut off your life path!”
Chang Xi shouted, but she no longer heard. Determined to die, her moves became more fierce, her blade like snow. In a moment, several guards were wounded by her sword. The guards grew desperate, drawing their swords to meet her. Blood immediately spattered.
Chang Xi was startled and about to intervene when suddenly a sharp cry came from behind: “Yan Lin! Hand over your life!”
Chang Xi turned to see a blue shadow leap out from the attendants, the sword light flickering like a swimming dragon, heading straight for the Emperor’s face!
“Protect the Emperor!”
“Protect His Majesty!”
Commander Meng turned ashen and rushed forward with a shout. Yan Lin frowned, dodging the blade, his hand forming a claw to grasp the sword’s edge. With a crack, he broke the blade, and with a reverse throw, embedded the broken sword in the assassin’s chest. The assassin was fierce, not uttering a sound, still wielding the half-broken sword as he rushed forward. This time, however, he didn’t target Yan Lin but headed straight for Meng Suxin!
“Ah!” Meng Suxin screamed in fear, covering her eyes as she fell to the ground. “Your Majesty, save me!”
“Wretch!” Yan Lin raged, flashing to shield Meng Suxin.
At that moment, several more figures leaped out from among the attendants, all exceptionally skilled, standing on the jade steps to block Commander Meng and his men. Guan Shu Bai’s eyes brightened. Taking advantage of the chaos, she rushed up the jade steps in a few strides, swinging her blade toward Yan Lin.
Another assassin rushed out to attack Meng Suxin. Yan Lin couldn’t protect both and received a wound on his arm. Yet he remained fearless, still smiling coldly as he countered the leader’s moves. The assassin grinned fiercely, throwing himself forward, suddenly not evading Yan Lin’s attacks at all, raising his broken sword to stab viciously, shouting, “Yan Lin! Die!”
“Your Majesty!”
“Your Majesty!”
“Your Highness!”
For a moment, all sounds seemed frozen. Yan Lin’s five fingers pierced like blades into the assassin’s chest, creating a gory hole! Yet the assassin seemed completely insensitive to pain, not even glancing at him, just staring wide-eyed at the woman shielding the Emperor. His broken sword had penetrated the woman’s heart, blood gushing out, scalding hot as it dripped onto his wrist.
The torchlight illuminated the assassin’s face—it was none other than the escaped Gu Jin’an. His face was covered in blood, brows furrowed deeply, his chest a bloody mess with his beating heart almost visible. He stepped back suddenly, laughing wildly with mockery, his bloody finger pointing straight at Yan Lin: “After how he treated you, you still save him?”
With that, he fell backward, lifeless.
The broken sword was pulled from Guan Shu Bai’s chest with a spurt of fresh blood. Her body went limp, about to fall to the ground, when Yan Lin caught her, holding her in his arms.
“Why?”
His eyes had darkened to the deepest night, without a trace of light. Guan Shu Bai was also stunned. She was not a coward; though resigned to death, she had hoped to kill him with her own hands for vengeance. When she rushed close and raised her knife, she still harbored such intentions, but when she saw Gu Jin’an’s sword heading toward him, her body seemed to react before her mind. She stood there, limbs trembling, face as pale as a ghost. Regret, shame, anger—all these emotions gripped her throat like a vengeful ghost’s claws. She was dumbfounded for a long time, her eyes reddening. She wanted to say something but suddenly began coughing, blood foam spattering her face. With her last breath, she said, “You deceived me… so… cruelly. How could I let you die… at another’s hand?”
Yan Lin’s narrow eyes narrowed fiercely as if something was going to burst out monstrously, yet he suppressed it forcefully. His breathing was heavy, his voice even deeper, no longer with its usual indifference, but cold to the extreme: “If you hate me, then kill me.”
Guan Shu Bai took a deep breath and struck his shoulder with her fist. But with such severe injuries, she had no strength left. Her punches were as light as cotton, while fresh blood flowed from her wounds with each effort. Yet she paid no heed, continuing to strike him again and again. As if finally realizing it was useless, she summoned all her strength to prop herself up, climbed onto his shoulder, and bit down hard on the left side of his neck.
She bit so fiercely, so forcefully that a line of blood droplets fell from his neck, disappearing into her cloud-like hair.
Finally, she released her bite, as if even this little strength was gone.
“I’m dying… Yan Lin, I can’t kill you now.”
Her voice sounded softly by his ear, her lips pale, moving slowly, just like the delicate kisses during every day and night of those five years. A very faint, bitter smile remained on her lips. Her wrist fell lifelessly onto the cold jade steps.
The square was deadly silent. For a long time, no one dared speak a word. Meng Suxin got up from the ground, and walked to the Emperor’s side, her fingers trembling as she touched his sleeve, calling softly, “Your Majesty?”
“I’m fine.”
He said quietly, using “I” to refer to himself. Meng Suxin lowered her head and stepped back.
The clouds at the horizon dispersed, moonlight pristine, like a layer of frost, coldly covering this blood-soaked palace gate.
## Finale
In the vast, empty great hall, the windows were thrown wide open. The night curtain, like the giant black wings of a great peng bird, slowly descended from the west. Before the hall stood a clear pond, its water reflecting the palace lamps, stretching into a brilliant rainbow, making the depths of the hall appear even dimmer, almost obscuring people’s faces. The Emperor sat alone, burying himself in reviewing memorials. The hall was filled with the scent of lily fragrance, so faint that a breeze would disperse it. Usually, at this time, golden-cup incense would be burning, but the Emperor had said a few days ago that golden-cup incense was difficult to make and time-consuming, so he ordered the Ministry of Internal Affairs to cease this offering. Great Yan had been experiencing frequent warfare lately; the three provincial kings of Huaisong had rebelled. Though the conflict had been quelled, it had indeed depleted the nation’s strength. The court treasury was strained, and even the Emperor had become more frugal in his meals.
A palace maid entered to serve tea. Seeing the Emperor finally straighten his back and rub his neck, Chang Xi hurriedly said in a low voice, “It’s late, Your Majesty should rest. The Empress’s maid Gan’er said the Empress caught a chill last night. She woke up feeling unwell this morning and has barely eaten all day. Would Your Majesty like to go see her?”
The Emperor was silent for a moment, then said, “I still have some memorials to process. Have the Imperial Physician take good care of the Empress. Tell the Empress to rest well, and I’ll visit her when I’m free.”
“Yes,” Chang Xi acknowledged, and then there was silence. The hall was quiet for a long time as if deserted, with only the sound of the cold wind blowing through the fire-red maple leaves outside, making a rustling noise. The Emperor continued to bury himself in documents, showing no intention of retiring to sleep. Chang Xi, who had served the previous dynasty, thought from this angle that the Emperor greatly resembled the previous Emperor, hidden behind layers of lamplight, his features indistinct.
The hall door opened slightly, and the little eunuch Fu Zi entered, crouching, to whisper something in Chang Xi’s ear. Chang Xi waved to dismiss him, then stepped forward to say quietly, “Your Majesty, the Empress has sent Imperial Physician He to take your pulse.”
The Emperor didn’t even raise his head, as if he hadn’t heard at all. Chang Xi boldly said again, “Your Majesty, the wound on your neck needs medication. If not treated, it may leave a scar.”
Moonlight filtered through the gauze-covered window lattice, bringing a chill. The tea grew cold, and the palace maid came forward to replace it. Chang Xi left Yangxin Hall. Imperial Physician He was still waiting in the corridor. This old physician had served the previous Emperor and was quite stubborn. Even Chang Xi, the head eunuch of Yangxin Hall, dared not offend him. He was dismissed when it was already the third watch, the sky dark as thick ink. The Emperor finally rose, saying he would go to the Empress’s palace. Chang Xi wanted to say it was too late, that the Empress might be asleep but then thought that even if awakened, the Empress would be glad to see the Emperor, so he remained silent.
The palanquin passed through narrow lanes, the palace lamps swaying, casting dancing shadows. The tree shadows on both sides seemed somewhat ferocious in the dim light. Night roosting ravens were startled and flew far away with flapping wings. The night was deep, and everywhere grew increasingly quiet. Halfway along the route, the Emperor suddenly called for a stop. Guards, eunuchs, and palace maids stood in formation but heard no further instructions from within the palanquin. Chang Xi looked up and saw, just across a palace wall to the northwest, a vast complex of palace buildings, with pavilions arranged in a staggered fashion, magnificent. But there was not a single light, quiet like a giant mausoleum, without a trace of human presence.
That was Cuixin Hall, called Chulan Hall in the previous dynasty, the residence of the previous Emperor’s favored consort, Consort Chu. In this dynasty, only Noble Consort Rong had lived there. Both Consort Chu and Noble Consort Rong had been the Emperor’s favored consorts, but unfortunately, neither had a good ending. Newly appointed consorts felt the place was unlucky and no one was willing to live there. Neither the Emperor nor the Empress had mentioned how to dispose of it, so the palace servants had temporarily sealed it. Who would have thought that in just two months, it would already be so abandoned?
“Your Majesty, shall we still go to the Empress’s palace?”
Chang Xi asked. After a while, the Emperor said quietly, “No, let’s go back.”
The moonlight emerged from behind the clouds, faintly white. From the distant Yingge Pavilion came a strain of ethereal song, like a wisp of smoke, gently echoing over the lake’s surface.