Luowei’s heart gave a sudden lurch, and a wave of cold spread across her back.

She suddenly understood the look in Ye Tingyan’s eyes a moment ago — even without words, the two of them knew: after this, no matter what they did, they could not save Yu Suiyun’s life.

Though this was likely the revenge Yu Suiyun had been suppressing for nine long months, Su Shiyu was still alive — so why had she been capable of such a devastating act?

Luowei’s mind turned back to what Ye Tingyan had just said: “Yesterday, shortly after Shiyu was sent to the Zhuque Bureau, someone — it is not known who — quietly passed this news to the Noble Consort.”

In an instant, the crux of it became clear. She couldn’t help clenching her fist, and said through gritted teeth, full of fury, “Chang Zhao!”

Within the inner palace, only Chang Zhao knew the bond between Su Shiyu and Yu Suiyun. He need only deceive Yu Suiyun when passing the message — tell her that Su Shiyu was already dead — and she, with nothing left to live for, would certainly bring everything down in ruin with her.

In doing so, she killed Song Lan’s eldest son, which would not only cost her her own life but throw the inner palace into utter chaos.

Her life was Chang Zhao’s revenge against Su Shiyu — and against them.

Moreover, with Song Lan in a fit of rage, there was no telling what he might do — but no matter what, it was Chang Zhao, watching from the sidelines, who stood to gain.

Luowei’s face was deathly pale. For a long moment she could not speak. Ye Tingyan raised his arm and drew her into his embrace, then sighed. “Today, while Chang Zhao and I were together, he told me… the six months are barely half over. He will not reveal our affairs to Song Lan, but because of what Su Shiyu did, he is deeply displeased, and truly cannot guarantee that he will be able to keep his promise.”

Luowei steadied herself with considerable effort. “He is forcing us to leave the capital?”

Ye Tingyan said in a grave voice, “Though he bears no true loyalty to Song Lan either, Shiyu’s provocation has angered him. Staying in the city any longer is far too dangerous. The vanguard of the Jiangnan troops has already reached the outskirts of the capital. Chuyin, Xuechu, Cuozhi, and Lingcheng — they will leave the city today.”

“Suiyun and my elder brother are now both in the hands of Song Lan and Chang Zhao. With Song Lan consumed by grief over losing his son, once he comes back to himself, he will certainly use these two people to force me to show myself.” Luowei lowered her head, dazed and bereft as she turned it over in her mind. “We — we…”

The words wouldn’t come. Even with her thoughts in complete turmoil, she forced herself to be calm, swiftly running through the situation before her — and found that she had virtually no other way to break free of it.

What Su Shiyu had done was itself a tremendous gamble. Had he won, he would have rid them of Chang Zhao — that muddled and unresolved thorn in their side. Having lost, there was nowhere left to go: he had gone in with the resolve to burn his boats behind him, without leaving himself even the smallest margin.

Yu Suiyun had been no different.

She had never truly been the naive, pampered, and willful girl she appeared on the surface. She could not have been entirely unaware of her family’s destruction — the reason she had suppressed it and not acted was because she had discovered just how much Song Lan cared about this child.

And so she had endured, preserving herself with great care, and gave Song Lan a healthy eldest son. She had even maneuvered things so that he confirmed the child’s bloodline without a shadow of doubt.

At the very pinnacle of his joy at becoming a father for the first time, she killed the child he had placed all his hopes in — with her own hands.

This was the most devastating revenge she could visit upon him.

*

By the time Song Lan stumbled his way into Pifang Pavilion, the smell of blood inside had nearly faded entirely.

The palace attendants had even scrubbed the gold-tiled floor spotless. He could still detect that faint, cruel trace of it in the air, yet not a single bloodstain remained.

Yu Suiyun had been stripped of her Noble Consort’s ceremonial robes. She knelt in plain white garments in the center of the hall, and before her lay the child she had strangled with her own hands.

He had seen the child during yesterday’s paternity verification — it had been a prince.

From childhood, he had known little in the way of familial warmth. His father was rarely seen, his mother had washed her hands of him, and whatever care he had received from his elder brothers and sisters had been painstakingly begged and coaxed from them. In all of heaven and earth, this may have been the only being whose very blood and bone had been tied to his from the moment of birth.

The congratulations of the assembled court still echoed in his ears. Song Lan walked up to Yu Suiyun, and his knees buckled beneath him. He sank to the floor, reached out a trembling hand toward the small lifeless body — and before he could even touch it, he heard Yu Suiyun unable to suppress her laughter.

She took in the sight of Song Lan’s bloodshot eyes and laughed until she swayed back and forth.

From the day she entered the palace, she had always worn the look of a naive young girl. Song Lan had seen far too many daughters of noble families like that, and could see through them at a single glance. He had been content to indulge her — even after she was placed under house arrest and did not make a scene, he had never taken her seriously.

But now, looking into her eyes, Song Lan suddenly shuddered.

Because he saw that her gaze held no fear whatsoever — only a sneering contempt that came with having exacted a long-awaited vengeance.

She had gone into labor from the shock, had endured the ordeal for half a day, and after delivering the child had watched with open eyes as he summoned the imperial physician to verify the child’s parentage — she had not closed her eyes for a full day, and was pale and weak to the utmost extreme.

And yet she had somehow managed to avoid the guards and palace attendants, and right under the Empress Dowager’s nose, had laboriously, with her bare hands, strangled her own flesh and blood.

If her hatred had not reached its very limit, how could she have found such strength?

Song Lan seized her shoulder with one hand, nearly crushing it — the words rose to his lips and he swallowed them back down. He suppressed every violent impulse within him and called out to her with a semblance of tenderness, “Suiyun…”

Yu Suiyun raised her eyes and saw Song Lan’s unguarded, tear-filled gaze. She smiled and bit her lip, and matched his pretense, “Your Majesty, you are here.”

Song Lan stroked that familiar face over and over, his hand sliding downward, closing around her pulsing throat.

He wanted nothing more than to cut the woman before him into a thousand pieces, yet his face wore the expression of one whose heart was nearly broken. “…I have cherished you for three years. Even when the Empress was here, I never divided my favor with her. I longed so deeply for our child — why did you do this to him? Suiyun, did you never feel even the slightest bit of true feeling for me?”

He blinked, and the tears fell with practiced ease, landing on the back of Yu Suiyun’s hand, faintly warm. “You still think of him in your heart, don’t you? If you cared for him so much, why did you agree to marry me all those years ago? Your father had connections that reached everywhere — there was no need to grieve yourself like this.”

Yu Suiyun was struggling somewhat to breathe, but she still reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, and said word by word, “It has come to this — Your Majesty, why must you… still perform for me…”

Song Lan released his grip and seized her chin, forcing her face toward the infant’s corpse on the ground. “He was your child too! Your child! Isn’t a mother the one who loves her child most in all the world? How could you bring yourself to do this to him!”

“Knowing that he carried your blood, I was sick with revulsion!” Yu Suiyun clutched his hand and turned her gaze away. “Rather than let him grow up to become a monster like you, to meet a wretched end, I would rather he draw his last breath now.”

She struggled to turn her face toward him. “Look well — look at him closely. Burn it into your memory. This is your child, and it is you who killed him. You will destroy everyone close to you. This is your retribution!”

Song Lan seemed almost frightened, and scrambled backward several paces, muttering under his breath, “I treated you so well… I…”

“Well?” Yu Suiyun saw that he was still playing pretend, and couldn’t help pressing a hand to her own throat as she laughed. “Is that the ‘well’ of killing my father and my brothers and wiping out my entire clan? Or the ‘well’ of imprisoning me in the palace and humiliating and mocking me as you pleased? I tell you — even if you had not touched Su Shiyu, I had already made up my mind long ago!”

“Did you think I was willing to endure and bear your child? A child dead in the womb would not have been enough — I needed you to see him, to hear him cry, to have imagined what he would look like grown — and then to discover that your hands were empty, and nothing remained but the blood of those you destroyed! It is you who killed him! It is you who killed him!”

She reached back and pulled a hairpin from her head, and lunged at Song Lan. He was caught completely off guard, and she nearly drove the pin into his eye.

The palace attendants had stripped Yu Suiyun of her formal attire before departing, leaving behind no weapon of any kind. The sandalwood hairpin at her head could not even scratch paper, but eyes are so fragile — how could they withstand such an assault?

Song Lan erupted in humiliated fury, and at last tore off the mask of innocent virtue he had always worn. With a sharp ring of steel, he drew the sword at his hip. But Yu Suiyun did not hesitate for even an instant — the moment the blade cleared its scabbard, she walked straight into it, letting the sword drive clean through her chest.

She had deliberately provoked him. She had goaded him into drawing his sword!

Song Lan watched in horror as the blood-soaked blade emerged from Yu Suiyun’s back. He was well accustomed to blood, yet in this moment he felt a revulsion he could not name. He tried to push her away, but Yu Suiyun locked her arms around his neck and pulled herself close to his ear, as if to offer a kiss.

“There is one thing… Your Majesty… got wrong… Who ever said… that the one who loves her child most in all the world… is the mother?”

Only then did Song Lan notice that she was barefoot in plain white robes, yet her face was heavily made up — the cloying sweetness of rouge and powder drifted past his nose, mingled with the raw smell of blood.

What a beautifully painted skull.

Yu Suiyun was still speaking in broken, halting words, “At the time… in the hall… there were only the Empress Dowager and I… She was not… confused at all then… Can you guess… why she just… smiled and watched… as I strangled your child… without even a word to stop me?”

Song Lan snapped back to himself with a start. “What did you say?”

Yu Suiyun smiled silently. “You suspect everyone… so there is… never anyone at your side… who truly cares for you… not even your own mother…”

She was in the grip of unbearable pain, her expression contorting, the fingers clutching his robe trembling without stop. “Just keep being… a solitary sovereign… with no one even to name you… After your death too… a lone and wandering ghost — I’ll be waiting for you, I’ll be waiting for you…”

“What do you mean — what about the Empress Dowager—”

Her breath grew faint, her fingers releasing one by one. Song Lan gripped her shoulders and screamed, but she gave no response. “Tell me, tell me — what did the Empress Dowager do? If you tell me, I will grant Su Shiyu a merciful death…”

Perhaps it was the news that Su Shiyu had not yet died that made Yu Suiyun’s eyes widen slightly. Her lips parted — and in the end, she said nothing at all. With the last of her strength, she pulled the corners of her mouth upward into a faint smile.

“Tell me!”

Song Lan pulled out the sword from Yu Suiyun’s chest, only to find that she had drawn her last breath entirely.

“…You — all of you — why do you all treat me this way?”

Liu Xi, standing guard at the entrance to the hall, heard the sound of a weapon clattering to the floor inside. Then the young Emperor kicked open the hall doors and walked out, like a wandering soul.

He was wearing a black robe embroidered with concealed dragon patterns in flowing gold. The front of his robe was soaked through with blood, yet the color could not be made out — instead, the dragon patterns in the dark embroidery seemed, nourished by the blood, to have come alive.

Perhaps from the struggle just now, Song Lan’s hair was slightly disheveled, and his left cheek, where Yu Suiyun had pressed close, was smeared with blood. Young as his face still appeared, in this moment he looked like a demon from the realm of the dead.

The palace servants in the distance all knelt as one, not even daring to raise their heads. Liu Xi summoned his courage and stepped forward to support Song Lan’s arm. “Your Majesty, please take care of yourself!”

Song Lan walked a few steps with his support before coming back to himself. “Liu Weng…”

Liu Xi responded at once. “Your Majesty.”

Song Lan turned his head to look at him, as if thinking something over, his gaze flickering. “I recall — you used to serve my imperial elder brother and my sister.”

Over the years, Song Lan had harbored a deep wariness of the eunuch problem and had kept the inner attendants and chamberlains under very strict control. Those who waited on him in person were not Liu Xi alone, but Liu Xi had served Song Lan the longest, and at such a moment, only he had the courage to attend him.

Though Liu Xi did not know the nature of the discord between the Emperor and the Empress, he had a general sense of it in his heart. Hearing this question, he had no choice but to sidestep the heart of the matter. “Yes — the Noble One saw that Your Majesty had no one to attend him at the time and sent this servant to serve at his side… Your Majesty, mind the stone step.”

“Ah. That would be ten years now, counting from then.”

Song Lan murmured to himself. Liu Xi did not know where he was headed, and dared not speak, and could only follow close behind, step by step.

Imperial Guards were kneeling along the path, heads bowed deeply. Song Lan steadied himself and, as he passed them, said with sudden calm, “Take him.”

The one his finger indicated was Liu Xi. Before Liu Xi could even turn around, the Imperial Guards who had scrambled to their feet seized his arms. He stood there in a daze for a moment, then called out in disbelief, “Your Majesty!”

Song Lan turned and continued walking along the uneven stone path through the garden, taking no notice of his cry. “Kill him.”