The person beside him coughed once, thinking that this poem was hardly appropriate for the current situation.

You Jun looked up at the various fragments of objects rolling down from above and suddenly said, “Bring incense.”

Someone immediately handed him incense. You Jun lit it and inserted it into the desk, saying to the person behind him, “Since they died for you, come pay your respects. Otherwise, if they become lonely ghosts, they might settle the score with you.”

The person behind him didn’t move and coughed once.

You Jun said, “After all, you are…”

The person behind him coughed again.

You Jun said nothing more. He gazed at the three incense sticks for a long while, listening to the rumbling sounds behind him gradually weaken. Looking at the wisps of smoke rising straight toward heaven, he said, “Then remember this—this debt is on my head. I arranged your life and ending. I owe you in this lifetime, and in the next life…”

Suddenly, a faint sigh came from the darkness.

Hearing this sigh, You Jun’s hair stood on end. Without a word, he stamped his foot heavily.

A hole appeared in the ground a foot in front of him.

Below this tunnel, there was another tunnel!

His reaction was extremely quick. If he had just jumped down the tunnel at this moment, everything would have been fine.

But after the tunnel opening appeared, he still had to reach back to grab the person behind him.

This slight delay made all the difference.

Bang! A crisp sound rang out. You Jun’s backward glance was suddenly torn apart by countless streaks of splashing light. His vision filled with crystalline brilliance, falling like rain.

The glass barrier had shattered.

Thousands of crystal fragments flew wildly and eerily through the narrow space. The massive glass barrier had disappeared, and a figure rolled through the doorway with the scattered crystals and jade, bringing cold light that pierced toward You Jun’s brow before the person even arrived.

You Jun was still gripping someone, falling straight backward. Behind him was the tunnel opening—as long as he could fall down, even if he was injured in the fall, it would be a minor matter.

He fell backward.

The back of his head could already feel the emptiness and wind behind him, representing the path to survival.

However, at this critical moment, he suddenly had a strange feeling.

As if that emptiness had suddenly been filled.

Someone was there.

Someone was at the tunnel opening that had been empty just moments before.

But he was already in mid-air, in a falling position, with no way to turn around.

Puchi!

The sound of a sharp weapon piercing flesh was remarkably clear even in this space filled with flying and whistling debris.

In that instant, You Jun only managed to push the person he had dragged down with him outward.

That person was now on top of him. If they continued to fall, they would both be skewered on the blade.

That person was also very alert, even faster than You Jun. Using You Jun’s body as leverage, he pushed off and leaped up.

Because of his push and You Jun’s shove, You Jun was pressed further down. The dagger that had originally only penetrated halfway into his back, having stopped for some reason, now with a chi sound, pierced through You Jun’s chest.

The bright blade tip emerged from his chest, showing half its length.

Below You Jun, someone chuckled coldly.

The voice was very familiar.

Then a pale, well-defined hand emerged from beneath the tunnel, supporting You Jun’s body that was about to fall into the tunnel, and dragged him out.

The collapse stopped, the wind died down, and with a click, someone lit the oil lamp that had been extinguished earlier.

The room filled with light.

The floor was covered with glass fragments, reflecting strangely in the small secret chamber.

The people who appeared in this eerie room all had multicolored faces, like ghosts.

Standing on the floor covered with glass was the one who had broken through the window earlier, creating such a grand display, but actually only to force You Jun to jump into the tunnel himself—Murong Yi.

Gripping You Jun’s collar and standing beside the tunnel was You Weinan. His fan was now tucked in his collar, his face covered with splattered blood, no longer looking refined and elegant.

Behind You Weinan, with his hands tucked in his sleeves, smiling as he watched, was Tie Ci.

She was looking at a handsome man and woman standing in the corner near the tunnel opening—old acquaintances she hadn’t seen in a long time.

Chi Qingbo and A’li Teng.

Both looked somewhat pale, as if frightened, but Tie Ci knew it was merely because they hadn’t fully recovered from their injuries.

Chi Qingbo kept coughing lightly, only looking at the glass fragments on the floor, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

A’li Teng only looked at him.

You Weinan’s eyes wandered around the room, and he suddenly smiled with amusement, lowering his head to speak to the barely breathing You Jun: “Father dear, we agreed that I’m not the one killing you—it’s your dear son. Every grievance has its source, every debt its debtor. Don’t become a lonely ghost and settle this score with me.”

He returned all the words You Jun had said in front of the three incense sticks.

He looked down at his own blade.

When he thrust the dagger, he only wanted to vent his hatred. Who knew that the dear son You Jun desperately protected would push back with that one motion, directly taking You Jun’s life.

You Jun closed his eyes and said nothing, as if already dead.

“Earlier we watched a play of patricide at You Weixing’s place. Didn’t expect the second act to be arranged so quickly,” You Weinan said. “Father, tell me, is this hereditary in our You family, or what?”

“You push me out as a scapegoat, yet everywhere you keep that one tied to your belt, dying without any resentment even when harmed by him…” You Weinan raised an eyebrow. “We’re both sons—why such a difference?”

“Is it just because he’s the legitimate son and I’m a concubine’s child?”

“Then you shouldn’t have fooled around outside, shouldn’t have had children with concubines!”

“What right did you have to birth me without asking my opinion, then bring me back as a substitute, making me bear the injuries meant for your son, shoulder the crimes meant for your son, even take the beatings when he made mistakes?”

“You were a concubine’s son yourself, yet you make things difficult for your own concubine’s son? Are you sick?”

You Jun coughed once and finally opened his eyes.

“Quite a bit of resentment…”

You Weinan snorted.

“Speak if you want to. I’ll give you a chance to air your grievances. But don’t expect me to repent.” You Jun said flatly, “Oh, actually I do have some regret. When you were born, I should have ignored your mother’s tearful pleas and thrown you in the toilet.”

“Or when you had a high fever at age two and wouldn’t recover, I shouldn’t have sent a famous doctor.”

You Weinan laughed harshly. “So I should thank you?”

“Not necessary.” You Jun said calmly, “You shouldn’t have existed in the first place. I let you exist, and I can’t make peace with that. I indeed treated you poorly, you can’t make peace with that and betrayed me—I accept it.”

“Understood. Only acknowledging reason, not father-son bonds.” You Weinan nodded. “Even though all these years I served as your son’s substitute, working tirelessly for you, in the end I was just a dog you raised out of charity. The only one in your heart is this legitimate son who can use your corpse as a stepping stone.”

You Jun didn’t answer.

Yes, the fault lay in legitimacy versus illegitimacy.

He had suffered enough as a concubine’s son, suffered enough from the sorrow of having to make way for the legitimate heir, so he vowed to have only one son.

Yet in the end, through a moment’s carelessness, he had another son. His intention to drown him on the spot was real, his desire to let him fend for himself was real.

The struggle between legitimate and illegitimate heirs was the bane of great families, causing far-reaching harm. The best solution was to have no concubine’s sons.

Yet his heart had softened after all.

This was one layer of error.

Later, when the legitimate son was sickly in childhood and repeatedly suffered attempts on his life, to protect this child, and seeing that the concubine’s son bore some resemblance to the legitimate heir, he simply had the legitimate son live in seclusion, keeping him from public view so people wouldn’t remember his appearance clearly, while bringing the concubine’s son to his side as a substitute.

This was another layer of error.

With the concubine’s son raised by his side, fearing he might develop inappropriate ambitions living in luxury and wealth, he was severe and harsh, constantly reminding him, thinking this would make him fearful and not dare reach for things he shouldn’t have.

Perhaps it worked—the concubine’s son was charming and kind-natured, without ambition.

But he forgot that suspicion, wariness, and coldness were among the heaviest injuries one could inflict on another.

Yet another error.

So he deserved to bear this bitter fruit.

The bitter fruit had been consumed; what it tasted like need not be shared with others.

If there was one thing the You family members inherited, setting aside other traits, it was the stubbornness buried in their bones.

Over there, Tie Ci nodded at the couple, her tone as casual as greeting old friends: “Have your injuries from last time healed?”

Chi Qingbo’s face was pale, but his demeanor remained unchanged as he smiled: “Thanks to your grace, not yet.”

“It was A’li Teng who saved you, wasn’t it?” Tie Ci’s gaze turned to A’li Teng.

That beautiful, slender woman, with the bearing of a mermaid sprite, moved through water like a true mermaid, stirring up jade-like waves.

Remembering that she had actually rescued her from the water, Tie Ci found it rather amusing.

A’li Teng was not as composed as her husband, lowering her eyes slightly, not daring to meet Tie Ci’s gaze.

Tie Ci’s eyes fell on A’li Teng’s belly. Her previously prominently rounded abdomen had now flattened, but timing-wise, if she had given birth, something seemed off.

Noticing Tie Ci’s gaze, A’li Teng lowered her head and touched her own abdomen, a shadow of sadness flickering in her eyes.

Chi Qingbo said calmly, “Thanks to Your Highness’s grace, A’li Teng lost the child while saving me.”

Tie Ci sighed and said, “Not worth it.”

Chi Qingbo showed no anger on his face.

“I’m very curious,” Chi Qingbo said. “When did Your Highness see through our identities?”

Tie Ci stared at him.

This man who could kill his own father without changing expression, and now wouldn’t even glance at his father, only concerned with sparring with her—such resolve was no wonder he had dared to personally come after her back then.

“I’m ashamed to say that regarding your identities, we were always wavering between peaks and valleys of suspicion. We suspected you from our first meeting—after all, your appearance was too coincidental. But your acting, especially your acting, was really very good. I once doubted my own guesses. So I kept you close, wanting to observe more carefully, yet nearly capsized in the gutter.” Tie Ci smiled. “However, thanks to you both, we turned misfortune into fortune and had other encounters. We were able to walk all the way to now. I suppose this was a good deed rewarded by heaven’s protection.”

“Your Highness means that it wasn’t until we encountered the insect swarm while searching for medicine in the deep mountains that you confirmed our identities?”

Tie Ci took a pouch from her waist and pulled out a bone carving—the very one the assassin had thrown before dying when she was attacked during the hunt in the imperial garden, which had been picked up by her Grand Commander.

She shook the bone carving, and there was a sound inside, louder than before.

“When I left the capital, this bone carving made noise, but not as loud as now. Later, I shook it once midway and found the sound had gotten a bit louder, though still not as loud as now. What do you think is the reason?”

Chi Qingbo smiled without speaking.

“Later, when I entered the village of the Ba tribe, I learned what this thing really was.”

“This is a type of parasitic insect raised by people in Yannan who are skilled at controlling insects—a king among insects, one that emerges victorious from battles among a thousand insects. Then drugs are used to make it enter dormancy. During dormancy, it secretes a liquid that gradually encases itself until it becomes something like bone. This thing is processed with medicine, then randomly carved on, becoming a small trinket like a bone carving. When needed, the insect inside the bone carving is awakened. It will wake up and slowly gnaw at the substance encasing it to sustain itself, so the interior of the bone carving becomes increasingly hollow, and the sound grows louder and louder.”

“It possesses an aura that only poisonous insects can sense. Wherever it passes, venomous creatures retreat. So when I carried it while traveling through the deep mountains, there were no insects around me.”

“But when it is summoned, the sound it makes is inaudible to humans, yet all the poisonous creatures in the mountains will answer the call.”

“The assassin in the imperial garden was sent by Yannan. Before dying, unwilling to accept defeat, he threw out this bone carving, leaving behind this bomb. Or perhaps he was instructed to deliberately leave this thing. It looks very much like an important clue or token. Since I was about to go to Yannan, I would naturally carry it with me.”

“Your Highness’s words are somewhat strange,” Chi Qingbo said. “Since this bone carving contains a parasite king, and its vibrating call summons swarms of insects, and this was our arrangement, then we had long been by Your Highness’s side. We could have summoned it at any time. Why risk waiting so long?”

“That’s because earlier on the boat, there weren’t many insects or opportunities. And also because of this thing.” Tie Ci pulled out another item and shook it.